I Love It Less And Less

Out walking this weekend,

I passed through open spaces,

places that were green,

wooded, unseen. Sometimes

I saw only the good, sun and

blues skies, mist and frost,

lots of birds and trees

I could not name,

nothing man-made, no

dwelling-places, though

I heard the sound of him,

his cars and jets and roar

of dirt-bikes, ugly voices.

His noise annoys me.

Always has. It is late

at night. Alone, drinking,

thinking of my outcast state,

here, in this place of mine,

a space designed

for those like me

to live and die in,

for just surviving,

more and more,

and every day,

the less and less

I want to stay.

The Dark In Me

Oh, god I love a good great stormy sky.

It calls to me in ways that sunny

days just never could. The good that should

be there in every heart was not in mine

right from the start. I am made that way.

I love the dark more than the light, the night

more than the day. Good people just

unsettle me, regretfully, though thankfully

they are so rare. I don’t care. There

is no place to hide

the dark in me,

the side that people see, though I

have tried. Besides, there is no point.

I am what I am, and you are you. All

we can do is be true to us, to what we are,

light, or dark. And sometimes, to my own

surprise, I rise to it, my darkness,

I prize it.

For who in all this world would crave

to be not dark, not light,

but grey?

The Morning Moment

When you wake up to that first

morning moment

anything is possible. The day has not begun,

and it is full of unmade promises. Wrapped up in

sheets of myself below a ceiling

blank as my thinking, I begin. I think of

the things I can do. I can buy a ticket, a lottery

ticket, and win a life

worth living.

I can write the story that is

there at my fingertips, where it always has been,

waiting for the untold moment. I could paint, badly

as ever, but ever so happily, or draw the same way,

inept and in secret. I could stand up and sing a song

of sick sense, light some incense, paint a wood fence,

make up nonsense

for myself.

I could find some kind

of love

or hate

to make the living worth it.

I could do anything.

The day has just


You And You

In the darkness

In the night time

You can see yourself,

Alone, without the filter

Of other feelings and opinions

To colour you or taint you

Or paint you in a way

You would not recognise.

You can see yourself

In the dark.

There is only

You and you

And you cannot hide

From yourself.

What you know of you

Nobody else

Can ever know.

All of the bad things

The sins

Everything you’ve done wrong

Are known only to you.

Forget them.

Let them go.

They are done.

You can be a better you

From here on.

You have been

Better than you know.

Only you and you

Can change you.

Only I and I

Know how.