Disembark

“There would never be a place where that would feel like home to me.” She said, her hands trembling as she tried to keep herself under control. He looked away, and at that point she knew his decision had been made. Her heart sealed itself in that moment, covering up in a sheath of self-protection she had learned from when she was young.

“You could be happy there Simone, you have tomorrow to unfold and your dreams to come alive. Don’t place your happiness at my feet”.

“Not when they’re walking over me.” She said.

“Don’t be this way. I told you from the start I was leaving, I made you no promise.” He said, a little more determined now after her petulant remark. He didn’t want the hurt to be there, he didn’t want it to show. The pain he was causing, he was happy to ignore if he couldn’t see it; cover it up and sweep it away like the good intentions he’d had. Those intentions were always to live in the moment and not dwell on the future too much. But Simone needed that security of tomorrow. She needed to know he would be there, not just when she needed him, but even when she didn’t. A static presence in her life, like a lock on her door to keep her safe.

“I’m sorry, if that means anything to you.” He said, and her eyes bore into him. Scanning his conscience like a metal detector, sniffing out a lie.

“I think you believe that.” she said, and her tears began to drip out of her eyes, lifting off in the zero gravity. Floating out into the planet’s green atmosphere. She was hoping this day would never really come, but when it did, he would change his mind. He would see the love they had, and the love she had for him and stay. Push away all the pullings of the other life and reasonings of leaving and just stay. Be with her and let them carve a life out together. A part of her knew he never would, but she had wished and prayed and begged for it be different. She had read in a book once that she could change her fate. What she didn’t realise was that sometimes you got what you needed, not what you wanted.

As he went to kiss her, she pulled away. The moment hung like Christmas decorations in January, gaudy and out of place in the grey. He turned, but all she could see was the blurry colours of him departing as the tears bubbled in her eyes and she wept at her loss. A pain that quickly stabbed and settled within her as his rocket left forever.

Metempsychosis process

Stop the clocks and burn the books.
Too many reasons and motives.
Give me something I can now believe in.
To peel off my bones and to rest upon my heart.
Take us back to the start.
Gather up the pieces of the broken.
Pulled down marbled statues of the gods of ourselves.
Diminish and restore. Re-surge and adore.
The tiny copper heart. The china cupped girl.
Things that can be stored in the cupboard of god.
Sprinkled with spice and the nectar of the familiar.
Don’t talk to me now of being alone.
Hold the tongue that speaks of a frozen heart.
Thaw on my brain and melt into mecca.
A shiny version of you.

Dusk of the innocent

They didn’t see it coming.
Always bouncing on to something else.
Ignoring the ghosts in their eyes, or the oncoming headlights.
Those April days of innocence.
Flying over schools and mountain tops.
Elasticated minds skimming the Tokyo suburbs.
Never finding time to hear what love sounded like.
Letting it all fall away like a crumbling cliff, on the sea of something.
Were you ever sure what you fought for?
Always in the eye of the storm of your halcyon hurricane.
When April faded to December, what do you cling to now?
Freeze dried promises that never seem to thaw.
Mislabelled and mumbling that nothing seems clear.
Only the icy ground beneath, forcing you in that straight line.
Towards you losing yourself.
And lowering into soil.
Could you ever tell who liked you? Did you ever really care?
Needling the hay to make way for a forgotten tomorrow.
Singing into the dusk of the innocents.

Something for the weekend

Looking for something to do this weekend? Don’t forget, Echoes in Space: Cosmically collapsing poetry is out now in eBook format. Click here to get yours today and spend the weekend wrapped in stars and decaying words.

Looking for something to do next weekend? Don’t forget, Echoes in Space: Cosmically collapsing poetry is out now in paperback. Click here to get yours in the next few days and spend the following weekend wrapped in the celestial bodies and wandering words.

(‘Echoes in space’ is available worldwide…follow your regional amazon moon rabbit.)

For those who have been kind enough to download this already, may I encourage you to write a review on Amazon and Goodreads to spread the word.

Thank you. Here are some freebies:

SHINE

Crushed to Diamond dust.
Inhaled in the right light.
When the moon is bright.
Deep into your vines I travel.
Filling your soul with stars.

