Unwanted Ending
But I love you so much.
I so don’t want this to end.
I feel so lonely when you’re not there and my heart turns to stone.
How did we get to this desperate place?
I just don’t understand anymore.
You’ve blown my mind.
How did we get so lost?
In this malign and treacherous wood,
Birdsong as it grows dark.
Where will it end, O loved one?
With our parting,
Never to share each others thoughts again?
Never to see each others face again?
Never to kiss again?
It’s not that I can’t survive without you,
It’s just your radiant mind that’s so hard to be without,
And being apart from you,
Leaves a gaping hole in the centre of my life.
And however much you resent me now,
You will miss me when I’m gone
Psychic surgery will sever our two souls
And the scars will show for years.
We will be like Boris Karloff and Elsa Lanchester in Bride of Frankenstein,
Only we’ll die alone and not together, like they did.
And what about the cat,
What will become of him?
Think about his furry, ginger face and tell me it’s not all bad.
Oh loved one, do not leave us.
Becoming strangers, how can this be?
Tell me it’s not so.
But at this crossroads now looming
Our paths could separate forever.
But there’s the sting,
For a caged bird longs for freedom,
Not a cosy living room to sit in.
Do not go, my Psychic Witch,
Stay and darken my night.
Bring magic and mystery to my life.
But of course the cat is yours.
Parting Shots
So here we are then, finally at the end.
A parting of the ways, never to meet again.
We’ll stitch up the wounds, and clean up the blood,
And eventually it will stop hurting.
But for now, melancholy is all.
And this life is but a shadow.
So what was it all about, this confusion and strife?
Why did the nightingale have to die?
Who built this wall between us?
And where will our fates now take us?
Your reflection in my minds eye,
Now from a funfair hall of mirrors.
The scorpion’s sting and the lion’s claw,
Made a real mess of us both.
I’m shredded and bleeding,
And you’re full of poison.
And it’s too late to turn back the clock,
The damage is already done.
How could we hurt each other so?
In time, will we regret?
Will my ghost follow you down the years?
Or will you soon forget,
And only think of me,
As one of those mistakes people sometimes make.
Will your memory dog my days?
Will you make me wish for death?
Will my soul survive your leaving?
One becomes two, separated forever,
And my heart screams at the loss,
And I’ll scream for years.
The Wolf
He would escape, eventually.
For now, he was held fast by all the sweeter feelings,
But his day would come again.
All it took was a thought of bitterness,
Or malice,
Or envy,
And he would come tearing back into the world.
A distressed soul would unlock the door for him,
In a moment of weakness or need.
He would silently enter the heart,
And slowly eat them from the inside.
Doubt and misunderstanding,
Would drip like blood from his teeth,
Into the mind.
The rest would be easy.
He would capture the tongue,
And take pleasure in twisting words of vulnerability,
Into jealous accusation.
He would gnaw and bite and tear,
Until all that had been sweet was sour.
Betrayal and mistrust,
Were the gifts he offered,
And once accepted,
Seeped like poison into the veins.
Lovers were his favourite,
They had no defences,
And nothing brought him more pleasure,
Than to crush the first flower of love,
In front of their disbelieving eyes.
Separated Fox
So, the fox got separated from his mate.
He’d been so used to her being there,
That he’d just assumed that she’d always be there,
Somewhere round about,
Rooting in the woods,
Having her own daily adventures,
But never too far away,
And always easy to find.
It took a while,
For him to realize that she wasn’t about to emerge from the undergrowth,
Like she’d done so many times before.
He waited and waited,
Until well past dark.
But still no sign.
When it was fully dark,
And the stars had started to twinkle in the ebony sky,
He made a decision;
He would look for her in the dark wood.
Now, he wasn’t a stupid fox,
Not by any means,
And he knew what a treacherous place the wood at night could be.
It’s just that he couldn’t face life without her,
And would risk anything,
To find her again.
But he couldn’t find her,
And all he managed to do was get himself lost as well.
That’s when things got really tough.
Alone and afraid,
The fox got more and more tangled up in the dark wood.
His spirit sank,
And loneliness gripped his heart.
His cunning and guile left him,
His once beautiful brown and white coat now tatty and mud stained.
