Do you?

Tell me,

I want to know,

do you ever glow?

When you think of someone

do your lips move?

When you see them

do your insides warm,

does your heart grow?

Do you ever picture

you in a picture

together?

There’s no shame

to feel it,

nor blame

if things stay the same.

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are there reasons?

Every tree

is susceptible to rot.

Within us,

cruelty wanders all our hearts.

It runs in veins

like gold.

We try not to follow

but some get greedy.

It’s crackling energy is powerful.

 

We say things

that mean nothing to us

and everything to somebody else.

And vice versa;

life is all about timing

and most of the time it goes horribly wrong.

We get frustrated we’re out of tune

with the rest of the room.

 

I wonder if it’s possible

we could ever align,

I think about you, and you,

all the time.

My position has to be a sign,

has to mean something

or am I just grasping?

 

I write some words.

They mean some things

about all of you.

People like them

and hate them

but I feel them

through every fibre

in the moments I create.

As long as one other person

can relate, I’m okay.

If I’m alone I don’t know what to say.

Either way,

I get on with the day.

Three Words

We’ve all met them.

They permeate certain

parts of the air.

Some of us breathe them in,

some of us too open to speaking, engaging.

Then they talk to us.

Tangling inside,

worming away,

segmenting,

they make us listen.

We can’t shut them out.

 

One is a sepia photograph,

with tendrils to the past,

turning happiness a different colour.

Memories invoke such desire,

an agonising state

where one of your rooms has been locked

and inside; a fire.

Burning all this time,

but you have neither key or water.

He won’t let you put it out.

 

One is an ocean,

at such a hue

to make you think of nothing,

and everything.

Find meaning in all things

but also no consequence

in anything.

You can only take the well trodden path

of the lonely, sad and pensive.

This is a quiet place,

locked away too.

Nothing moves in a straight line.

He won’t let you speed up.

 

There’s another,

a darker being.

Animalistic.

Less careful,

more powerful.

I don’t believe I’ve met him.

Perhaps I’ve seen him,

his back turned

or felt his presence close by.

Maybe he’s searched and I’ve avoided his eye.

I hope he never catches me with full glare.

He doesn’t talk,

simply turns all the lights off,

replaces them with dimmer bulbs

that can flicker to life

when he wants them too.

He’s a destroyer,

the two his helpers.

 

It’s that time of year again,

an end and a beginning.

The time when you’re meant to make things happen.

But I will probably visit a park,

one with a view,

sit on the swing

and hopefully see something new.

simple as that

I don’t rhyme very much

cos’ it’s much too tough,

the stress on my brain is way too rough.

Sometimes though, the pain is worth it.

I was floating in the surf

hoping it wasn’t a shark

pit,

thinkin’ about the girl I like

wondering if she’d had enough of me.

There’s something about her,

she’s got this aura I can’t ignore

and I adore her.

Every morning,

before the day comes swarming,

and too many thoughts fill my head

for me to get out of bed,

I see her face,

and hear the words I should have said.

But it’s not a race

and I wish for more time;

to make her mine,

to change her mind.

Make this something that’ll last,

make me forget my past.

I guess it’s a gamble,

the die is cast

and I tend to ramble

cos’ she makes me nervous

every time I try to speak about us.

I can’t be weak,

can’t let my resolve leak,

she has to know how I feel

and for my soul,

she has the power to heal.

 

 

Mechanics (Body Parts)

When the tide turns,
I’ll let you know.
When my toes stop curling,
when my fingers aren’t clenching.

To be sensitive
can be emotionally expensive.
When I let go,
I’ll let you know.
When my vessels flow free,
when my muscles don’t contract.

It shouldn’t be so strange
to speak to someone.
When I find my range,
I’ll talk to you.
When my brain fires,
when my tongue unravels.

To move as one,
there needs to be fun.
When I find some,
I’ll take you there.
When my teeth straighten,
when my legs stop aching.

Warmth is not a temperature
it is an expression.
I feel it
when your eyes reach mine.
When my cheeks grow round,
when my heart pounds.

Is a dream just a desire
or a fear?
Is it nothing more?
You walk through my night
all the time.
Do you remember
the steps you took in my head?
Do you wake and get the sense
you didn’t spend all night in bed?

Complex doesn’t have to be hard,
simple isn’t always easy.
When I convince you
I won’t act like I won.
When my lips rise,
when my soul flies.

When you find someone,
you have to try.
Or be alone
the day you die.