 

You stopped the rain

What becomes of all of us?
Down in the depths, floating on the sea of time.
Who pulls us back? Who throws the ropes of salvation?
She dwelled long and lonely under the waves.
Wrinkling into memory as the salt clogged her bones.
But the dreams wouldn’t fade like a dying star.
The hope threaded around her heart like roots of a tree.
New lips breathed the life back into her.
Tomorrow’s soul and eternity’s hand.
Raised her from her watery grave.
Covering her in love and picking away the scabs of sorrow.
She smiled and laughed as they ignited within the pilot fire.
Which shifted fate, and scared the fish.

Kiss me like a stranger

How long had she been driving? The sky above her was threatening the night, while bullet lights of passing cars pierced her eyes. She had left that morning, surprised by so many things that were happening, but no longer surprised by being surprised.

She had packed up things so quickly. Everything swept away with such ease she felt she could be erased from life in a blink of an eye and no-one would notice, no one would care. A part of her doubted she would even go through with it. But down the highway heading out away from town she smiled to herself, a scared secret smile that she was doing the right thing. Not the best thing, this would not make her instantly happy or even make the pain stop. But it was the right thing to do.

She yawned theatrically, and pushed her hair back catching her nail in some of the strands. She opened the car window for the cool air to wake her up a little. Her phone had been switched off since she’d left, she knew there would be endless calls and texts until she was located; talked around and called back. She was happy to silence that. The radio rang out, lifting her spirits as the night closed in on that highway which was getting more isolated. The lights in the distance were getting further apart and she knew she was hitting the ‘Quietlands’, the stretch of road that coursed through a mini desert with nothing of interest on either side of her.

She was getting tired, and she was hot still, even as the day’s heat descended. She felt grubby and sweaty, her back sticking to the seat of the car as she zoomed away from her past. She knew her destination. She had had it planned and etched I her mind for years now. She knew which road to take and how long it would be until she got there, and she planned to drive through the night to make it.  Her eyes were getting heavy though. The lids dropping like a shutter to a store closing for the night.

She took a right turn down a road she knew was wrong almost instantly. The silent highway tarmac gave way to a rough dirt track which snaked around the cactus and mounds of earth. She stopped suddenly, releasing she had gone wrong and put the car in reverse when he spotted some dim lights up ahead. They weren’t moving, and she guessed they were pulled to the side of the road. What a shitty place to break down she thought and put the car into gear and drove slowly up to where the other one was parked.

She pulled alongside the car, which she noticed too was the same model as her own. At least she might be able to help fix it, her own car had given her quite a few problems over the years, and she always carried a spare of everything. The sun had disappeared over the horizon now with the slither of light hanging on to the blue black sky. Though the lights were on, she couldn’t see anyone at first.

“Hello?” She called out, though the open window of her car.

It was then she appeared.

She floated as if on a sea of crimson, her red dress puncturing the sandy track like blood slashed across flesh. She came from the bushes, her hair immaculate with a faraway look in her eye. Jessie was a little taken aback, but she called out again; assuming she had not heard her as she had not replied.

“Hello, do you need some help.”

The woman smiled and carried on over to her car where she knelt on the wound down window.

“Hey. What’s up?” She said, as if meeting on old friend.

Jessie looked at her through the dying light of the day, framed in her car’s window pain. She was everything she had wanted to be once. She looked immaculate, like she was stepping out onto the town. She wore a confidence that married her friendliness well, the two playing out for the audience of anyone.

“Do you need help, is your car broken down?” Jessie asked, smiling encouragingly.

“That piece of shit? It’s old, but it’s working.” The woman replied, giving Jessie the once over.
“Oh, I thought you might be in some sort of trouble?” Jessie asked, making it a question.

“Trouble?” the woman asked curiously, and laughed a little. And with that she turned around and walked back to her car.

Jessie watched her, momentarily unsure of what to do. She then suddenly felt the urge to get out of her own car. She unbuckled her seatbelt and climbed out of her dusty machine which whirled and deflated after the long hot day.

“What’s your name?” The woman asked her, as if beckoning her over. Jessie made her way over to the car, the same colour as her own yet caked in dirt as if it had emerged up out of the sand.

“Jessie, how about you?” She replied. The woman had jumped up onto the bonnet now, sitting upon it like a kid.

“Where you heading?” she replied, avoiding the question. Though Jessie didn’t feel any danger, she didn’t want to tell anyone where she was headed. She knew once the world knew, it would throw up things to pull her back. Back to the life she never had wanted to live from the start.

“A long way away. Listen, if you do need any help, I’m happy to assist.” Jessie said, listening to the desert around them open to the twilight.

