It is hard for a messy mind to give
a definition to love and friendship. This changeable and unfathomable
link between people, animals, places and memories in many ways cannot
be incased within the words we mere mortals have been taught to
speak. It is in these instances that I turn to my trusted medium
of symbols and metaphors. I have always wondered why I think too
much, why some people have a life-long impact on my heart when I
struggle to remember the faces and names of others.
Those that I love are rewarded with loyalty and adoration, immortality
within words and art although dark sides of personalities on both
my and others sides expose the fragility of love and its need to
be nurtured. Buildings decay and get sold, people grow, age and
change. Feelings overflow and dissolve. But every now and then a
person, a place or an emotion will stir you and to me, that is the
beauty of love and friendship.
Note: Please do not take and use any of my poetry without prior
permission.
I
Can Sleep Well Tonight Let our worries fall like raindrops from an
intricate web
Let our dreams chase the shadows into light
Let tomorrow hold it own, for it not ours to fret
Let the moon smile above you all night
For grateful am I to have back my voice
The changes are clearer to see
And grateful am I that I have now the strength
To speak of what you mean to me.
Gone is the baby, grown is the child
I've spent my youth mourning for
Though precious they were to my sensitive side
Its time to embrace so much more!
A gift to me is the chance to know
That you are safe and alright
And down the road from you I know
That I can sleep well tonight.
Soul Knit Knit knit, candlelit
We sew ourselves together.
For two halves we are of chosen spirit
We searched the earth forever.
But one night we found on Scottish ground
Our love from lifetimes ago
So with needles and thread, that lasts till we're dead
Our souls and flesh we sew.
Souls entwine, bound by the seams
Creating a reality
That existed in dreams.
Batfink You knew me before I knew of you
It was why you called out to my subconcious,
Troubled my sleep
You chose your mother
While you grew within the oval safety of that egg shell
Curled and warm,
Heart beat steady
Sealed eyes and head under wing
The most precious treasure
I'd never known existed.
You think I rescued you that day?
Crampt moist cage
The never-ending chatter of your cellmates.
The sadness in your little chest when brighter birds were chosen
around you.
But I saw you.
I loved you
Scruffy little parrot chick covered in fluff
With all the softness of babyhood
Truth was,
It was you who rescued me.
For the day I took you home,
You cheeped shyly,
Eyes shining in your new home
And it stopped raining in my world.
Fly to me and sing my little wing
Hide and I'll find you!
May we have many happy adventures together, you and I.
For you awoke in me a happiness and peace
Ghost Of The Past You appeared in my thoughts today,
It's been a while.
And although my mind's eye is as clear as day
I regret never having photographed you.
But you are exactly how I remembered.
I hope that my memory will never fail me.
So that I can keep you with me in my older years,
And never will you age,
And forever you will stay
Exactly how I remember you.
And for this reason alone, I am grateful.
From The Nothingness To fall in love with words... and you
Scratchings and symbols etched onto a white limbo of nothingness.
The beautiful joining of chosen sequences
Tended lovingly like a winter garden.
Each word accounted for, known and adored,
Brought to life by the chosen other.
Words, written, spoken or mimed... in the darkness
Like hand picked flowers of assorted colours
Illuminate our faces beneath frozen waters in the dead of night
On the whiteness of skulls.
Yes, I love you like I love words.
My Jolly German You came into my life,
So precious and rare,
With a pint in each hand,
And scruffy blonde hair
You hate all things girly,
You live in your jeans,
But you're the most beautiful person
That I've ever have seen.
You hate pretty boys
But love David Gray,
And when guys try to woo you,
You let them all pay
You're clumsy and bashful
You're rubbish at pool
But in the presence of male friends
You're enviably cool
You belch really loudly
Make everyone stare
Then I'll try to top it
So they're all aware
Brought joy to my life,
And dampened my hurt
Yet it's still my ambition
To get you in a skirt
You're loud and upfront
But terribly wise
You're treasured by women
And cherished by guys
You're moody and grumpy
But awfully sweet
I laugh at the men
That fall at your feet
We drink til we're legless,
We laugh til we cry
You'll be my dearest Oina
Till the day that I die.