The Lizard

Once, there was lizard. He was cold, a little dark, and slightly empty inside. Not evil, in fact he was kind of heart, but perhaps somewhat lost and lonely. He was lacking motivation, or at least he was lacking positive motivation. All his tasks he completed without a clear sense of why he was doing these things. He knew there was something missing. The world confused him and he did not know his place in it. How could he meet others that were so different to him? It was hard to comprehend. So many lizards exactly like him, and yet they were not. Nor he like them. They looked the same and they spoke the same but their minds were foreign.

A man in a suit whose sole defining feature was arrogance. I am not a violent person. I am kind, so why am I looking at you with dead eyes, hoping for your blood to be spilled? How do you see the world? How do you view those around you, if you acknowledge them at all? When the day arrives and you understand your grandeur is a mirage, my lips will move skyward.

One day, he met the sun. And it was light and it was warmth, it was everything the lizard had been looking for. The sun was joy, it filled the gaps within the lizard, filled the holes with a positivity the lizard had not felt before. He had more energy now. To the skies for all to hear he proclaimed that the benevolence of the sun could not be emphasized enough. It was brilliance and it was heat and it was illumination. The sun showed him that others could be just as good but different, and he was glad to have realized it.

He’d never seen a smile that looked so alive, and he’d only said something stupid. A smile you wished could linger longer, before you tried to raise it once more. It was nice to take time out from thinking of all the people in the world and discover only one. To wonder and learn about just one, instead of the infinite curiosity that had plagued him before. One proved to be fuller, more complicated and intriguing than many. He started to see complexity was not something he had known within himself. He was linear, they were made up of tendrils.

The sun could not always be there however. There were times when the lizard’s world would be dark again and he understood this. With the promise that the sun would return he could negotiate the quiet moments alone without losing vitality. But sometimes the absences of the sun stretched out for too long and the lizard couldn’t help but become slow, stagnant, and muddled.

Back to day-dreaming of Valhalla and red paintings on the wall. Back to examining profundity in the smallest of things. While it fascinated him it did not sustain him. Watching life taught him much, the most of which was that he wasn’t living it. So he slept as little as possible, believing quantity would catch up to quality eventually.

The lizard did not like it when the sun was distant. For him, the sun was life and the dark was not. If he spent too long in the dark and the cold, he was afraid he would fade beyond revival. He was convinced the strange things he thought about on his own were not the right things to contemplate so he chased the sun, for it was always shining somewhere. To bring it closer and move himself closer became a focus of his endeavours.

When they were near, when they touched, he was sure that moment would hold. Were his eyes saying what he wanted them to? He did not like speaking but was always told it was necessary, so now he spoke too much.

Every now and then the lizard would come across other pockets of light and warmth. They were not the sun and he was confused they held the same qualities as the sun but in smaller doses. They promised the same cures it seemed but they were not the sun and he always pushed on.

Again, he looked upon other interesting faces. Again, started musing of when their stories began but quickly lost his grip on attention when he asked, when they started telling him. He was thinking, you are human. You are wonderful. You are alien to me.

Sometimes he saw others who were totally devoid of light. They were struggling beyond what he had the capacity to imagine. He wanted to help them did not have anything to offer them. Moving within the confines of their pain seemed dangerous considering his own fragility.

Of course, each time the lizard found the sun, the sun was busy and the lizard knew this. Still, he hoped to prove a distraction, make the sun glow more brightly on him so he could grow to be something more than he was.

Locking the essence of himself away to remain accessible. Talking too much, always talking too much. Not smiling, not looking enough. There was a soul in him. There was a soul in her. How could they meet? What circumstances would bridge such a divide, when both were guarded by the head?

Eventually the sun had to intervene, telling the lizard “I cannot shine only on you, there are other things I must do. I cannot ignore my own heart’s warning.”

So the lizard was left floating in the dark wondering what he could possibly do. Was it the end of days? Was it not possible to be sunny all the time? Surely it was, if it was possible to be dark all the time?

He planned all the things they would do; the words he would say. Maybe he thought about the future too much and did not focus now? Could he have spent too little time in reality as he grew. Was his life permanently askew? He knew what he wanted but did not know how to get it. So he said he did not know, to those who asked.

Could it be that there was more than one sun in the world? He was convinced not but then he pondered those other lights. Perhaps they were suns that had not evolved yet. He was certain he did not feel comfortable with them, not like he had with the sun but if the sun was truly disconnected from him, what choice did he have but to source his survival elsewhere?

He had never bothered to search for the sun before so when he decided to he thought he’d found it the first time. He should have known you can’t be that lucky.

Acknowledging such a point was easier than accepting it but he would try.

Moving towards what society wanted felt like swimming against the flow. He did not want to be that man in the suit. He wanted to be organic and more and more it was becoming impossible to avoid being constructed and driven for someone else’s purpose.