Everything I Say Is Wrong

These words spew forth,
They erupt out of me,
I don’t know what my words mean,
I try to connect the dots,
And then I see who I have been.
They don’t say what I mean,
But they do say what I feel.
There is a growing disconnection,
Between my words and my feelings.
And I am a monster with those words,
Who spits hurt effortlessly,
I am endlessly misinterpreted.
Even by me.
The vocabulary I have is lost in the effort
To communicate in a lexicon
That can’t reflect me,
And my words go lost.
And in the moment I say those things,
Then I agonise over what I have said,
And I analyse the words away.
I vocalise the things I think I may have meant,
Spend hours dreaming up reasons,
For the contradictions.
But I am in a circulate of confusion,
Because I don’t know why words arrive,
And why I birth them when I do.
I am in a place of nowhereness,
My language restrains me.
My language is everything I feel,
And nothing I mean.
The control is gone,
Its direction is lost.
Everything I say feels right,
Yet, everything I say is wrong.

Life’s race

Your past will catch up with you,
It doesn’t matter how fast you run.
The history you’ve restrained,
Will seep through, undermine, then flow out,
And flout itself and goad you,
Never to be tamed.

Long time dead deeds threaten you,
Like a vengeful ghost echoing names.
You know this will engulf you,
So make meaningful what you have made,
’til it serves you no more and
Before it’s too late.

Stalked by premonitious fate.
Like thunderous beatings on the ground,
All around you rings despair,
Lifting the shroud on a songless corpse,
That gapes a future-past you;
Terror resides there.

Where you run, you don’t yet know
And as times go by, the start is lost.
And the cost is far too great,
A burden you are shattered beneath.
No matter how fast you run,
It will be your past that’s won.


This is my long goodbye.
My preminicious destiny,
Taking away what’s left of me,
Giving way to the lie.

Goodbye. Goodbye. Goodbye.

I’d cry,
But that is yet to come.
I’m done,
But how long to go on?
Those youthful indiscretions haunt me
And my ghosts stalk in the darkness,
Waiting for the moment to eviscerate.
To leave me at first hollow,
My life, disentangled and strewn before me,
Before I am lost to life.

Beware. Beware. Beware. Beware.

My tears would cry dry,
My face feigns hope,
My future concluding.
I am toxic
And I despair.

Despair. Despair.

I walk with you all at my side,
But I am like mummified remains,
Hollowed and transformed,
Yet wrapped in this life,
But I am the ghost,
For my time has done.

What Elephant Name

There’s an elephant in the room,
A huge looming spectoral presence,
That I brought into being and that haunts me.
I ignore glimpses of that entity,
But everyone else senses it’s there,
And no one utters a word.

I fear it.

If I accidentally spoke its name,
Or if they were to raise their gaze,
Or were it to be pointed out,
This gargantuan ghostly form
Would be realised for all to see.

It terrifies me.

And so it will go unsaid,
Until no longer can it be contained.
It will loose and break free,
And shake the foundations
Of the room, of the stability.

I am petrified.

But maybe if we spoke its name
We could conjure it into life?
Look it in the eye,
Feel its hot breath on our cheeks.
Maybe then we’d deal with the elephant.
Perhaps then we could closet it
Away with the skeletons.
Put so much paper over the cracks
They hold fast and true.
Create a polite fiction
And one day, at it, laugh.

I am a fool.

Alone with an elephant.
I don’t know its name,
Although I knew its birth.
I don’t want to look its way,
But I’ll know it when I see it.


That foreign place, 
Those foreign faces,
Reflected in your mirror.
Recoiling from that future light,
Finding solace in your own midlight,
The answer, if you dare, is there.

Dark eyes

What underlies these terrible eyes,
That greet me when I wake?
Panda eyed,
Boy denied,
Look upon yourself.

Fate the cruel clock ticks,
Hearing its heavy hammer hit,
Like a second hand counting down:
Days crash by.
It’s creeping up on me,
This premonitious destiny.

Dark eyes like an addict.
In public people stare,
Implicit questions there,
Their distance they’ll keep.
These eyes, of me, speak

What underlies these terrible eyes,
And what secrets they do keep.

No more bills, fears of an impotent provider

I’ve let a house define me.
Like so many before.
I’ve created a role which gives me meaning,
“I have to keep going, to keep us strong, established, stable, together.”
Head down.
“This is why I exist”

This thin veil is cut through as quickly as a guillotine dispenses of a long redundant royal head.
And as I am relieved of certain responsibilities,
I find myself to be not relieved.

To my surprise, I’m the one that struggles with the change, 
the pressing necessity to keep us warm and dry, gone,
I see the opportunity,
But this freedom does not liberate me,
It endangers me,
It lands me on a line at a distance from my being.
Demanding of me a new definition,
A new raison d’être.

Like when the wings of an angel
Are clipped by god
At angelic request,
The consequences are read only by omniscient eyes and never wholly relayed.
Thus hoodwinked,
I’m left teetering on the precipice,
The normal restraints, retaining me, removed.
Left hoping my faith in my existence and that of my family will save me from a fall and from the worst of myself.

I see it

You’re not ok
But you say you’re fine
You smile to set my mind at rest
But I’m so good at the signs.
You want to make the world ok
For everyone around
Those maternal instincts kicking in
Things you can’t fix will bring you down.
All consuming thoughts
Regimentation of the day
Offer protection and stability
But it doesn’t make you ok

Be the rock, take it all
Solve their problems if you can
But you can’t, no one will
Your attempts will all fall down.

It’s not about the others
Your responsibility’s to you
It’s time for you to admit
The hurt you’re going through
And it torments you every day
The way I’ve seen in myself before
When white mists began to edge
And lick at my thoughts
All consuming thoughts
Regimentation of the day
Offering protection and stability
It doesn’t make us ok

Juddering Nights

The juddering nights awaken me
“Nightmares again Dear?”
Anxiety to fear
Fear of what isn’t clear
I draw you near
The issue persists
Nocturnal, episodic hauntings
I helplessly witness
Your hands and feet flail
But your face shows no distress
I draw your sleeping body close
But the issue still persists
Persists for me to witness
And it cuts at me so
Though calming with my caress
I’m forced to question your happiness

The soporific effects of an insomniac’s lover

They lay there, all legs, hands, arms and feet
Entangled like the roots of an old well formed tree
Supporting each other tenderly
Offering tactile security

Hands cupping shoulders
Feet drawing in legs
“Feel safe with me”

Words spoken through a glance
A pronounced stare
A tapping finger
“Know I care”


This space
This time
This repletion

Drowsy serenity
It’s almost scary that sleep could be so natural
Don’t question it

The continuous caress of that body being there
The rhythmic motions of existence
Susurrant demands in that silent moment

And in the darkness
Be still fears of the licentious licks of that other lover
The one that rouses from dreams
The one that demands conscious streams

Then awaken to find morning has come
Dozing and warm and welcoming the sun
Contentment touches the corners of each lover’s lips
Another conquered night given over to bliss