“You running away?” She asked suddenly.

“No.” Jessie replied defiantly. She saw something then flash in front of the woman’s eyes. The same defiance that twisted and churned in her own belly. “No. I’m making some changes for the better is all.” She added.

“What’s so bad that you’re leaving behind?” She asked.

“Urm…listen, if you don’t mind. I need to get going. So if you do need any help, please say.” Jessie said, politely but firmly. She was always one to go along with what people said and wanted, but she was indeed trying to make some changes in her life and now was a good time as any.

The woman cast her eyes down to the ground, while she toyed with the sunglasses she had in hand. As if finding what she was looking for there, she looked up at Jessie.

“Is it Jack?” The woman asked suddenly. Flaring her eyes. Jessie glared at her, not sure of what was happening.

“What?” she asked, a slither of understanding falling down from the sky.

“Or is it slowly seeing the dream you dreamt back when you were only twelve, wither and die like everything out here. Cooked and charred in the sun until it blows away into time?” She said.

Jessie stared at her, sensing something familiar. She looked at the car, the licence plate covered up in dust and dirt. She looked quickly into the passenger seat, spotting a duffle bag and vanity case.

Suddenly the woman jumped off of the bonnet and came towards her, grabbing her face and kissing her quickly on the mouth. Jessie couldn’t help it, but she closed her eyes; tasting the watermelon lips and feeling the hazy intensity. She pulled her in close, cocooning her away from the world in a moment where all made sense to her. Her mind flashed back to her old house, the smell of takeaways and the cheap cologne.

They parted as suddenly as they begun, Jessie knew then what she needed to do. She dropped to the floor and grabbed the largest stone she could find. Picking it up, she launched it over and over again into the woman’s skull, battering her down into a scarlet pulp that matched the inappropriate dress she was wearing. She threw the rock off into the buses near to where the other car was parked and then returned to her own. Her hands were shaking, and blood smeared onto the steering wheel as she turned it around and sped off back towards the main road. As she glanced in her rear-view mirror, she noticed the headlights of the other car had faded, snubbed out like the life of the woman who now lay in the dirt, beaten and crumpled and gone from this world.

When Jessie got to the main road, she turned right, accelerating hard into the direction she had been heading before.

After a few miles, the blood on the steering wheel had faded away and her breathing had now returned to normal. She reached over to her own small bag she had on the front seat and took out her lipstick. She smeared the scarlet shade across her lips, puckering in the mirror as she sped off into the night. Determined more than ever to get away, and to get to the place she had planned to in her dreams for years. Not looking back once.

Shift kiss

Take your hand off your eyes. See the sky above ignite.
Do not fall down into that soily grave alone.
Holding the hands of no-one.
Let the universe pulse in your veins.
Feel a fresh kiss of heroin as you save a life.
Save your own.
Communicate and reverberate this feeling.
Coursing and freewheeling.
Tumbling off of each kiss you give.
Each smile that slips into the dark.
To light the shadows like roman candles.
Let your galaxy slide into view.
Forget the hue of distrust and knee jerk distaste.
Taste me now. Let me in.
Strip way that cotton shell you’re living in.
Drink. Dive. Repeat.
Do not even give it a name.
Feel the ebb and flow as the old world shatters.
Sink into a sunbeam, radiating a love for everyone.
A neighbour, a lover.
A god in another skin.
Look within.

Halfway there

Simple words have a lot to say.
Like the break between heartbeats.
Like waves hitting the sand.
To swim or drown in your fiery light.
You cover your eyes with intent. Stealing the beauty away.
Keep us trapped.
Keep us safe.
Locked into your skin like DNA.
Longing after life’s mystery.
Build the pyre from your bones and burn me inside out.
Collapse into your cells.
Tasting sweat and love with each gulp of air.
Here is where I want to end.

A Place in the stars

(Not part of, but in conjunction with ‘Echoes in space’)

Lots of people were afraid. Rationale and irrational fears grew like ivy in the cluttered world he lived in. As Jerimiah grew up, he found fear was just a pat of life. His sister had always been afraid of spiders. Snakes too, though spiders were a more every day hazard, bringing out an alarming response from her no matter who was around. He never forgot the day she found one in her bed when she was going to sleep, the screams had echoed down into the street making the dogs in the neighbour’s yard bark. They had shared a bedroom in the old house then, out of necessity more than anything else. It wasn’t until he was five years old that he had a room of his own. Of course, this came with the collapse of his parent’s marriage and he would have traded in a second the large bedroom at his father’s house, for the pokey one he shared with his sister. At least that way they would still be together. But people, like marriages collapse. His sister departing only a year into his larger bedroom life, not from a spider attack, but from the leukaemia that had corroded her from the inside.

