Musings

I WANT TO RECALL YOU - November 2013

Once you were 
and now you're not


In the space that surrounds me


you are vague and intangible


filtered light through slatted shutters


dust motes hovering over plumped out pillows


on the vacant armchair


where you used to slump


Once you were warm


and soft in my arms


Now I screw my eyes


and I try to conjure you
out of afternoon shadows


on the streets we used to tread


but you remain insubstantial


an elusive dream


a wisp of memory


I cannot recall

 

ON A BICYCLE AGAIN - October 2011

Freedom! Joy!

Hands held aloft

Gliding above the t-bar on a bicycle

Steaming down a quiet country lane

Bordered by high hedges on either side

Fields and fields

Acres of green green

Lie on either side

Can’t see them

But know they are there.

The sun on my back

The wind in my face

Freedom for now

I’m beaming.

WRITE ME A SICK NOTE

I’m a tourist

In my life

Of my life

Not the traveler

I wanted to be

I do the obligatory sightseeing

Wake up in the morning

When I’d rather not

Showering is an age

The routines, the routines

They exhaust

Whatever enthusiasm

I can muster

But diligently

I try, I try

Make polite conversation

Step in at the cues

Smile wanly

Curling my lips

So painful

Such an effort

Like small talk

I nod an mmh and ahh

When I’m told about so and so’s success

I get  in the car

Wonder  where I am

Where I’m going to

What sights to tick off

The list

But I can’t take my foot off the break

Even though I’m in motion

I forget that I’m pretending I am

Why should other people’s

Always other people’s

Endeavours diminish me

So many itineraries

Other people’s

Trails

Blazing ahead

Always ahead of me

As I continue to sit

Shuffling my feet

In the ante-chamber to my life

Flicking through the magazines

Those other people again

Beaming through their accomplishments

Saying they have arrived

With their photo spreads

Of their oh so beautiful

Houses and things and loves

And children, and cars and dogs

And careers, the careers

That go on and on

Like the opinions,

Columns and columns

Of statements, assertions

Look at me, acknowledge me

They say and say

In the pictures in between the lines

Cue now, applaud,

applause please

Whilst I refuse to

Be clapping in the audience

Too tired

The effort

The striving

You have to start with the desire

Of course

But the obvious

I’m not interested in

I ‘m ambivalent

The only adjective that comes close

I don’t want anything badly enough

Passionate for 5 minutes

Then the switch goes off

Like a cloud quickly

Obscuring the sun

Just as you finished

Spreading the sun cream

Oh well

Many sighs

Much hiding under the duvet

Wishing life would go away

Leave me alone

I want oh so want

(I do desire yes..occasionally)

To go back

To nothingness

To a world without thoughts

Formless

Limbo

Floating free

Relinquished

Absconded

Of having to become

To find some reason

More striving

To prove one’s existence

The worth of it

The measure of it

To contradict the futility of existence

The sadness

The misery of not having found

Purpose at 40

When half your time is up

This desire to dissapear into obscurity

Not just dithering  behind a cloud

I’m a tourist of my life

In my life

Not taking photos

But carrying the camera

Anyway

With a terror of the mundane

So I never do anything

Only sometimes

Then get bored

The repetativeness you see

It kills me..slowly

This feeling of I’ve been here before

Done this before

The marionette strings are frayed

I miss the prompts

Ignore them too

I can’t be jolted by the

Images

Autocued

On TV

Not anymore

Jaded by the mechanics of production

Like the fake reality shows

Is this what I’m supposed to aspire to?

To hold up as a mirror?

Like your news

Is this what I’m supposed to worry about?

And the football matches

Arbitralily arranged teams

Prefabricated dreams

Am I supposed to care which side wins

Because I don’t

This fear of life

Like a paralysis

I want to sleep

In foetal position

Shoulders hunched

Hand on my heart

Fist closed against it

I want to shut out

The crippling dread

Can someone write me a sick note

Purleassssseeeeeee

And excuse me indefinitely

From taking part

In this eternal game

They call life