Poetry

Blinding the dark

It flicks its fingers at the edge of my vision

This shadow

Pulling its cloak quick over my face

To grey my view of everything I rise to meet.

 

I claw the cloak away, but threads always remain.

I can’t see them until I take a good look,

And by then, the shadow itself has returned to repeat the process.

 

It’s made a mistake this time.

This time I step forward to greet it,

And with me I bring the flares of the sun.

 

Poetry

Drained

Each time a part of me is taken,

I fall under the waves,

crashing against the shore just as they do.

I know this part will soon be replaced.

Replenished

after nourishment and rest.

 

Though the hours pass, the ache remains,

and I can’t shake the disembodied sensation it gives me.

But there is no logic to this.

These tiny red specs I will not miss

contain not me, only my code.

So why do I wilt over a few cut leaves?

Poetry

Blockade

The wall of brick and bone and sweat

stands before me, blocking my path

to the end, the finish line and the emptiness after,

for what is after

I’ve achieved all my dreams?

Will it be enough to come to that finality,

the conclusion upon which I linger most,

or will the fire inside

continue to burn until I pass the herd

to stand on my own,

hearing my own trumpets and roars,

my heat beating its celebration

not of my ego,

but simply that I can still go on,

still progress,

still do what I love

and not let boredom brick me up

inside my own head.

Poetry

Step up, young dreamer

Welcome, welcome,

to the dome of the mind,

cast out in spirals

and labyrinths

to lead spies astray.

 

Welcome, welcome,

to the circus of the subconscious,

where everything and nothing exists at once,

paraded in colours and banners

that will surprise and delight you

and then leave you in darkness

once you realise

there’s no such thing as being full here.

 

Poetry

Palmistry

If we all had our deepest, truest  attribute

etched onto our palms, what would yours be?

Kindness? Never judging, listening to the full story

and helping in whatever way you can?

Bravery? Never backing down, no matter what the odds,

swallowing your fear because there are more important things?

Or is it something simpler, yet not so simple at all?

A concept many take for granted, yet twice as many don’t have?

Self-acceptance. To know yourself, to be okay with it,

but also knowing that wanting to change is fine too,

if you don’t like who you are.

Because accepting that

is to recognise what it means

to be you.

Just you.

Poetry

Mirror diary

But what if I want to make my own choices?

Briar Rose said

as the fairies offered to hide her in the woods

away from all spindles.

What if the kiss that wakes me if I do succumb

isn’t welcome on my lips?

What if I refuse

to acknowledge the curse at all?

What if I can control my fate

without magic

without fear

without giving in?

What if

my story is not how it’s told?

Poetry

Mind Games

When you think of a brain –

all those fleshy, pinkish

folds, a bit like the goo

from Ghost Busters 2 –

do you ever see the star map inside?

All those electric connections

zig-zagging their way

across the galaxy

(no, not the chocolate bar,

tempting as it is).

Can you feel each little jump

from synapse to synapse,

like Mario in invincible mode?

I don’t all the time. But

sometimes I do, and I wonder

if that star map is the same as mine,

or different.

Poetry

Feathered Things

In the woods on a blue moon night sits an owl, who given the correct password, leads to a tired old raven, wise in many things and many ways. I ask it why the silence is always so painful, why the white waiting room that goes on forever is still never vast enough to contain that feeling. It replies; because if it were not so, we would never appreciate when the silence ends.

 

Poetry

A slap across the face

Struck like stone

hitting those sieving trays

You get at Legoland, hunting

For fool’s gold.

All gold is fool’s gold to me, the wish to claim

It just as childish as that game.

People get offended when you call them that.

Because no-one is allowed to be like that anymore.