Jerimiah was afraid of one thing, and one thing only. He was afraid of time. How it snuck in on him and those he loved. Snatching away those things, and people he held dear. Turning, tumbling and changing his little world that he would want to keep secret and safe under a bell jar. He would look up into the night’s sky and see the stars blinkering above him. Fixed into position like reliable Christmas lights, always there like the season, waiting to bring joy. It wasn’t until he was much older that he learned the true nature of space. The twirling chaos that attacked the cosmos, with everything in flux. But for that six year boy within him still, he would always see safety and security in the stars. His friends that were always there like jewels in black cement.

Jerimiah though was understanding about people’s fears. He understood why his sister had been afraid of spiders. How her mind would run with a thousand possibilities of what could happen, and the deathly mist that surrounded them and the poisonousness possibilities. Much like he understood people’s fear of flying. He had met an old lady on a flight to Rome once before, sitting in the aisle seat next to him. She was so afraid, her white knuckles had gripped onto the armrest for the duration of the flight, her eyes closed as if in silent prayer to keep her aloft, and to land safely in the eternal city. He had wondered what she was so desperate to live for, what in her life was she so afraid of losing. One’s death being usually a horrible climax of pain and distress, but momentary. What was she so afraid of not completing? What had her life really been about?

He had sat there himself on that small plane, thousands of miles above the French Alps, watching the snow-capped peaks shimmering in the sun. If they were to descend; collapse in a fiery demise and be strewn in wreckage across the snowy landscape, what was he missing out on? What in his life was he left to accomplish or leave behind? He would be missed of course. His partner would be distraught, and tears would be shed. But life would go on, time would cover the hurt up in sand and silence. Changing once more the nature of things.

Time. His biggest enemy.

He had landed in Rome safe and sound, the flight not having crashed like many unfortunate others had. He had quit is job that very day, enjoying a nice little holiday there instead of the work he had come there to do.

If he had known he were to die at the age of thirty three, Jerimiah would probably not have done things much different than he had. He would most likely have avoided a lot more arguments. Those stupid back and forths with people over things that mean nothing to wider universe. He knew time was always against him, under his feet like an escalator he couldn’t stop or slow down. In this way, he lived a full life. He understood the preciousness and fragility of life. He squeezed his partner a bit more when they hugged and kissed. He meant it more when he said I love you. Perfection was not to be a part of his existence on earth, yet Jerimiah saw the bigger picture. It was all a blink in the eye of God, and he knew he had no time to waste.

When at thirty three, he reached the top of the escalator, he glanced over the side to see how far he’d come. It all looked so small and crushable from his vantage point. He was alone, but he wasn’t sad. He could see his friends glittering their celestial magic as diamonds across the inky black. Their luminosity radiant and strong like a million burning suns. And he took his place in the stars, content and happy that the clocks had finally stopped ticking.

Fault line

Splinters, tiny like veins in ice.
Creaking and cracking across my horizon.
To separate and crumble, down into the abyss.
Laying cold and motionless on the ocean floor.
The day the sunlight faded, dissolved into grey and boxed away.
A fault line, hidden underfoot. Covered by history and ignorance of the contented.
The earth did shake and quake, and the heavens above did tremble.
Collapsing time and rushing into the static notion of now.
Will you find me covered in shells?
Petrified and turning to oil before your eyes?
Dig away these bones all hollowed like the tooth of time.
Riddle with corrosion like a pickled heart in a jar.
The faults within took hold of me.
Crashed my soul against the tidal wall of life.
Broke the sins that were carried heavily on my back.
Dragged back to the moon on the ocean tide.

Spider webs trapped the sun

In her room where the lamps flicker.
Within the corners, like those in her mind.
A devil does sit. A demon does wait.
Clicking tongues and painting her red.
She pulls away from this earth.
Disconnecting the gossamer thread that keeps her fire a flame.
Pulling her teeth out to give them something they needed.
A token for her pound of flesh.
She clipped her own wings so stay.
Only once, yet she lives with that decision.
Tarred and feathered in her dance of the daisies.
Each one waiting to be plucked.
So when the night draws in and those devils shift their feet.
Around her heart a deathly mist doth coil.
Unprotected.
Dangerously defeated.
Flashing her years before her like signs on a road.
Too late to turn back.
Too late to change the destination.

