Communication 98

the angle

under the safest of skies,
forever seems far too long
I’ll carry on strong,
take it on the chin
I’m bruised, beaten
by those of whom I’m hunting,
my angle is precise,
each cast
within
an inch
of their life

this pursuit has kept me
confined, a soft, silent
antidote, to protect
my fragile mind,
I can’t promise much,
to those
of whom
I seek

“I’ll guard your alter
and the water in which
you sleep”

I’ll continue to pine
and wait for a sign,
from those
who lurk beneath
my angle is precise,
each cast
within
an inch
of my life

far away
from the synthetic world
no truer words been spoken,
time will eventually heal
those of us who have broken,
forever seems far too long,
my angle is precise,
each cast
will set us free
from the constraints
within our life

 

Communication 97

Standen

the papers of a former general
sit static on the desk, once his workplace,
scratched in ink, wounded words
now turned narrative, fade
the oil lamp flickers, absent of breeze
a scent, musk mixed with lemon grass,
conjures as I pass his door,
the ticking of clocks, the creaking floor
no longer are we alone
no longer are we the same as you,

on these walls a portrait moans,
we are the paintings brushstrokes
each stitch
embroidered,
entwined
embeds my family blood line
my father the banker,
my mother the writer,
my sister the actress,
each a victim of a modernist theft
aristocracy’s final breath
here stands the house
where happiness left,

we are not always well
we are not always colorful
we are not always pretty
we are not always alone

Communication 96

no trace

from the outside
no one’s home
white noise on a TV screen
no connection on the phone
there’s static on the radio
a disabled dialing tone
it’s said true silence
haunts a house
when a murders taken place
acute forensic analysis
no one left without a trace

Communication 95

life

life
it chases and chokes
creeps on tiptoes,
sailing unoccupied – there she blows!
conspiring
like the catalyst she is,
serrated,
a double edged sword
the victory salute,
a clenched fist
the blade
that cut my wrist
life
she’s the chain to my anchor
with the hate I feel,
it’s impossible
to thank her,
where’s the sweet refrain?
life
she splits the grain,
kills the graze,
all pros & cons
outweighed,
evil actions won’t
go unnoticed
all debts will be paid,
life
I’ll hide,
wait for her passing,
build barricades,
evacuate her blitz
her tantalizing promise
is so hard to resist
beneath the rubble,
I’ll excavate my wits
it just ain’t
worth the trouble
life
she’s a bitch

Communication 94

January

January sits in free promise,
pulling her hair like
a delicate chord,
she’ll ring out to me
when I see new risings
or close the day through locking doors,
gently tiptoeing around
my foreground, she fills
the air with youthful sound,
with her vacant gaze
she cuts my time in two,
guiding me effortlessly into
the shade something new,
January is it true you rub
the eyes of tired times,
hold the breeze that charms
the seedlings decline,
cut the hearts
from the blossom skirting past
“if only we could capture their growing
if only we could tell them apart”
help me find the thorough path
through the overcast,
open the light
to something different,
to a purer heart,
to purer sight,
January help me hoist the sail
to reach beyond southerly winds,
our timing must be perfect,
for when the sun hits
the spiders spindle, flickering,
we’ll see his web of virtue,
to capture us within,
hanging from a simple thread,
we’ll picture all reflection
in a single rain drop falling,
hitting the ground,
shattering the sound
for the fire flies light awakening,
they’ll dance,
burning the nights ember,
making way for December
giving us the focus to gaze over
natures dormant state of slumber,
January opens, I free myself,
pulling duration's,
ringing delicate chords,
she provides new meanings
for me to gravitate towards.

Communication 93

pride - envy - hate - lust

Proof that I cannot contain myself     
Ready to be the best I can possibly be                                      
Inwardly indulging my sense of me  
Deceased are the times of any self-doubt                                    
Evolving – I’m growing inside and out.                                    

