Wednesday, 12 December 2012


Break away
From this night of
Second chances
Where we meet,
As a river
Flowing nowhere.

With your hair
Your body
Reach me
In the only way
You know.

The day and
Hidden sounds
Of a forgotten banquet,
Swallowed tears
And ebbing mascara.

Not to tear away
From the embrace
Of fire
Or burning,
Of the lips
And eyes
Like fireflies
In the dark.

Monday, 3 December 2012

Chasing words

I sometimes think I know, now that I'm a little old - but honestly, I think I'm still trying to learn that I shouldn't try and find poetry in everything. It's not a meal that's served in front of you, it's a chase or a hunt that must be experienced..and if need be, set free. Things that people remember may come from you but great things that you feel proud of always come to you. There's a delicate balance between resting and fleeing and as I said, I'm still trying to learn.

Saturday, 1 December 2012

The Healing

No, today doesn’t die alone
Watch the withered colours run
From what the candle light has shone
Through tales of ghosts and freedom

Through touch of yore
And widened eyes of youth
That caress the fields of green
And within this forsaken shelter of little light
I laugh, and begin to breathe.

Will I find you in the tides?
At the periphery of waking?
Whisper and tame the spell of time
It is yours for the taking.

They may burn this tree down
But the roots will remain
The hope of age shall spring anew
After the falling of the rain.

And I shall follow your raindrops
Until on that cold floor, I kneel
If the sky is a wound
The moon will heal.

Sunday, 25 November 2012

Shades of You

The shade of the day
Spill in to the evening
And the night is born
Where she dances, for no one in sight
And sometimes alone.

And words won’t stick to you
My beast of burden
My ocean bird
Know that my tired voice needs healing
Give it time, and
It will sing and soothe.

And though, powerless, I shall
Hum a new start
And bid goodbye to the heart
Of every dream’s waking
Where, at the edge of every answer
Lies the periphery of a crash
Where my fears collide
And I watch myself
Get consumed by you and die.

Friday, 23 November 2012


Where is her bottled flesh?
Is it exhumed and forgotten?
Where is my torn redemption?
Does it lie,
Surrounded by flies,
Withered and rotten?

This was a war
I was meant to lose
With my arms and armour
Of the chosen few.

I could try,
To not be capsized,
But panic spread through the crew.

Monday, 5 November 2012

Poetry On Road

They were laying poetry on the road,
Surrounded by steam
Oblique and mysterious
Soon to be left naked and flattened
Worn out, like
Words moulded in fire
Ripped off of verse.


What will you change?
A sky stripped of clouds
A smile in a wave of smoke
A voice through the garden
All these trudge along
Like children holding hands
On a road drenched with rain
Devoid of direction
Looking for a name.

Wayward Stranger

Harshly, you hit the road’s tide
Souvenirs, in your eyes
Wayward stranger with crooked teeth,
Send all your keepers home
And play by the colours old.
Time will run its course with you
Bruise you, burn you
And make you new.
So send all your kingdoms home
The grace never leaves us all.
And don’t go walking
With the same old ruse
Don’t you know I was
Never made for two?

Monday, 24 September 2012

Women Left Alone

Woman left alone
Tired, waiting
Call me out through the fog.
The time for verse
Is dead and gone
Time for us is now.

Woman left speechless
Hollow, empty
Ebb through me
Speak without a sound
Dance around the fire
Dance with my words

Red, like the evening
Red, when you were born.

Woman left laughing
Scant and vacant
Reaching for someone else’s hand
And leaving without a bow
Time for words is dead and lost
Time for us is now.

So woman, yield to me
All your weapons and armour
All the tricks that you employ
Take from me my wretched empires
And all my forgotten toys.

As I come to you
Woe begotten and hands tied
Clean and purged from within
Tell me a day will come
When the sun rises from your eyes
And settles beneath your skin.

Monday, 3 September 2012


Sometimes i wish she would speak to me like she talks to a dog.


What time does not wither
And age cannot decay,
Is your beauty made in silence
What words cannot say.

Though you oft roam asunder
Like a cloud without a home
Your steps, they always rhyme
Even when alone.

Seasons of summer
Seasons of fall
Deep in your eyes
I meet them all.

And when winter comes,
I beg to stay
Like a vagabond, with
Hope of being astray

What time does not wither
And age cannot decay,
Is your beauty made in silence
What words never say.

You’re the candle
I, the wind
You’re the song
Words can’t sing.

You might be everywhere
Anywhere, nowhere at all
In everyone, anyone
Big and small.

Tender and little
Crude and bent
There was silence when I met you
Silence when you left.

What time does not wither
And age cannot decay,
Is your beauty made in silence
What words cannot say.

Thursday, 2 August 2012


Bring me silence
Bring me wine
Or give me sleep
Where I dream I am,
One of your
Paper effigies.
Careless and tender
Entwined in you.

But how shall I be done with the cities of you?
With the streets that always
Lead me to you.
All your structures bound by tragedies
These ruined cities aren’t pastures
For the mind.

Rid the fever
Where the fear chooses you,
Casts a spell unaware.

And walk, with
Your waves crashing at my shore
Your towers falling down
And yet, caught in your currents
I go on
Mired in the horror
That today won’t last.

And what do I say to you as you

You are truer than truth
More vivid than a brushstroke
And on your canvas
Like the rest before you,
I will drown gently
Like the sun setting
In distant, mellow waves.

Sunday, 29 July 2012

In dreams

I dreamt of a place
Where my words don’t touch you
And the world was drowning.
Cars lay dead on the roads
Without words,
Without sounds,
There was death everywhere.

I saw you shining
In my dreams
In a place where words wouldn’t move
But the willows, like your dress
Swayed in the wind.
And the sun on your arms
In your eyes, was still
Still, like you.
And there was silence everywhere.

