November 6, 2011

I want to carry you like guilt
into a room
smelling of dust and books.

Like all the yesterdays we drowned in,
the mattress on the floor is a truth
waiting to be obscured
by the veils
that protect our songs from the streetlight

then you’ll remind me
that at night
the words that you say
become the oaths that i live by
until I die again

and I will reach for your lips
watching your eyes for danger


In 2006, 7 and 8

November 26, 2010

In 2008
we fought for her suffering –
a bunch of maddened wolves
the scraps of a life;
and I think that I gave mine away

The weight of responsibility
was measured in ounces of sorrow
‘yours yours yours yours yours yours yours’.
it filled me,
like a cheap toy at christmas.

Today I hear no bells
in the city of mud;
The silence tolls a reminder
For me, for me.

Bells will be bells and will toll again. Now,
when another teacher begins his journey,
A promise! to fight for what’s mine;
A stuffed toy
no forgiveness
and no compassion
for those in its way

sweden, october 2010

November 12, 2010

I ride on studded tyres to get to you
This land forgets forgiveness in August
Take of all you wear, country
We’ll meet when you are naked
and I comfortable

I ride on studded tyres just as
we once
drove north
through snow
towards tomorrow,
a case of gangsta rap in the Mitsubishi

Each passed day shears
Another thimble off my memories
And so I’ve fled the cruelty
of sunrise at ten
and sunset at four
for longer days

Way out

August 31, 2010

Marie lived in the present
She used to smoke at parties
Death curling from embers
Framed her face in gray

I only remember
That she was always leaving
Her only way was out
Slamming doors a passion

She hated the term captain
She never tipped the driver
Even change for the barman
A coin for the toilet attendant

She was great at giving
We all knew her genius
Who could have predicted
That she would depart the stage

Token resistance

August 29, 2010

She offered token resistance
To hands ready for flesh

She never told her mother
That on Tuesdays
She was a working woman
On Wednesdays
A secretary
On Thursdays
A dog walker
And on Fridays she met me

We never laughed together
We never shared silence
She thought I had plenty to offer
In fair exchange for her breath

London, July 2010

July 9, 2010

The distance that separates us

The distance that separates us
It makes me much more creative
Restraint is for academics
I’m but a painted jester
The city destroys your worthy
While con men strive for perfection
It isn’t that good for comfort
The cynics all get promoted

I pass a ship in a bottle
Its  sea is frozen in danger
And Nelson stands on his column
Surrounded by sweat and tourists
O brave and sagacious admiral
Who wielded men like a rapier
Did you ever walk through SoHo
Surrounded by iPod music?