it comes around

Christmas paper soggy

from the son lost a few days ago.

She couldn’t throw the present away now,

this time of year was wasteful enough already.

She noticed;

her hands wouldn’t stop shaking,

her stomach wouldn’t stop contracting.

Across the street a different house,

a different feeling.

Two lovers just announced

they’re getting married.

 

Rainbows lit up across the country

and it was like a loose brick in the wall

had finally slid back into place.

You could feel the energy

but then you hear these everyday conversations…

“You’re a dumb whore cunt, wish I’d never met you way back when.”

“Aboriginals, not half a brain between the lot of them.”

They’re breaking down the mortar

so the erosion doesn’t go away.

I don’t know how to stop it.

 

It’s important to learn about darkness.

Not so you can find right way,

just so you can survive.

You can light a little candle

in a circle around yourself,

you can pull others in but only for a short time.

They’ll breathe all the oxygen in

and eventually

one of you will be alone again.

 

(In the blinding light

of the realisation of my life

I saw you’d gotten a move on

and I hadn’t budged in so long.

It was alright, I was learning to be laid back.)

 

What is it about the colour purple?

It won’t tell me

if it’s happy or sad,

reminds me of the battle fought

inside my own head.

For years now it’s up and down,

I’ve always managed to keep it down.

 

(Walking in the dark with my dog,

on a deserted bike path,

I can feel ten feet tall.

I can feel wild and strong.

I see nothing for miles

except the lights in the distance

of the cars going

places they think are more meaningful than mine.)

 

In the moments of respite

where the only movement is a leaf

falling to the ground

you’ve got to wonder

if you stayed there forever

and let yourself fade away,

would it be peaceful,

would it be a better way to go

than fighting all the way down the line

until you’re too tired and old

to do it anymore?

 

 

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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.

Sombre

I see the sadness in people’s eyes

even when it’s not there yet.

I know how their story might end.

Chances are there’s a divorce or cancer in store for them,

and they won’t be able to fix it.

 

And I look around and realise

it doesn’t matter if you’re the kindest person

on earth or the worst.

Fate pays no heed to that.

 

And I don’t read the papers much

but I see the headlines on the net

and all I see are ages close to mine

and they’re never gonna rise

and it gets me down sometimes.

 

And all the animals that walk across the land

get snuffed out quicker than you can say ‘deserve’

and they never get a chance to say goodbye to anyone or anything.

We don’t know what they leave behind

when they disappear.

We don’t know their minds, we don’t know their families.

 

And this is all the inside of me.

The outside is the opposite and I give it to you

because I don’t want you to

feel what I feel.

It’s crushing, it’s very heavy.

So I want you to smile and enjoy life.

Don’t worry about too much

because there is nothing we can do to make this world right.