Silence as you walked
Silence as I woke.


What is a woman that doesn't love? Never wronged, watches and hates and breathes from the tower of men around her. And soon, grows into a flower no one will reap and no one will sow. A woman with no songs isn't a woman at all. For a woman who is silent, is a shackled woman.


I used to dream like the breeze. Now I dream like a highway car crash pile-up. The vast expanse of my subconscious stretching out like a road on which all the little glowing engines of memory trudge along, just a little too close, at a breakneck speed.

Saturday, 26 May 2012


I thought I was supposed to be good or at least, okay at them but why must I always lose with words to learn something new?

Friday, 18 May 2012


Its necessary to have friends that go, ''These are the days'' instead of those that always crib, ''Those were the days.''

End of the world

The world will end like a boring conversation.



Flat on its face.


If today touched me with its paper hands
Wings of light, white walls
And shadow clocks
If it greets me like a familiar song
I used to hum
Lost pages of a notebook
Or words in a foreign language
I will come undone like a ball of wool
My grandmother used to fashion
Into sweaters.
And ache, like aged, cracking spines of books
Covered with dust and webs of memory
Creak in solemnity, like chairs of my family
Shy away like sparrows in their nests.
And wonder if today shades
Me like a bending tree
A vine to a wall
If it encloses its arms around me
Like a pomegranate shell.
Out on the streets, where
Every wound is open and
Every tale is old.
Where I trudge, with my
Bed of flames, my sea of lies
And stab the dark with my words
That do not touch you.
Frail words, bound by a shallow surface
As useless as a scar with no stories to tell.
So tell me you need my touch
As your candle burns slow
And your flame stands still
My embrace of bones draped in skin.

Wednesday, 16 May 2012


Sometimes you're just another mirror for what I can't have.

Nowhere words

Maybe I write words without a home, with roads that go nowhere. My words are as faceless as me.

Winters gone

25 winters have passed since i was born and the 2 and a half i spent with her were the happiest i ever had.

Rewind, repeat

I huddle towards my bed at night like a thief, taking solace in the shadows, careful to never make a sound. Its 4am. The birds have started chirping restlessly, soon the day will be born again. Soon my tired eyes will wake to find everything looks old. Soon everything will be the same as yesterday.


Friends are sunshine,
Upon these cold, haggard bones
When love leaves like summer
Through the backdoor.


Its alright. Its ok. You'll be alright. Pretty soon, you won't feel anything.

Wednesday, 18 April 2012

The drought

Old sketch i made on 1/8/2004

Monday, 2 April 2012

Where the stream goes

In the vicissitudes of time,
I follow the river and
Watch it turn into a stream.
Overhead, the clouds break like glass
Scatter over the sky’s canvas
As I broke once, into your open arms
Like an old mirror
You grew weary of keeping
And looking into.

Now my collar hangs upon my neck
And tightens like a noose.

And the stream flows on,
Like a departed friend or,
An empty street at night.
It listens and forgives and
Starts to sing

My songs are an ocean before her empire
Where the sun of your memory
Rises everyday
Feeds the roots of my eyes
Wishes and overflows
Sleeps and sways.

But the stream rages on
With all its answers,
Grows thinner for the bird to rest her feet
Gets warm for the woman to wash her hair
Pale for the man to quench his thirst
And for those that he loves

It lingers on, smiles and dies.

Thursday, 15 March 2012


And words, they dissolve
Like sugar on your tongue
Like ice on pavements of summer
Like yellow leaves in spring.

Words, like days and strangers
Pass me by, faceless, on the road.

Old words are enemies,
Songs and friends you
Choose not to meet.

Sometimes, in black of the night
Words are mirages, maybe unknown birds
Words are places that howl at dawn
That murmur and scream.

Words are your own curse
When you become what you write.

And words of morning are born
Through the dark
When it’s easy to paint her
On the canvas of tomorrow
With shades that make a tale.

Know deceiving words
That follow and never rhyme,
If you go where your story goes,
To meet the horizon
Or into a crude moon
Don’t end where it begins.

Monday, 5 March 2012

Pages of the mind

Remember me as a day
When rain fell free on everyone
And washed in my shade
You roamed with a tale to tell.
Or remember me as the rain
That drenched no one.

Remember me as a cloud
That changed its shape when winds changed direction
Caught in the sun of your eye
Our reflection was beautiful.

Or remember me as a cloud that
Drifted and found only you
To give my shapes a name
Before words had a home.

Remember me as an open road
Moonlit at night, naked as a fish
Bereft of the sea, gasping for air
Going in circles around you.

Or remember me as the night
When I surrendered into your open arms
Between your glowing breasts
Like a vagabond moon
With a promise of healing.

Thursday, 12 January 2012

Winter In Me

You who lies there
Silent and vacant as a tree
With your roots going nowhere
I speak to you now.

Winter comes undone in circles around you
And I
Break the only knot I know.

And as I unwind on orphaned roads
I speak but stay silent about tombstones
Watching my dark city sweep
Its filth under the pavements.

I know
I rage without a reason
I burn without a flame
My voices have no words

Yet, the winter in me waits
As my voice awaits your presence
Like water shackled within a glass
Waiting the release of your lips.
Wishing to spill
Into your conversations
When I’m not there.

And I wish, as only a dreamer would
To hold the world in your eyes
To touch you with my words
With my silence
To hold you
To bite each day to its very core
To call each thing
By its right name.

To wake and find
The roads are washed and pure
The skies are clear and leaves are green
To find, suddenly, the sparks are flames.


But everything must be filled with time,
Or at least, a reminder of the same.
That's why there is no silence
That's why we have names.