Mirror repeats night

Avoiding the mirror,
the ritual repeats:
she drapes it with linen every night
while the magpies sing.
She doesn’t want to see her broken
self. She shuns her body.

The same body
that once seduced the mirror,
back when nothing was broken.
But cruel time repeats,
the days add up and soon there is nothing to sing
about. Bodies fade like curtains; they fade like the night.

She hides away in bed at night;
fat layers of feathers stifle her body
so it can no longer sing.
She has failed to mirror
the love she gives back at herself. Self-loathing repeats
and amplifies until she feels broken.

Her soul, it is broken,
needs elevating on pillows. It throbs in the night
while the pulse in her veins repeats
the pain. Heat swells in her body,
her mind a cool mirror
that refuses to sing. Read More

By extension

Let me be:

Your flashlight, to guide you through the dark
Your highlighter pen, to illuminate thoughts
The keys on your typewriter: push all my buttons
Your arms as they reach out empty and yearn

The password that opens the vault to your feelings
The file that scrapes away at the rough
A sling to support while you heal your cracks
A bandaid to cover your canker sore

The axle that turns your wheels to drive
The cogs in your brain that fire cognition
The rails you glide on to keep going straight
The skates that you don when you want to escape

I’m a chock-full feed-sack, receptacle for fodder
The pot that feeds so you’re nourished and fat
The depository that nurses all of your words
I’m the eyes that saw and the ears that heard

I’ll be your home, your walls, your safe
The windows and doors that keep the bad out
The chair that you sit in to bolster your body
The cradle that rocks you asleep from this world

Incumulonimbus

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How does one love a cipher, spook or fraud?
An incubus who wishes he was dead,
Yet penetrates his succubus in bed —
Such symbiotic nurture I applaud
How does one grieve the loss of an illusion?
Can one apply the real to the fake?
Twin vanishing, chimera, come awake!
Must I consume and purchase a delusion?
This thing was never real, was just a gist
Infection with such vaguery I purge
And cleanse all lingering of fantasists
It’s time to salve the lesion of this scourge
To dress and heal the wound that does exist
Rebuild, let light and good again emerge

Homecoming

bare roots and mycelium
spans of trees
with wrinkled epithelium
lungs breathe in and now exhale
weight me here

stormy skies and sun and spire
point up to the spirit man
cleanse our souls of muck and mire
root my anchor
drop me here

bare my feet and feel the soil
stand firm ground and find it solid
acquiesce the need to toil
sit me down
my home is here

Parasite

The empty parasite stumbles my way crying mama let me drink from your breast
Sucked together like magnets, I need your hollow mouth to suckle at my wellspring
Such a beautiful fantasy to nurture two lost souls denied their birthrights
Love’s absence is a pain I have known and never want another to endure; I can heal all of you and in it heal me too
So I give it up, I give up my breast, align my hollow parts with yours and watch our naked anti-matter bounce off each other’s dead cold skin like radar pings from alien lifeforms repelled from Earth’s atmosphere

In half

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Of 16630 days
300 were spent with you
And of those days divide by 2
For half-time here
and half-time there
Just 1 percent of all my days
A blip
A freak
An accident
And while we’re speaking
numbers and fractions
Let me ask you:
Does a half-truth + a half-truth = a whole truth or a whole lie?
Or a charming contradiction
wrapped in flattery
artifice
boredom
jealousy
hatred
and false camaraderie?
(let’s not forget immaturity)
And together do these half-truths form a whole as you two do?
For we all know that things can be false or true
Except for you —
you have slippery notions
and fractured views
on the fractions of truth
Not for you two the facts
nor inviolable truth
not the tangible, visible, physical truth
For there are no givens or facts with you
and you justify half- third- quarter- truths
As you cling and confuse
all those around you
mixing up who knows what
and who with who
And I wonder who’s been told
which half of the lie
And who’s been told
which half of the truth?
And then I remember
how little it matters
for the 1 percent blip, the accident of you
wasn’t ever real
wasn’t even true
was as fake as you
and your sad half-truths

Tim

cigarette-110849_1280Thirty years since the boy who smelled of smoke and skin moved away
You were only ever my height in chunky-soled steel-capped shoes
Furrowed brow puff down on your cigarette, gaze into my lens with intensity
(The bad ones always look at you sternly with barely concealed hate)
I grew more in time, bought copies of records we listened to while we fucked
on the mattress-covered floor — single or double, take your pick — mostly single, facing the window, you riding me like a jockey in heat
Billy and Leonard — reptiles and black satin — booze and yiros you refused to share
Withheld emotions and a mean resolve — hugs from the flatmate who loved me more — on our knees, embracing our shared pain of losing you
Margot was her name, but I was a goddess (or so you said)
A lesser goddess you refused to worship, refused to consume but happy to use
A pain so familiar and comforting, it was all I was worth to be your temporary whore

Mirror pool

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I never fell in love with you
I fell in love with me loving you
and loving unloveable me through you
How good it felt to love you
— unloveable you —
made loveable by me loving you
It made (the unloveable) me loveable too
all through the act of me loving you
loveable you, my self and me too

Loving you was loving me
— unloveable me —
Was love of me through abject mirror
reflecting me back onto you
and back to me
abject object
— me, you —
and how I prayed that in loving you
I was loveable too

I built self mirrors with light of love
refracted through the (dark and absent) void of you
an empty hole of a blackened self
We mirror back mirrors of my love
and mirrors of love reflect
the self and you and mirrors back to me
me too
I am loveable and no longer need you

Mother Gaia is on fire

fire

Mother Gaia is on fire
In her womb it burns and twists
Her flood of blood our exit wound
We are haemorrhaging
Caia Caecilia, goddess of fire
Protector of women
And hearth of home, container of fire
(Element of Gaia)
Save us all by shrinking flames
Create a heart(h) for our home
Our Mother Gaia
Contain the flames
But let the fire fuel our fight
Let it stay in our hearts
But not destroy us
Our anger’s bright
Our anger’s the thing that fuels the fight

While Gaia twists in uterine torsion
The head of her baby is squashed and dead
The brains of our leaders no longer work
They protect the tumour instead of the source
High ranking socios, psychos and pimps
They dance with the devil
In the dark of the shadows
Strangers to light they wander blind
Like moles out of tunnels
Can’t see what’s right Read More