I do believe I can feel it
Again at last
That slow trickle of words.
Pooling at the back of my skull
Where it hinges with the spine,
Welling up from below.
The upturned corner of a mouth.
The twinkle in an eye.
The slow ache of a lightly bitten lip…
So often inspiration doesn’t strike
Glides into the room
In a mist of moist matcha steam,
Traces her fingers up my spine,
Smooths out the shirt across my shoulders
And gently brushes my hair back
As she leans in
For a gentle kiss.
I didn’t want it to happen again.
No, please, not again.
But at this stage
It’s almost inevitable.
The fist plunges,
The fingers uncurl and stretch,
But the grip has slipped already.
Male voices sing
In 5 part close harmony
Of cacti and angels,
Their words slick auf Deutsch
As I imagine I can feel
The ever faster beating
Of your heart
Through the leg of your jeans and the
Few inches of warm air between our knees.
Take out the bag of oft-worn clown makeup.
Draw a smile on my bald downturned head.
Stamp your foot in the dust and howl.
I’m in the dark again
But for the faint light
of the stars.
So much harder this time
Than even before
To leave you
And rise up through the
Late early summer air
Thick with watery pollens
In search of dulcet cow bells,
Hills and music.
In my nostrils.
The ache of your skin
Has lodged itself in
The nail beds of my fingers
And the crevices
At the edges of my eyes.
The sky lit up in the distance,
Striking the ground
with silent hammer blows.
And I could see your face,
Lip bit and upturned
In the darkness,
Across the land
And across the sea
And across the night.
Through the dark Swiss night
The fingers of my mind
Stretch out to caress you
From your little magpie nest.
Though it is cold, I am
Warm without cares.
You light such fires in me
That threaten to burn
Unhindered and wild in my chest.
For so many days I had thought
Ill of this entanglement of hearts,
This engagement of my will.
It threatened to undo me.
But now I realise it was all folly
And foolishness of my heart.
For you are the one I see when I
Close my eyes to the darkness
And your face is all I wish to see
Upon my waking.
Because I fell asleep
With the window open
Waiting for you
I am now covered in
Hundreds of little,
Itchy bug bites.
I’m scritching and a-scratching!
I think I am
In love with you.
When it comes to you
The words come rushing up
Bubbling so easily from below
Like natural springs of
Crisp, cool mountain water.
So many colours and images
Interweave in a myriad of shimmering symbols
From all the languages I have ever known.
Soft, delicate words.
Ferocious, powerful words.
Simple, sorrowful words.
Gentle, loving words.
Words I have never even heard.
Phrases clutter the back-passages
And corridors of my mind.
They slink about, beautiful and subtle,
With wry little smiles on their faces.
They shake hands with grinning similes,
High five the odd beaming metaphor.
They spin along in large open topped cars
Up and down the 6 lane highway
Between my head and my heart.
But none of them is ready.
Not one of them is quite
Not for you.
I have avoided my heart for so long
But with you it’s so easy.
I don’t have to second guess myself.
The pages of the books roll open
Coloured in ever brighter shades,
A rich melted green the most vivid.
At night I close my eyes
And dream of you
And in the morning
You are still there.
On the train from Les Laumes,
Rushing backwards away from you,
I can feel my heart stretch out
Like elastic. The pull grows stronger.
We fly past lakes and highways.
The greens of a forest brush by.
Trills of your smile shimmer
In the window’s reflection.
I had been waiting for love.
Staying up nights expecting
A knock at the front door,
The hesitant mumble.
I had prepared slippers.
A favourite mug sitting ready
For a pair of gentle outstretched hands.
You push a strand of your
Peacock hair back over your ear
and laugh at my jokes.
You’re so beautifully quiet.
What I had learned of love’s face
I studied in flickering movie screens.
And what I knew of her devious ways
Only through the experience of others.
You smile and keep your mouth shut.
We may all wait for love
But we cannot wait forever.
This circular symmetry of notes
Makes me think about kissing you.
Leaning down to your still sleeping face
To steal a gentle one before
I make my way out in to the world.
Angelically pale. Make up still wet.
Your lipstick tastes waxy
But sweet indeed from these lips.
The ghost of you keeps me company through the day,
Leaping from chair to chair like a child Avoiding imaginary lava or hissing snakes.
Peeking over my shoulder to see me write my name for the thousandth time
You push my hair back over my ear.
In your sleep you wrinkle your nose
And your fringe falls low over your eyes.
The circles of my days
Begin and end with you.
And at night I dream.
I don’t have the words for you yet
But when I do they will be glorious
And subtle and sweet and alluring
And full of depth.
And people will dozely mumble them
On the train in the morning on their way to work.
And the birds will whistle out their melody in that way birds will.
And the gentle grumbling of engines in the distance will murmur it’s agreement.
But I will rest safe in the knowledge
That I could never sum you up.