Thursday, August 23, 2012

you are me i am you

you are me i am you

Thursday, August 23, 2012 at 12:20am ·
Be with me-
Be with me now please-
come on-
close the door-
shut the curtains-
be with me-
in my darkness-
in my small hours-
in my nightmares in my in my-
be with me in my-
sweaty clothes in my-
unworthy thoughts-
don't avert your eyes don't leave-
don't turn on the television-
don't check your phone-
just sit-
sit with me in-
in my box-
in my cage my dirty tissues
my running-
my standing still-
be with me in this room-
too small room-
my low ceilings -
my crumblings my peeling-
my fading- no no!-
be with me in my tunnelling-
must get out!
in my stagnation in my nowhere
in my going nowhere-
in my sickness-
no! no! don't be the cure
no no - hold the vigil
light the candle, sing the song
no no no no no
be with me in my chest-of-knives
be with me in my cowering
my fear, my jealousy my
be with me in my scars
no sorry sorry no
be with me now where I am
no escapes and no beginnings
don't even crack the window
be my proof
no no no
be my witness
see me see me
the kind of world the world
doesn't want to see
bury yourself
no no no
bury yourself with me
velvet, soft like a coffin
stay with me
no no no no
must get out
stay with me
until you are me
and I am you
and you are locked
and I am free

Thursday, August 09, 2012

End Station

First free-write in ages... Need to get back into the habit of doing it weekly as I first intended (part of my 'Free-Write Wednesdays group on facebook'). It's a good way to keep my courage up and stay in the habit of sharing. An antidote to all the creative hoarding that's become my specialty (piles of metaphorical decade-old mind junk piled up to the ceiling.) I would appreciate any feedback I might have.
I was listening to this when I wrote it.  Check it out.


People get off
people get on
train speeds blind towards end station
we sit in dumb acceptance
of the technology
hurtling us forward
we read quietly
we chew over more immediate concerns

but moments
when reality separates
when you, through tired human eyes
steal a glimpse of sweetness
near terrible

hugs exchanged between children
man opposite reading a newspaper
he is somebodys boy

a heaviness in the chest more
honest than sentiment
an awareness - in your crossed legs
in the roots of your hair
in the noise of the underground
blood knowledge that
everyone is born
and everyone will die
between those
a heady constellation of
thoughts and practices

all these bodies - fragrant - churning
growing , degenerating
renewing themselves in
the bridge of smiles
the bridge of tears - the bridge of gazes
and knees touching
empathetic shrug and grin

sometimes - sometimes
we are doors left open to each other
we glimpse the uncleared kitchen table - coffee stains
and bills
and all the paraphernalia
of a repetitive yet
uncertain life
the train speeds blind toward it's destination
we sit in dumb acceptance of the miracle of technology
reading quietly
chewing over more immediate concerns