You're my jolly German!
You know how I love ya!
So happy we met,
Place no friend above ya!
So I'm writing this poem
To say thanks for the fun
And always remember
That you're my precious one.
The Siren's Song Come listen to the Sirens' song
Wails of many faces
And promises of a water kingdom
Sacred ocean places
Divine of voice, the water-dwellers
And beauty beyond measure
Cautious be, dear youthful sailors
Devoured for their pleasure
And laughing boys they gladly go
The water fills their lungs
And from the rocks, they gently walk
To follow the Ocean Ones
Poseidon's graveyard holds many souls
Of those the Sirens led
They open forth its sunken gates
And offer up his dead.
Dudhope Street 'Well, here we go again, Steph,'
My inner voice sighs.
On occasions she's mocking, hateful or sweet-talks,
Today she brings a comfort I can find in no other.
Me and my mind have wandered this troubled world together
Reflecting and plotting, rejoicing and conferring.
But I trust her.
I really trust her.
Yellowing paint flakes off walls
I suppose were once white.
And that familiar distant drumming becomes louder, faster.
As my heart and I delight in the potential of this new adventure
A picture here, a fold of silk curtain there.
And what of my flatmates....will they be cool?
Greying afternoon light seeps through that one corner window.
And if eyes are like windows,
Windows to the soul,
Then my new bedroom is a limbo, a wandering one.
Not too much light, not too much exposure.
Strange how a window can remind me of myself.
My eyes search the ceiling
High and Georgian.
A mass of pulsating veins or tangled serpents.
I count the cracks on my ceiling and smile at the irony.
Each line a result of an impact.
How many lines have I?
How lined am I?
I have a desk.
I lay out my pictures.
Painted soul-visions.
Discarded creations.
But the joy in the process of creating you.
I do love you.
I really love you.
'Here we go again, Steph'.
Said The Spider To
The Fly 'I want to take you somewhere'
Said the spider to the fly
That is what they've named them in Twilight's Asylum.
They're good to them there.
'They're good to us here'
Replies Fly.
'Why would we leave?'
He wipes his tears with the back of his sleeve.
'Breakfast at seven, games room till noon.
Cupful of sweeties and Mum visits soon.
Meds early evening and prayers before bed....'
Spider groans slowly 'Then we're already dead!'
'Trust me on this, these walls, they're our tomb!
Like an over-due foetus in a vast shrinking womb.
Imagine a place so divine you could cry
No wheelchairs to get there, we'll both simply fly!
He sees the light dim in Fly's gentle face
'Can you fathom a kingdom so sweet as this place?'
'I can't' Fly whimpers, 'and I won't
let us dream
For everything you say is not what it seems.
Look at this building, They've built its walls well
No one is leaving this ten-storey cell.'
'Close your eyes on this journey'
says Spider to Fly
'I will not leave you vacant and waiting to die.
Reality is the illusion, but drug-induced trance
Can make you grow wings of independence!
We can do it together, if we both use our heads
So when nobody's looking we'll increase our meds.
We'll descend into darkness then rebirth in light
In a garden of light by tomorrow night.
I'm through with reflecting, my sanity's dead
My body weeps drugs that we're every day fed.
Captivating illusions that keep us alive
Can soon be our world if we let ourselves die.
Gone is the soul-searching, for enlightenment we need
To fill us with light where our bodies now bleed.'
Fly cries, Spider holds him and together
they rock
A now common sight in the mental-health block.
'But what if I lose you in this distant land?'
'You won't for I'll never let go of your hand'
They were found a day later in lower
ward A
Gone were the spirits that long flew away
And in an other-worldly plain, they're still known to laugh
About the broken bodies depicted in their post-mortem photograph.
