Saturday, 30 June 2012


O body, leave me cold and dry
the light in the puddle
is not the moon

Else the cold warmth tried
of an old man’s face, askance
in the knowing

Thursday, 28 June 2012


I seize for the victories
and the tic tac spoils
of these blank line blues,
ranked inconsiderately.

Ready for a strong arm
with the gnashing of arteries,
or exiting to receive the weak one
in what was once called contemplation.

Ending what neither of us have not.

Saturday, 16 June 2012


You cannot walk
Your head hits your chest
You’re not asleep

No guilt of pill
No directive call
But there’s this light
That’s breaking through

The sky your head
Your head the sky
And you know you’re not asleep

Your flesh left aside
But it’s still out there
And you know you’re not awake

You feel the salt
That’s in the breeze
And the waves you hear
Curling through this light
As a mirrored cup drinking-up
All that light sets between

And you’re not asleep
And you’re not awake
And it culminates amid