Daffodils

I see you in the daffodils.
Your neck below their heads
Your legs outstretched on green
The blanket on your bladed bed

I’m reminded there are worse things
To see you in at times
I’ve woken, shaking madly
Catching your face next to mine

This reminds me I am better
To see you here, old friend
To forget the burn of our last words
And fall in love again.

Yellow makes me well now
And it looks good on you too
One day you’ll burst up in the sky
Amber hair on azure blue

And all the world will see you
Though they may not know your face
But I will know you’re up there
And we’ll meet again one day.

On Eastern Avenue

She wasn’t there when I saw her.
Absent and empty and gone,
Her face caked in vomit and saliva,
Nothing behind her eyes at all,
Slumped in her seat as the needle,
Had drained the life from her body,
Slower than it pushed it in.
I half expected blood to pool on the floor,
Of the car in the footwell and the inside pocket,
Where she kept her CDs.
Bowie and Bowie and Bowie,
His lightning face paint, and staccatos,
Still playing from the speakers,
As I tried to shake her awake,
As the ambulance came,
And the flood of its lights tricked me,
Into thinking she came alive again.

Here we left it

Your eyes are filled with sadness, dear.
Your heart is growing dark,
You do not smile the same, sweetheart,
Your laughter’s lost its spark.

I don’t know if it’s you or me,
Or the space between us both,
But when I see you, you are not the same,
As the man I loved the most.

My words are heavy on my tongue,
Too much for lips to start,
We separate with soft, sad words,
Far from the fire of the start.

The Monster

There’s a monster in my chest
He beats my heart like drums
I’m choking on this blood of mine
That’s pooling in my lungs.

I feel as though I’m drowning
And my vision’s turning white
Blur before me, avalanche
Tell me that I’m right.

There’s a hole inside my body
Where you’ve eaten me away
I squint through colour, motion, shame
I stumble to the end of days

Jerusalem falls around me
The soldiers at the wall
Have laid siege to my temple
Just a day too long

It’s October, when I crumble
Flames burn away my gold-tinged skin
I fall like Autumn leaves
And whisper curses to the wind.

There was something here, once
A beauty to be had
But I lost that, oh years ago
When everything turned bad

I am the image of no one.
The sky is empty tonight
My limbs are dead around me
And my neck is flecked with blight.

I zone out to rope and medicine
And vomit down my front
There are monsters haunting me
From which I turn and run

They’re down every hallway
Handprints on every wall
They’ve cracked every floorboard
Pandemonium feels so small.

My body’s not my own now
I’m blood and flesh and shame
That’s why I call him Monster
For I do not know his name

Tears rip through my eyelids
And spill right down my face
This isn’t what I wanted
This boiling, burning place.

But I see him when I close my eyes
And count, so slow, to ten
I choke on black and empty space
And whisper my amen.

I’m begging you to save me
Just pull me out of here
I don’t know if I want to die
But I do want to disappear.

I want you to rest me easy,
Cotton, for my face,
Press til I stop kicking,
And over me, say grace.

Purge the evil from this vessel
And rid the monster, yes
I s’pose I’ll meet you in the elsewhere
It’s not for me to guess.

The Fate of the Wood

They are ripping down the cherry trees,
With teeth of steel and iron,
Before dusk, when the moon’s still up,
Beneath Draco and Orion.

The grunts of sweat and blood and men,
Are deafening in the night,
Shadows painted on the soil,
From their glowing torch of light.

The fruits were picked off long ago,
It was winter when they came,
Soldiers clad with helmet and axe,
And titles instead of names.

Amongst the throng there are no cheers,
When the first bough hits the ground,
A thud, then a scatter of leaves,
A resolute and aching sound.

On the Cobalt

Hair dark as driftwood
Eyes clear as glass
The time of the Ancients
Has not come to pass

You fly through the water
You stare back at me
Your home is the rivers
Your home is the sea.

Shipwrecked, we lay
On sand and soil
Your silent words bubble
Like eggs in oil

When I look to you
I see nature bare
Like the sun, my eyes water
If for too long I stare

You pull me under
My lungs tear apart
You gasp and remember
My mortal start

Holding me close
In your plywood arms
I gasp at the surface
Your hand on my heart

That’s where you keep it
Coming forth I see sails
And the yachtsman gasps
At the girl with the scales.

I Don’t Think Cupid Met Us

I wish that you would hold me,
As dusk brings the end of day,
And all my aching troubles,
Would get up and fade away.

Like shadows they would leave me,
Cast long in evening air,
But then you switch the light on,
And the shadows go elsewhere.

Darling, reach inside me,
There’s a storm behind my eyes,
I’m trapped in life and body,
I’ve grown crooked, to despise.

Take the fire out, leave me empty,
And kiss the stars goodnight,
I will blur the lines of emptiness,
Or calm behind the eyes.

If you held me I’d die happy,
I could pass soundly in my sleep,
I just need to think that if I did,
Over me you’d weep.

And I’d look down from three feet up,
And smile softly too,
That I didn’t waste twenty years,
But when you leave I know I do.