Excoriate

Do not throw anger
back at your other
unless you are ready
to stoke their ire –
redoubled surelye
by your avoiding eye?

Do not find focus
by pin-pricked pain –
held in narrow
concentrations –
unbroken – then set
to scorch again

Your steady point
of magnified aims –
that glass you do not
use to explain –
instead is held
to summon a flame

Do not mark your other’s
yet burnt skin
with borrowed light –
such scarring
will not fade
with time’s passing

Let us idle by pints
and half-cubed shorts
to steady our nerves –
to refine our remarks
and look without trying
to see less censed lies


Check this out on Chirbit

Pinballed

An incessant ring – ricochets
off cold button slappings –
leaves me rolled by misses
off others’ flickering wrists –

in a too-fucking-quickness

Punched untouchable parts
sing in summoned recoils
of ringtones – ready taunts
as another highest score rolls

against my own low tally

These lights and chimes
of mechanical retorts
wear down my defences
as my bent-to body flips

in my mind – fantasy ways

We keep quid balls rolling
We paddy-whack in arcades
of resized penny slots –
now upgraded to pounds

into adult-paying games

Thought

Repeat after me that long-known word
Our first-person singular pronoun

I

Now hold off your birl of cogitations
about other lives spinning from you

Too fast!

They will only weave loose concerns
into your mind off slip stitched threads

We warm containers of

best before

do not sit too well if left too long on shelves

Sleep without disturbing your private view
Do not crowd others’ centre stage marks

Give in to rested dreams – only to those –
and you’ll not be sliced on such barbed wires

 

Taking Stock

Under such circumstances
as these in which we live –
an old skill of mine – of gauging

by tipping
chiming barrels in cellars
or more likely cold side rooms
of ex-forces drinking clubs
to blindly assess levels left

Under such circumstances
my senses should be well-attuned
to any watering of truth
in unsighted places

By eye and by hand – in
old weights and measures –
my work was to balance stock
and it was never greeted well

Enclosed – Sheet of Instructions

That parquet floor you laid –
you refused to keep to
Enclosed – Sheet of Instructions
It is now lifting and separating —

Your brushed-off mistakes –
of not taking time to bond – to glue –
to set – are now a dozen fault-lines
across our hall and living room —

You have posited tectonic plates
in each space – where you bent and knelt –
jagged shadows of slow shifts away —
Others’ prayers are with our marriage