I should be working,
marking scripts, writing up research
but the sun is shining
through grey-white clouds
and the breeze is moving
my vertical blinds
creating an illusion of a summer’s day

It rained this morning,
hard, as it has each morning
for the last week. I woke to
lightning even, on Sunday.
Typical English summer
experienced only in glimpses
of what others have in
consistent abundance.

And yet, there is something
wonderful about listening to
songbirds, the rustling of leaves,
looking out of my office window
with views of the cathedral,
the abbey gardens, the roof
of the prefabs which hosted
seagull porn not so long ago,
(I had to avert my eyes feeling
strangely intrusive after the
novelty wore off) that curiously
British pastime of second-guessing
the next rain, the promise of
a clear day.

I’m rarely bored.
How about you?

Come, fall into Love,
hold my hand as we stand
at the brink, the point of no return.
Look into my eyes
and know this space between us
is a divine gift
our heartwish granted.

Did you imagine it would
fit your limited picture,
conditioned as it is by
the mundane, cardboard cut-out
versions peddled by those
with vested interests, who
would distract us from the
liberating power of true love.

Look into my eyes and see
that I do not wish to possess
you, to control you, to
use you as a pawn in
a ‘love’-blame-shame game?
I simply want
to hold your hand
and fall

into

Love

with you.

there would be no regret,

for what is regret if not

a lament against the cruel

tyranny of time.

Without time one could go back

right the wrongs, take back words,

undo deeds, bring back the dead.

They say Time heals all wounds

but that is cold comfort

like the hug from the mother

who has just beaten you.

Time is the merciless ruler

of our limited lives.

The boundary we cannot escape;

the prison and the prison guard

doling out universal justice

with no exceptions, no clemency

no chance for convincing arguments

to be heard, considered, to change

the course of events.

And yet without time

there would be no hope

no future, no possibility of change

or the excitement of anticipation.

No reflection, retrospection,

the savouring of memories and

treasured moments.

Without time there would be no loss,

no grief, no pain to remind us that

once we loved and cared

for someone, something, some thing.

Is time an illusion?

A collection of endless units of now

turned linear through the human mind.

Birth, ageing, death; Time’s children

spawned through experience,

communicated through stories,

collapse in an instant when we see clearly.

Everything is as it should be.

Timeless.  Now.

Either he thinks of you
or he doesn’t

Either he likes you
or he doesn’t

Either he wants to impress you
or he doesn’t

Either he cares what you think of him
or he doesn’t

Either he takes care of you
or he doesn’t

Either he does what it takes to keep you
or he doesn’t

Simple
isn’t it?

How scared I am to have her living here

How I find myself crying myself to sleep

and waking with tears falling from my eyes

into the tear-stained pillows

of my childhood.

Just tell me you understand

how I feel my life ebbing away

all the gains, all the achievements

all my friendships and dreams

in my past, no longer my present or future;

how I fear they will never be regained.

Just tell me you understand

how lonely I feel with a pain so great

that no one else wants to share it

and how damaged and toxic that

makes me feel, unlovable and

untouchable, emotionally diseased

and disposable.

Just tell me you understand

how fragile my world is

that despite my years of struggling

to build my own life

it can be so easily threatened

by her presence.

Just tell me you understand

how my sanctuary has been

defiled, the safety of my home

shattered, the calm of my being

undermined, the ground under my feet

whipped away, leaving me adrift

on a sea of disturbing emotions

which surge and crash

against my brittle shell.

Just tell me you understand

the secret that I carry

of being unloved by those

who should have loved me,

of being neglected by those

who should have cared,

of being betrayed by those

who should have protected me,

of being misled by those

who should have guided me

of being abused by those

who should have nurtured me

of being abandoned by those

who should have kept me safe.

Just tell me you understand

what happens to the child

given too much power,

“You are making your mother sick”

what happens to the child

not allowed to be herself.

“Why can’t you be more …

happy

friendly

warm

sociable

fun

caring

considerate

kind

?”

Just tell me you understand

why I feel I can’t go on

why I want to run away

why I reach out desperately

to anyone who might

just understand.

Oversensitive, highly-strung
Yes, that’s me, I admit
To the barely concealed
Madness dividing my mind
And carving up my heart.

What is worse? The fear or desire?

I want you so bad
To hold and be held
Till I can believe we are one
Merged, connected for all time
Bringing me safety and security
In the warmth of your smile
In the power of our love.
I am reaching, reaching
Wanting to move closer
Closer to you, to my heart
Of desire.

But then I stop wanting
And start trembling
With the fear of the illusion,
Of being love’s fool
Humiliated and wretched
Betrayed or repaid with
Indifference – is that worse than rejection?
Left with no other conclusion
But that I am unloved and
Unlovable.

Where is my centre, my
Core of stability? The ground
Beneath my feet is constantly
Shifting. How can I ground myself,
Be rooted, be safe?
I’m lost and alone with no map
And no compass. Just waiting
And wondering if you’ll ever
Come home.

It is all connected
deep beyond deep.

and here it comes now

the wave of emotion rising

from the pit of my stomach

like the crackling lightning

on Dr Frankenstein’s machine

it jolts my heart sending bolts

up into my confused brain

and now the neurones are firing

in a million different directions

throwing up parallel contradictory thoughts

and I’m experiencing overload

though you would never know it

as I sit stock still trying hard

not to cry, only able to blurt out

a meaningless quip saturated with anger

while desperately trying to find

the one coherent thought

amongst the chaos.

It comes to me later, too late.

All I really wanted to say was

‘Hold me, hold me and never let me go.’

That was
your opening line.

Pity I didn’t think to ask
where to?