Matter/shatter

If we’re talking
about hope.
These simple things should matter.
We are matter.
We are blood.
We are all wet underneath.
Which skin matters?
This one cuts. This life shatters.
03.47; call my name.
Blur and hum.
You see it in my eyes.
I’m not ashamed,
to say.
That all the Gods drip down the same.
And enter our purple veins.
Which one is better?
We are all
fragile.
Please handle with care.
And stare,
and care.
For their heart is on your hand.
Precious matter.
Jehovah or Allah.
Peace be upon us.

Remembering myself

These days wash through me like the rain.
As this greying world fades.
Earth descending. Blurring off on the horizon.
The winter chill lingers over my future like an old man’s grip.
Choking me into anonymity.
Freezing the hope in my lungs.
How many times must I travel to the lighthouse?
Climbing the rocks that make my feet and heart bleed.
Insurmountable despondency. Wrapped in a sold version of existence.
The reins and remains of the day fall loose in my palm.
Sweating in the fear of losing all I have, and all I will ever be.
Clocking the years as they hurry through me like ghosts on a train.
Feeling like a stranger in my own life.

Sleep will wait

And all these little thoughts, the ones that take you away;
will rest on my shoulders, like your head full of flowers.
Heavy and soft.
Those airplane moments, in transit between these states.
Will come down in time, and wait.
Rose coloured sheets, and trouble ahead the neon threatens.
Unless I’m me. Unless this is us.
Safe and worth coming home to.
Such original sensualities. Laughing over sexuality.
Kisses over cornflakes and coffee cups.
If you need time, I don’t mind. I like where this is heading.
Risking, and whisking me away as you hold onto this.
Tied up in ribbons of joy that we walk between, as we walk over;
sheets of snow and sun kissed wonder.
Goodbye foolish fear. So long picesaen uncertainty.
Adieu gemini fairy tales done before.
Take my hand and dance with me on the tip of this strange lunar day,
flying high above the earth in black feathers.
A place which we must return but where sleep can wait.

Build me a coffin

We never let tomorrow in, as we ricochet between now and then.
Climbing the mountain each day, never taking the leap.
Of faith.
In the dark.
Holding on to the dying heart.
That beats for the decay.
I want to crawl my fingers to the sunlight.
Drop these excuses which weigh me down.
If not now, then when?
Building a coffin for this dying friend.
This soul I’ve exhausted and run into the ground.
Outgrown and exploited.
Let me howl at the moon in its crumbling position.
Clinging to the last breath.
This static disposition.
My mouth wants new dreams to sink into.
My soul needs to take flight on different wings.
Lay my old self down in the ground. Mark this place.
A memory of the lost and found. Not to be forgotten.
Tomorrow waits for no-one. It’s running at the speed of life.
My blood is stinging now with love and adrenaline.
Pushing me forward to the amazing unknown.
Out of these four walls.
Out of the space.
Crashing into the future with a smile that says ‘lead, don’t follow’.

Breathe & beat

In a day I walk around the sun.
I trip over you, sleeping on the stars.
Waking you from such magical dreams.
The rays of light burn away my sadness.
The glue of imperfection that held me together.
You smile and promise such freedom.
All I need do, is take your hand and step into now.
But I hesitate.
I quiver.
Grown accustom to these prison walls.
So you pull me through space, gripped like a talon.
Pulling me tight, telling me to hold on.
As your pour gold into my skull.
Lifting me to the surface.
To breathe again, and be.

Cotton

My feet hurry the ground, and the soil gives way.
Waking to find you next to me. Wrapped up against the world.
We move in emotions, wandering the streets and taking trains to anywhere.
The fabric fantasy of space and love, as we disappear completely.
Plunging through clouds, walking on cotton. The skyline shifts and all glass shatters.
My world is safe, my world is soft.
Feather light and filtered, expunging the dirt of life.
You take my hand, feeling for my pulse with your textile touch.
Feeling further into my soul while the sun and rain pours down upon us.
Umbrellas by the lake and warmness in my heart.
I could live here forever, lost in the gossamer threads of now.
Washed into the white existence of your love.
Then you spill ink over my world.
Staining, seeping and leaking through.
Destroying the pure white fabric of my dream that anything had changed.