Wednesday, June 22, 2016


That was a different life,
Waiting for the pain that never came.
This one is knowing, not wiser,
Richer, yet poorer,
Bristling with forgotten dreams,
That cut your fingers.

Crisply the miasma envelopes you, your regular jailor,
Stomping through his nocturnal rounds.
You look up to the sodium light,
Orange bright,
Your heart says take flight.

A joke, a laugh,
A silly tale, to distract,
Anything will do,
To lighten this shade of deep blue.

You pray for the strength to be yourself,
You pray to hold that precious love close,
You pray for the night to end with chirping birds
You pray for grass and sky to be there in the dawning.

Tuesday, June 07, 2016


You are breathing through a plastic tube
Sighing softly as I talk stutteringly to you

Oblivious of my remorse
Of the profit and the loss
Of your own joys forsaken and emotional costs
Of internal seas wracked by emotions and tossed
Through this mundane world's churning
Lost moments, my desperate yearning
Oblivious of us stranded here
As you glide silently to a distant shore

My tears are pennies in a fountain for you
Hoping you're fine 'cos your spirit just flew
And I stumble on, shaky with resolve that's new
To be your son, and honour you true.


Sunday, May 04, 2014

Flashes of childhood,
Spent in play, fields and trees,
Or a white window sill,
Gazing at my mother on the street below.

Slivers of water on an urban pond,
Fishing or boating, quiet laughter,
Night embraces the tiled cafe,
And egg yolk runs slowly to touch  toast.

My friend's brown shoes, as he bowls in jeans,
The hush of a friendly audience
Gathered lazily on the lawn,
As the lights go down.

Different schools,
With different wise men and fools,
Walking to the first day of work,
After a bus and train ride, sweaty and unexpecting inside.

Eyeing apples at reception,
Always at the window looking out, looking in,
Love in its surreptitious forms,
Obsessive loyalty that obliterates norms.

Held down by an unexplained weight of sadness,
Help up by instants of laughter and madness,
Held to the dream that will not be crushed,
Held to account by time that will not be rushed.

An age I never dreamt of,
A place I never expected,
A body I never respected,
A mind that hasn't reflected.

Waiting on the shores for the wave to crash,
And for the light on the horizon,
I feel old and new,
Borrowed and used,
Broken, yet fused,
Nice, gentle and naughty,
30 days till 40.

Friday, April 04, 2014

No lightbulb flares,
No alarm bells jangle,
No telephone rings,
No Damocles' thingie dangles.

No parrot squawks,
No caged bird sings,
No kit of pigeons fly,
No death knell rings.

No glass shatters,
No thunder strikes,
No policeman whistles,
No smoke turns white.

Nothing is obvious,
Nothing is declared,
A small moment passes,
Passes, passes.....
And your heart is dismembered,
By the sweet engulfing
Nothingness of that moment.

Saturday, December 07, 2013

Rambles After 

Same old place,
Same old face,
New people making small talk,
New forces making me walk,
The end of the old road,
Understand, I tell you, the new code.

I can see but not hear you  talk to me,
Leave me alone, I'd rather be,
Sitting on my balcony,
Reading the history of the Shawnee.
Or anything but drinking with you,
Watching fools of different hues,
Shake their bodies as if they felt it,
Faking sincerely, as if they meant it.

The time is now,
But what, who, how,
Remain mysterious, serious,
Possibly deleterious,
This endangered species,
Is worth a few theses,
So tell me what you feel,
As the orange gets peeled,
And the layers get revealed,
And the wounds are left to heal.

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

Just out of reach

I thought I had it,
Felt it, smelt it,
Put my finger in its blood,
Heard the noise, felt the thud,
Ran through the powdery foam,
Climbed into the mourning gloom,
Saw the streaking shafts of a strange new day, Saw the dark-haired child with the dolls of clay.

The new is old, the old is retro,
Retro is how the youth will know,
About birth and death that define us,
Refine us, defile and deride us,
Mock us till the setting sun,
Til optimism is spent and emphatically done.

I thought I had it,
Felt it jingle in my head,
Like a needle pulling thread,
Through the labyrinths of my defeats,
Into the white steel resting the sheath.
I raise my sword and wander listless,
As my face grows its bristles,
The new day sulks into view,
And I still don't have the eagle's view.

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

On a pilgrimage

A few miles up the road
From the city glinting in the setting sun,
I drive slowly in this practical car,
Upon my impractical mission,
With my friends who will not fathom
Why this drive, at random,
But I am waiting for a glimpse that will suffice
Of the calm, composed, unforgotten one

These gentle roads she's travelled, often fast
These roads the master painted in my head
Once she drummed her fingers on a pillow
Making etchings in my heart
Adolescent longing didn't play a part,
Strangely sexless, like an admired photograph
Unattainable yet always the One.

Shhhhhhhhh whisper the tyres,
Along the silent roads where no one creeps,
And the city lights up beneath,
The road holds her secret, close and still.

I meander for an hour,
I get lost on purpose, searching to find my peace,
My friend spotted flowers and rubbish on the road,
I wonder if that's the fateful place,
And I still have no closure.

Rest, my memory,
Rest in peace,
There shall be no lese-majeste
As I hear the cruise ships far below
Their horns signal it's time to go
The medieval village is all aglow
The journey is not in vain
Better than finding her slain
By some ordinary rock or stone
In my head she's alive,
Smiling, laughing,
Smoothing her dress and getting ready to drive...

A line of lights in my mirror
A darkening coastline with unmindful evening diners
We descend gently to the beach
And my memory sings itself to sleep

Good night Angel,
Good night, the road,
Grace is preserved.
I have been here,
I have paid my respects,
She sleeps somewhere,
Protected by her rocky kingdom,
The bluest of blue seas,
And gulls skimming quietly.