Tag Archives: love

Calmer Sutra

The house clicks and creaks as things

warm or cool, just like our

old bones crack and growl like

icebergs calving as we try to

contort our recalcitrant bodies into

The Beast with Two Bad Backs.

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Anaesthesia

We so anaesthetize dying that

family and friends may as well be at a

pre-Funeral, unable to touch and

talk, reminisce and laugh through

what might be pain but may

also be love’s last kiss,

abolishing last words

famous or not.

A Simple Act

After so long of course you can

irritate sometimes just as I can be

your irritant but today we met

one of the two pearls that are

products of our joint irritants and later

walking London’s sticky streets we

made each other laugh and

forget the press of problems by the

simple act of holding hands.

Hearts

My heart goes out to hearts

caught in branches on a cold night;

caught waiting on a

street corner for a

car that won’t come; caught

watching the ice melt in a

bought drink that will

never be drunk; caught between

transplants not knowing which

soul to beat for; caught

hoping, caught dreaming;

caught in the act of

catching cold.

Knowledge

When, at last, I didn’t know her,
when that last thin
thread of memory
snapped, loosing the catch of
forty years of intimate knowledge to
slap and slipper on the hull,
no longer knowing me she gave that same
sweet, shy smile that once made me
so much want to know her.

The Lost Thing

The search for the lost thing turns the

house upside down: drawers are

tipped out, bins rifled to their

mucky depths, papers

stupidly shaken; every step taken

retaken, reconsidered, was it

lost then? was it there when

that happened? Then, usually, the

lost thing turns up where it

always was and we laugh at our

forgetfulness, ignoring the

upside-down house and all the other

lost things within it.

Amor Vincit Omnia?

We want love to be the

centrifuge of life, spinning the

scoria into oblivion, leaving

only purity behind, but

design flaws, outages, our

inability to follow the

simplest instructions means the

shit keeps seeping back into the

autoclaves of our hearts,

spoiling everything.

Red Sex

There’s no need to blush when

we turn the mattress darling, for

how much blood has your body spent

in all our years together?

How many nights have you pressed your

aching belly against my back?

Truly live with a woman and

you will know blood,

that leak that bespeaks the fertility that twice

turned me inside out and right way up.

So don’t blush at a love which is

more than mattress-deep.

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