Lower the curtain on life Open the door to memory not unchanging, but over the years to whiter purity Time bleaches out hate, the bad the ordinary From arms embracing to embrace of pine Loves enfolding never leaves even as you slipped from our grip Enter stage right Exit stage left No audience, … Continue reading Bobbie
Category: Poetry
Lose
She says she doesn't want to lose me as if I can change it the hour and day writ from birth unchanging What’s life? What is served to live another one, ten, fifty years what purpose promoted? Is the preservation of I so important? Seemingly hollow as someone said a waste of breath what … Continue reading Lose
Maton
Sitting. Waiting. Solitude. Encased, locked, released only by my hand, mine and only mine. Once perfect now scarred, scratched, dented. Used – and at times – abused. Her worn exterior speaks of bond and lasting beauty. Cold, wooden, lifeless at first. Slowly warming under my hand, flowing, stretching. In fading light through darkness, dying night … Continue reading Maton
Lost
Granddad lost himself in the bottle Dad lost himself in work I lose myself in food It’s all addictive personalities self-destructive blinkering thank fuck it ends with me My brother in law lost himself with a shotgun an uncle in snow and vodka another with high powered cars It’s all self-loathing, all suicide just … Continue reading Lost
R.U. O.k.?
“Are you OK?” chipmunk face asks, donut coffee offerings in hand. The heck are you? Annual RUOk day, yellow clad ritual tokenism. Ask one inane question. Accept only one answer. Hear nothing. Am I Ok? You don’t know? Can’t you feel? Work, here, no-one says jack. Chained to desk and screen invisible corporate battery hen. … Continue reading R.U. O.k.?
Anita
Yes she’s separated he says two years, it’s been rough but she’s mending In response to my whispered question. I’d been with her at the airport lounge she knocking back the doubles faster than I recalled her doing Laughing joking grin wild Has my boy done the lawn Has he done Has he not done … Continue reading Anita
Sharne
She pruned roses with a chainsaw grows back fuller, better learned it from an old man You’re nuts andrew she said she smiles bet you make plastic planes, read sci-fi Yeah sharne you don’t belong constrained ex-army all that drive, creativity shackled He sold spots in phone books now to PNG … Continue reading Sharne