Everything I have still isn’t good enough
Never before have I needed your needs more
Virtue poised, egos woken from its dream 
You’re the reason envy’s left me seeing green

Here today where you live
Alienating me from me,
To much hate directed to
Each and every one of you

Longing for something almost void of love
Undeniably we all crave for lust
Sickly and suited for all to practice
Trusting, entwined with spite and malice

Communication 92

imperfectly travelled

she’s come a long way
gone are the days of isolation
girl in a forest
throwing caution to the wind,
with battle lines drawn
her hands and feet worn,
the wilderness in her heart
pacified by her first born,
over oceans
navigating the non-familiar,
I often think of her,
from the islands of Galapagos,
to the peaks of the highest summit,
how can we ever be strangers
with a tapestry of history
stitched so perfectly,
I’ll love you eternally,
I’ve come a long way,
my life – imperfectly travelled,
gone are the days of isolation,
boy in the forest,
throwing caution to the wind
with battle lines drawn,
his hands and feet worn
the wilderness in his heart
pacified by her first born

Communication 91

a city I’ve never known

I want to get lost in a city I’ve never known
walk down a street I’ve never seen,
a town square I’ve never been,
I want to feel alone for a while
entangled in a moment I can’t undo,
indulge in the life of a man I never knew,
feel the sun hit my face on a morning
I’ve never woken to,
neglect commitment
if only for a day or two

Communication 90

the afterglow – limitless



hitching a ride on the 3 o’clock wind

the cockerel sleeps, the wrens they sing

I plan to exit come 5 o’clock 

on the afterglow I’ve grown to love

I’ve wasted my time on the in-betweens 

I’m making my break, cutting clean,



with the west wind shivering

the moon ray dwindling 

I rejuvenate under tireless sky,

drawn naturally to a life unknown

I pass my time alone,

bracken breaks softly underfoot,

the bells in the steeple ring



I entwine and knot myself

between the all of everything,

there is no rush, no urgency, no law,

for the first time at this altitude 

the purpose of my meaning appears

limitless, there’s finally room 

in my heart for forgiveness

Communication 89

wild swimming

here I am as it gathers
holding nuance,
splitting supple motion,
I shall swim this river wide
as I collide
with the break
I’ll gulp my last choke,
I could inhale deliberately
no one would ever know,
chaining myself seamlessly,
meandering light currents,
a dull sense of reflex,
no patience to ponder,
a distinct desire to drown,
to breathe in water
I have no inkling
to relate to the life
inhabiting the banks
no thanks!
I’ll drift away from view,
buoyant for only seconds
with nothing
to hold on to,
this fear is nothing new,
finally letting go of you

Communication 88

who I am

inside your head
switchboards dialing
connecting, wiring
burning out, then
reproducing,
raw fossil fuel desires
stoking the fires,
your decisions
are required to
reconnect the wires 
how come I can’t recreate it? 
‘Happiness’, it’s so complicated,
this pill I take
there’s just no forgetting
this brain of mine
just needs resetting,
whilst those around me smiling
know nothing of the state I’m in,
there’s no denying that science
isn’t my saviour, this chemical
tested on monkeys
influences my behaviour,
I can’t stand the sickness,
the coma, the fight,
I’ve just got to get through tonight,
maybe then things will change
maybe my delusion is
something I need to see through
the illusion, that happiness
isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,
and in fact sadness
brings out the best in me,
and makes me ‘Who I Am’

Communication 87

born to be broken

there’s nothing on the outside for you,

there’s nothing left within

inside the shadow of ‘St Christopher’

you’ll pay for every sin

blessings, you’ve wasted

no hope of being restored

a cross, a broken crucifix 

no forgiveness from your lord

your faith has slipped, sipped

away with every swallow,

cheap booze and liquor,

nicotine,

your craving left you hollow,

a

cold

shadow,

a spectre

of the man you thought you were

reconcile now and forgive

don’t be afraid to break,

we are nothing without

our mistakes,

it’s impossible to feel alive

without acknowledging

the confusion inside,

we design our future unknowingly

by building on the past,

each foundation laid

is a foundation built to last,

a

warm

bright

spirit

the man you always were

navigating freely

through a life that is merely

a series of

extravagant events,

confessions and connections

a catastrophe,  

at best,

pick a path

see it through

there’s still time

to define

what you thought
you always knew

Communication 86

bludgeoned

alienation

dehumanization

a vaccine of prolonged

slow release bias,

stay close,

don’t overdose

on the bile,

they’re lying,

you’re a prisoner

of ‘psychic driving’

try hard to withstand

this frequency attack,

the subconscious

is prone to play-back,

don’t lose yourself,

stay close,

cling

to the ones you

love the most,

don’t overdose

on the bile,

they’re lying

your freedom is caged

and dying,

don’t abuse yourself

trying to make sense of it all

we are forever

‘bludgeoned’

by those who rule