Tag Archives: existential

Only Time Will Tell

“This is the Watch

that was broken for you”..

Who forgot to partake of

the sacraments of Time

and found themselves

short of days?

“This is the Time

that was spent for you”..

Days they will never see again,

nor gather unto themselves

those ephemeral moments

spiralling beyond their grasp;

“This is the Watch

that was broken for you”..

And the body of the hours

now broken for them on a platter

so that they might never

have to break the hours again;

“This is the Time

that was spent for you”.

Dummy

In the darkened gloom

of a wooden tomb,

you kept me smothered

in a dank ,musty cloth,

my burial shroud wrapped around me,

like nightmares wrap themselves

around my dreams

were I be allowed to dream,

to suffocate on my own dust

passing time watching iron nails rust,

distant noises muffled

my own screams caught in a throat

that cannot issue its own currency of speech,

my counterfeit visage

its motionless mouth,

my fugue turns a darker shade of night;

until,

until,

until you release me

on parole again;

and as I sit obediently on your knee,

the applause reaches its crescendo

and you bow your head

as Charles did upon the chopping block

to which my thoughts stray

and before you put me back

into the wooden tomb,

I know now,

what I must do…

Staring Contest

See the empty pages

staring,

staring back at you

staring as you stare

at them:

All those pages,

empty,void and

blank

waiting for a stroke

of your pen

the cut and thrust

of some intellect and

a little wit;

Scratches on the surface

of the Sun,

etchings on the landscape

of the Moon;

and still you stare at them

whilst they’re staring back

at you,

and you alone

hold the pen.

Excerpts from a Conversation

Who are you again?

Oh,that’s right!

yes,I remember now;

who,me?

yeah,yeah..

erm,no,you’re thinking about someone else,

no,he was there round about the same time,

yeah,that’s right,

and you?

cancer of the bowel? wow!

no,I..I’m sorry to hear that?

Me? oh coming up to 30 years..

Department of Work and Pensions,Benefits,

erm,well no,not particularly

I can’t remember ever sanctioning anyone suffering from cancer;

Tens of thousands? really?

that’s just shocking!

Yeah, I am a Union member..

Oh,I don’t know..

anyhow,nice catching up with you..

see you around again sometime?

The Bridge On The River Aire

Spine
spinal,
vertebrae
marks to be read
lines in a story
in tongues
we once knew;
thread
and threads
threadbare
woven
in movement
thro’ stilness,
alive in the noise
of silence,
flow flowing
ebb ebbing,
a corpus of whom,
of when ,of how,
of where we are,
were,will be,
remaining remembered
renewed thro’ riving
purposed writhing,
reaching a not
purposed slipping
into camouflage
in its own setting;
of a particular
space and time,
now caught,
now released,
animate intense
passively resisting
our questions,
wonder,
hope.

Requiem For A Fighter

Chico Torres
practitioner of the pugilistic arts,
was considered by his employers
the “Men” from Reno, Nevada
as the best light heavyweight
prospect of his generation;
Chico would’ve gone on to challenge
the renowned Hagler and Hearns
and like them had his glory,
become beatified and transcendent
in the hearts of his compatriots,
but the moon crossing Sagittarius
made such a moment inauspicious;
repeated adrenalin-thrusted blows
spurting fountains of scarlet
the viscerality of their acute pain
of bone on bone on bone
sending Chico and his compatriots’ dreams
crashing down down into canvass oblivion;
his brain torn
slashed kidneys bleeding
and oxygen failing,
for Chico Torres,
the moment of glory
had already passed.

Lunchtime Interlude

There is Bach

playing on the radio,

and I am sat

at the dining table,

having finished my

lunchtime repast,

there is cabarnet shiraz

in my glass,

and I savour

all of these moments

now,

now passing,

now gone,

only

to be

repeated.

Author’s footnote;

Composed 1:11 -1:14 pm.

( He prepares a table before me..)

Passing Thoughts

Passing thoughts

passing us by

into

the nothingness of nothing,

the nothing of nothingness;

the wherefore of whys,

the whys of wherefore;

the noise of silence,

the silence of noise;

the emptiness of empty,

the empty of emptiness;

the traveller knocking at the door,

waiting,

waiting,

waiting

Brief Notes on a Suicide Foretold

When you wave goodbye to the World,

for the last time,

don’t tell them that you’ll never be back;

It only makes the world sad

to hear such things,makes it feel

sadder than it already is;

So when you do wave goodbye,

goodbye, goodbye, forever and anon,

don’t tell them anything except

that you’re looking forward to some

time away and having a great time,

and that you’ll write.