Lachrymose

Desolate heart,
Sharp cactus needles protect you
On the one hand,
On the other they pierce you
And a blue world weeps through
To infuse you with melancholic
Ablutions and rituals
In savannah lemongrass.

Avoid generalisations,
Exaggerations and
Residual absolutes,
Plaster the holes in the sky
Perforated by two statues’ crowns
Where an impossibly white sky
Drips like a dose of milk
And gives birth to the word
Lachrymose.

For all things in
This realm remain
Within a constant knot,
Of what is possible
Tied to its same self
By what it is not.

Innings

All this time I’ve been sinning,

an unknown will was winning
I wreathe my own self with regret.

It was ever this way, beginning
To end, where the word innings
Is used by Englishmen in debt

To euphemisms, tongue-pinning;
Now their relevance is thinning,
Notes on a plummeting language.

When they say ‘ he had a good innings‘,
This means dutybound death’s spinning
Through the roof of our anguish.

Yellowfin bellies, sashimi de-finning,
Abbatoir beating-belts are skinning
But sin is how I’m scarred by a knife.

All this time, ever since my sinning,
That devil down there may be grinning,
My inheritance is only my life.


Someone Else’s Song

I heard the end of your song
Before you finished singing;

I found the end of my life
Before I finished living.

Now I’ve been singing someone’s song,
Their words in my mouth, verbatim,

And over time their phrases replaced
Everything I had forsaken;

Routed out, vicarious mouth,
Only my soul’s voice was not taken.

Little Mjölnir

A hammer I found
On a tall mound of earth,

Only man-made,
So little like Thor’s.

I swung it at mountains
Of old washing up,

I heaved through the trees
Of ancestors lost.

The townspeople laughed
As I toiled and I huffed,

Its handle unvarnished,
Its corners were scuffed.

Look at him missing,
They sang and they coughed,

But they couldn’t see
The meaning of moths,

Shattered my ego,
Departing the docks.

The Coast Of Devotion

A part of my curse,
Inculcated, in marrow,
Nearing kingdoms of self
A wider gulf narrows.

I’m rebuffed, beaten back,
By bluffs from sea-sparrows,
Fall from a deck
On to self-tinctured arrows.

Where you are on green,
I’m red at the light;
When I dreamt I was falling
You stood through the night.

I expect this will pass,
For the future’s in sight,
Where I can’t compete
With gifts in your life.

A future sea-faring
In circular motions,
Just out of reach
From shores of devotion.

When all is extinguished
Find new attuned heights,
Blessed by Love’s arms,
Devoid of the night.