He lay down and cried.
And that’s when things got even tougher.
His sobbing attracted a wolf.
A great dark beast that you find in fairytales,
Ravenous,
Long sharp teeth,
And breath that paralyzed.
Poor little fox,
He was too tired to run,
And part of him hoped that the wolf would end his misery.
The wolf glowered over him,
Its green eyes burning in the darkness,
Its drooling maw inches from his trembling frame.
He felt its teeth sink into the back of his neck,
And it started to shake him like a doll.
It tossed him into the air,
Caught him again,
And shook him some more.
The wolf, of course, was enjoying itself,
The way that killer whales enjoy playing with seals,
And it rampaged through the wood tearing at the poor little fox.
But fate hadn’t done with the fox yet,
And in its own twisted way,
Intervened.
The flesh at the fox’s neck had become torn and weak.
As the great dark wolf shook the fox,
For what would have been the final time before the kill,
The skin and flesh gave way,
And the fox flew through the air out of the wolfs clutches.
He span through the night sky,
Blood pouring from the wound,
His body limp and broken.
Nearly dead.
But fate still wasn’t done with the poor little fox,
For in its rampage,
The wolf had taken the fox to the edge of the wood.
The fox landed in the road,
And was alive enough,
To see the headlights of the on rushing car,
Just before it hit him.
Blackness
Blackness, and then dreams.
He’d been a lucky fox after all.
The driver of the car was a vet.
Through long and difficult weeks
She nursed him back to life.
It was touch and go,
And three times he nearly died.
He had some permanent injuries,
She’d had to sew his skull back together,
And he’d broken many bones,
Some of which could not be set straight again.
But this was as nothing compared to the pain in his heart.
For he could not live without his mate.
When his strength returned,
As much as it ever would,
The fox brought the vet a chicken,
By way of thanks,
And limped off back into the wood to look for his mate.
After Crucifixion
It felt strange, not to be on the cross anymore.
Odd to look at the holes in his hands and feet,
And feel the wound under his heart.
He took up where he had left off,
Before he had been stretched and nailed,
Moving through the ordinary and mundane,
In numbed silence.
Occasionally he would remember the pain.
Out shopping he heard a song about Loves’ defeat,
And had to fight back the tears whilst buying cat food.
Watching TV brought its own tribulations,
And he could never tell,
When a picture or sound would open up his heart
And remind him of the trouble and strife.
Sometimes he found himself wishing he could rewind,
To the days before the scourging and breaking,
Before Parting and its cost.
But he knew that this could never be.
The torment had changed him forever.
Though in the secret chamber of his heart,
Hidden from even himself,
Desire and longing still dwelt.
And though he would never admit it,
He would endure a thousand nights on the cross
For a smile and a kiss.
Limbo
Coffee and endless fags
Twenty four hour news
Silent telephones
Thinking about when to draw the curtains
Books and computers
Junk mail
Not being bothered to eat
Awake all night
Listening for the door
Wondering if you’re in her thoughts
Frightened that she might hate you
Regretting all your foolishness
Cursing your malfunctioning soul
Not knowing what to say
Unable to put things right
Trying not to care
But caring more than words can show
Writing unread poems
Like two ships on a becalmed ocean,
Waiting for the wind and tide,
To take them to shore,
Or into separate and uncharted waters
Climbing Out of the Hole
It’s a long way to the top.
It’ll take a while,
But you’ll get there in the end.
You broke some bones when you fell in.
The’re never going to be set straight again,
And you’ll walk with a limp from now on.
Your fingers won’t be able to touch anyone.
You won’t be able to speak,
And Harpies will scream in your ears.
No one will ever understand you.
You will go blind and insane.
Eventually, you will die alone and afraid.
It’s a long way to the top
Two Foxes and Some Graffiti
At the edge of the ststion,
On a soot stained wall
Is a piece of graffiti
That’s been there for years.
It reads “Welcome Home Sexy”
How fortunate the author?
How lucky the reader?
To be so very much in love.
Further down the line,
As I stare through the dirty window,
I see two foxes slip into the undergrowth.
Obviously a couple
Sharing another day of adventure and trouble
United against the world
How lucky the fox?
How lucky his mate?
To be so very much in love
