Wheels

Two wheels

and the water;

breeze and sun

and calm.

Reset

Recalling the sensation

of a cool floor

under

the weight of your full body

should be refreshing –

but it is just

a reminder that

sometimes

the only place to reset

is flat on your back,

heavy and cold –

and alone

– save for the

boiling

of every thought

and each emotion

that presses you

down

to the ground.

Backwards in the Mirror

I could cut the words

into the centre of your

chest

in an effort

to make you understand,

but I know

you would simply complain

that they are

backwards

in the mirror,

if only to excuse your ignorance,

which I pretend is

accidental,

despite my better judgment,

but which I know,

all too well,

is very much by design.

By the River with Nothing in Mind

By the river,

on a bench,

in the

sunshine,

listening

to the wind and the water,

watching the boats

go by,

with nothing in mind

except everything,

but

allowing some peace

and joy,

nonetheless,

like a gift

owed always to oneself.

Quiet Room

This is a quiet room.

Outside,

the air whistles,

selfishly unconcerned

by the noise it makes,

and I resent it.

Still,

between its whirring

and the heartbeat I hear

in my ears,

at least there sounds

in this quiet room.

First Prize

I am the first prize,

lightheaded

from the heights

of this podium.

I will not be second,

nor third.

Only you will lose,

if I am not

the prize you choose.

I am first place,

first choice,

first prize.

Half Empty

You are a glass half empty:

not as kind

as you should be,

nor as considerate –

certainly not as grateful

as I deserve,

when I

keep my glass full

and,

with all I have left,

fill yours to overflowing.

Something

Maybe

there is something

in this:

taking a moment

to let it out;

no dripping from a cut

this time,

but just a drop

from the eye –

just one,

and then maybe another.

It is not better,

but it is something.

Over In No Time

If you take up more

space

in the world,

you will only come

to take up less

space

in mine,

and then this will be

over in no time.

Except I Don’t

Like a manipulation

or abuse which,

of course,

you have no idea

is happening,

except

I don’t hate you

at all,

and that’s a problem.

Good Luck

Saying ‘good luck’

is a waste and a lie:

futile in the first,

not meant in the second –

if I wished it,

nothing would happen,

and I don’t wish it at all,

so the outcome is

the same.

Tales of a One Man Show

What strange viewing

is this:

tales of only one person;

no questions asked,

and often only silence.

This is news

in an echo chamber,

a single song

on loop,

and the deprivation of senses,

altogether.

This is a one man show,

I can rarely enjoy

but am

otherwise

forced to watch.

Margins

Nothing happens

in the margins –

not the real stuff,

anyway;

just the things

that can’t be said,

or are not allowed

to exist.

The margins

are made for secrets

we wish

were shouted,

and fictions we wish

were true.

Nothing happens

in the margins –

not the good stuff,

anyway.

Like a Child

You are like a child

who has not yet learnt

the words

for gratitude.

Or perhaps you are worse:

a child who knows

exactly how to give thanks

and refuses nonetheless

out of stubbornness and

selfishness

and a determination

never to be grateful

at all.

Tick – Kick – Time

Every tick

is a kick in the teeth

that turns

round the empty circle

and leaves

nothing but

a waste of time.

I Am The Mountain

I am

the mountain;

taller than

and taller still.

The sun’s

first kiss is mine,

as I stand

in the light –

mighty.

I am the mountain;

only me.

You Are the Sun

Whisper to yourself

as you hold your own hand:

you are the sun –

bright,

warm,

essential.

Whisper gently to yourself:

you are the sun –

only you.

Pick Only Gold

She says pick

and

discard and

select scientifically,

and,

of course,

she is right –

not about science,

but about

discernment:

you should be

mining only for gold

that just is as precious

as you are,

and leaving the rocks

to be otherwise

washed away.

Talk to Yourself

Talk to yourself

the way you do others:

say ‘I can’

and ‘I am’ and

‘I do’

and ‘I will’ –

believe it when you can,

listen,

at least,

when you can’t,

but always talk to yourself

the way you do others:

like you are a gift,

and deserve a gift too –

with kindness.

Snap

Were I to break the rules

for much longer,

or more deeply,

then the snap of the

elastic band

which holds all this together

would be nothing

compared to the sound of

my cracking mind

or the breaking of my back.

Fool

Ungrateful fools

win no prizes;

they receive

only laughter

and loss.

Not My Job / How Little You Pay

This is not my job;

do not ask for it.

This is not my job,

which makes perfect sense,

for how little you pay.

It is a good job

that I do not ask for it.

This is not my job,

and how little you pay.

Less Foolish Than Breaking Your Back

Snapping a wishbone

for an idea

that may never come true,

is much less foolish

than breaking your back

for a reality

you wish was no longer so,

like you do.

And So, Infinity

Alone in that house,

now

and so forever,

with only

yourself

to blame for the

infinity.

Yours to Regret

This is not mine

to regret;

it is yours.

That I am not yours,

is not mine

to regret.

In Which Misery

Yours is a world

in which misery loves

your company

almost as much as

you love it in return.

Waiting For Me To Cut Off My Hands

Waiting

as you are,

for me to close the door,

and not realising,

of course,

that you locked it as I arrived,

is like expecting me

to knock,

when you have already

cut off my hands.

Offer Me a Warning / Before You Remember to Speak It

Offer me a warning

when I am forgotten,

though I will know

before

you remember to speak it;

when your body

outgrows me

and your voice goes quiet,

and your hands are as

cold as the feeling in my chest

that comes from

being left

outside,

as ever;

colder still from knowing

your eyes are elsewhere,

and so too

is your mouth,

before you remember

to speak it

out loud.

Out to Sea

The water is not

choosing,

only moving

through the path

of least resistance,

and trusting

it will

find its way

safely out to sea.

Wait, Ad Infinitum, For Joy

Wait stubbornly in the rain,

and flog yourself as ever;

shout at the reflection in the mirror.

Repeat ad infinitum,

for yours is a skill

in unhappiness.

One which you are determined

to perfect,

if only for the chance

to bemoan your misfortune,

and gift yourself

misery

in spite of the opportunity for joy

that you have left

otherwise ignored and

unappreciated.