Footsteps on the stairs,
a reminder of what was to come.
Remembering times with the one you loved,
love, live with and love
as a ghost.
Feeling the warmth from
a favourite spot now your spot.
Rewinding, repeating, replaying memories
of the way she moved, the shape of her, her
warm breath on your neck.
I love him, yet I’m am curtailed at every turn.
I love him, yet I’m a prisoner in this house.
I loved him, then threw the kettle in the bin.
I loved him, then he said no open windows.
I left him, to curtail my love and my heart.
I left him, to find the person I once was.
A kiss on the forehead,
I know you’ll miss me.
A hug for so long,
I know I’ll miss you.
A way of saying everything,
yet saying nothing at all.
I long for you to tell me you’ll
be home for good, always.
A wild heart who loves the sea,
probably even more than you love me.
I know your heart isn’t perfect,
yet my heart’s the same,
A call came when it was all dark;
they called to say you had gone today.
I know deep down the sea would take you,
yet I never thought I’d have to say Pahimakas
Dreaming of the way her hills of green surround me, how her waters flow, that flower on Mum’s brooch.
That bonnie lass kissed me, and I was in love until I backed off and left her standing still, crying like an angel.
A bloody git with no love to give; I sit on park benches wishing for a bit of ‘The Guard’ treatment once a week.
The lassies don’t love an old cock, so I use face paint on me face to enhance my features, but it don’t help.
To think I feel ancient at 30! Not even Belle and Sebastian can save me ass, as she’s getting married today.
I swore I’d pop over, stand up like Elton John wanted to, and say I love you babe and I wanna kiss the bride, yeah!
Her vagina is for him now, so I can’t be taking a vagina that’s been freely given in the pleasures of consensual coitus.
I’m shite at love, yet there’s always hope in the valleys and the Loches that are 21st-century ladies and lassies.
Don’t get me wrong, I ain’t a sheep shagger; I just didn’t know love when it bit me or hit me between the eyes.
Speaking of the devil, there’s a lassie coming my way. Could it be her? No. Yet she’s like strawberries and cream; I might have a tub.
To sit, watching the sky change
from blue, grey, sunflower yellow,
to pink, indigo, darker colours.
To wonder, thinking of your love,
the tempo of your heart,
from blue, green to indigo, black.
To love, without fear of tongues
moving like the wind,
moving until seeds grow darker.
To think, after nineteen years
your heart, my heart,
they feel the same,
they love in many colours, shades.
To feel, physical movements,
as our trunks, branches,
leaves intertwine until the light fades.
After many years of love the bow broke,
then the music of love stopped playing;
we began to drift apart and separate.
Littered among the remains of
the two of us
are the ashes of music instruments.
All the music we played for each other
is now burnt
to the ashes on the floor of our parting.
Soft colours play in the light,
her figure once so near to me.
Scattered sunlight plays my heart,
her figure vanishes from my sight.
So near to my younger skin –
now, I’m so old.
I stand in the Satie sounds –
no longer young.
You fly into the blue
Another journey to somewhere
while I remain nowhere
As you fly into the blue
An engine gives a cough
The cargo bounces about
You text me of love
A strange message from you
I text back words of love
They say the plane crashed slow
Hundreds of lives frozen in terror
My heart broke into love shards
You died in that crash
Going into the green
As it rained falling fruit
Painting by Mercedes Granel, “Falling Fruit.”
Warmth from the fire
We sit in woollen slippers
Watching the day fall away
Baked bread, butter and honey
Biscuits with cup and saucer tea
Baking ourselves in warmth all-day
Rusty razor blades sitting in the bin,
hairbrushes and combes laying loose.
Bathroom items lounging about,
something fluffy is stuck to the floor.
Empty plastic bottles and bits sit still,
dirty laundry piles up even higher.
Packets of surfboards hide from sight,
sex toys blush quietly contemplating life.
The drain gurgles about your love life;
the trappings of love have found you both –
as you fleece each other with the tweezers.