Uninvited

(the 28th of February, 2010, London)

I wasn’t invited.
At the banquet
I wasn’t offered a seat
No food was laid before me.
Empty
I watched others eat
And foraged for leftovers
When
Beyond replete
No one but me
Was left wanting
The excess meat of
Extravagance
Eyes alight
I wondered
What it would be like
To never question
Your right to be
To wear the seamless coat
Of entitlement
Like 'The Free':
With nonchalance
And grace.

The sure-footed.
Admire their solid ankles
Their feet
Heavy anchors
Secure against
The shifting sands
Of society.
The tilted chin
The assertive grin
They use up the space
Unapologetic.
They take their time:
Monologic.

Once you believe
There are Gods
Walking amongst us
Royalty
Unburdened by doubt
How would you not want
To neighbour them
In that exclusive
Dwelling of
Satiated
Sanctity?

Depart

(By Gub, the 20th of February, Toronto)

I had a dream
While you were sleeping
That the world was dead.

Aside from you
(And me) and
The things
In our heads;

Theo and Mia
And the houses
We loved and the kids
Staying over
And beaches
And barns
And camping in clover...

All safe from harm.

Safe in the story
The past
Our charm

To ward off
The warlocks
Keep evil
At bay

The unremembered
World dies
For sure

Recall the day.

Arrival

(the 20th of February, 2011, London)

Lay
Unfamiliar mound
With crumbs of
Dreams and
Tangled threads
To find
A way bound

Lagging way behind
Pursuit
Is a restless hound
I carry fear and
Hope that
All things missing
Will soon be found.

Ride
Taxis, planes
Underground trains
Cross
Bridges over parallel
Muddy memory lanes

Finally arrived
Shattered
I sink into your arms
Thawing snow dissolved into
Thirsty ground.

I'm not your rock.
Just hardened
Play-dough
Warming
In your hand.

Being Normal

(the 8th of February, 2011, London)

I hear your plea.
What you want
Is to navigate
Across the wheezing sea
You dream
Of that mythical land
Where only the Good
Can hear the paradise bird sing.

But all you have is
A toy boat -
An old wind-up
With a broken spring

I hear your plea
For I am a fellow
Pilgrim to that holy place
Peddling distance
Between myself and
The ugly, twisted face
Of my inheritance

I do fear though
That if I ever
Enter
This promised heaven
Where the sage
Are always on the same page
Normality
Will turn out to be
Nothing more than
A colossal gilded cage.

Mimesis

(By Gub, the 30th of January, Toronto)

What thrusts the
Recalcitrant
Player
Towards the light?

Stretches the Signet’s
Neck
As a measuring tape

Records failure
Dispassionate as time.

This abusive desire for artifice,
For vision,
To re-dress the set.

Wretched the aspiration
To challenge imperfection
With inner beauty, or perceived
strengths.

In Wind and running water
Words drown.

The black swan’s
Victory is the suicide
Of the white swan

Love dies
Incomprehensive
Of duty -

To god.

Such hunger to
Exceed mortal
Station

Break the bounds
Of divine configuration.

To dream otherwise is insanity.

And yet,

We must.

Longitude

(the 27th of January, London)

I’ve laboured
Triumphed
Over movement
And distance
Time’s hunger
Forgotten,
Firmly encased in a
Watch-size pocket.
Weary sentries guard
The lonely wolf
Of desire.
When the night is black
And the stars seem
Distant sea-gypsies,
Draw close to home
The perfect line
Where world begins,
Zero degrees of separation,
A lead back to you.

In The Room

(the 15 of January, 2010, Ealing)

In the room, half past noon
We sat down and she said:
"You may pretend to be a professional
If you choose
But
You’re wearing the wrong coloured shoes
I can’t take my eyes off your silver shoes"
So I thought
I'm too visible
Your eyes too eager
Now that I've felt
Your bite
And I’m still here
Pretending the pieces of "I"
Are all together.
Lets find out whether
I can do enough
Yo take your mind
Off my
Wrong coloured shoes
To find out why the black bird in your head
Sings the blues.

In the room, half past one
We sat down and he said:
"I am the reason mum and dad
Still share the same bed
I am the saviour, the prophet,
The kid that the chef wouldn’t dare to buffet.
And I want to do good, and I want to do well-"
I just stared at him
As if under some spell.
And I too longed to worship this golden calf
And I could tell that
Love
Would never be sweeter
If I could hold
Those hands
Peeling with dryness
If I could kiss those eyes
Melting with sadness.
If I could just say:
You are good, my love, good.
The hour closing in on us,
I saw him away
Aura, wings and all,
Seeped through the door.
A golden ship sailing out of the bay.
And it felt as if light
Had been sucked out of the room.
Cinderella was left in rags
Holding a broom.

In the room, half past two
We sat down and she said
"Drugs have taken my son.
To me he is dead, to his own miserable habit wed.
I can’t cry no more"
And she wept and she wept
She was spilling all over the floor
I fought the flood
Threw buckets of water
Overboard
Until my arms were sore
Until I felt I could not hold this bending willow
Any more.
I kept my feet dry
My eyes firm on the shore.
Later, alone
On a platform to home
I took a chance look
Down the bottomless
Well of sadness
Searing incarnate madness
I cried raw tears
Under Detatchment’s
sturdy dome.