Mists

(archives)

Dark eyes

What underlies these terrible eyes,
That greet me when I wake?
Panda eyed,
boy denied,
Look upon yourself.

Fate the cruel clock ticks,
hearing its heavy hammer hit,
like a second hand counting down:
days crash by,
Creeping up on me,
this premonitious destiny.

Dark eyes of an addict,
In public people stare,
Implicit questions there,
Their distance they’ll keep.
These eyes of me speak

What underlies these terrible eyes,
And what secrets they do keep.

No more bills, fears of an impotent provider

I’ve let a house define me.
Like so many before.
I’ve created a role which gives me meaning,
Thinking:
“I have to keep going, to keep us strong, established, stable, together.”
Head down.
“This is why I exist”

This thin veil is cut through as quickly as a guillotine dispenses of a long redundant royal head.
And as I am relieved of certain responsibilities,
I find myself to be not relieved.

To my surprise, I’m the one that struggles with the change, 
the pressing necessity to keep us warm and dry, gone,
Feeling:
Lost,
Spare,
Emasculated.
I see the opportunity,
But this freedom does not liberate me,
It endangers me,
It lands me on a line at a distance from my being.
Demanding of me a new definition,
A new raison d’être.

Like when the wings of an angel
Are clipped by god
At angelic request,
The consequences are read only by omniscient eyes and never wholly relayed.
Thus hoodwinked,
I’m left teetering on the precipice,
The normal restraints, retaining me, removed.
Left hoping my faith in my existence and that of my family will save me from a fall and from the worst of myself.

I see it

You’re not ok
But you say you’re fine
You smile to set my mind at rest
But I’m so good at the signs.
You want to make the world ok
For everyone around
Those maternal instincts kicking in
Things you can’t fix will bring you down.
All consuming thoughts
Habits
Routines
Regimentation of the day
Offer protection and stability
But it doesn’t make you ok

Be the rock, take it all
Solve their problems if you can
But you can’t, no one will
Your attempts will all fall down.

It’s not about the others
Your responsibility’s to you
It’s time for you to admit
The hurt you’re going through
And it torments you every day
The way I’ve seen in myself before
When white mists began to edge
And lick at my thoughts
All consuming thoughts
Habits
Routines
Regimentation of the day
Offering protection and stability
It doesn’t make us ok

Juddering Nights

The juddering nights awaken me
“Nightmares again Dear?”
Anxiety to fear
Fear of what isn’t clear
I draw you near
The issue persists
Nocturnal, episodic hauntings
I helplessly witness
Your hands and feet flail
But your face shows no distress
I draw your sleeping body close
But the issue still persists
Persists for me to witness
And it cuts at me so
Though calming with my caress
I’m forced to question your happiness

The soporific effects of an insomniac’s lover

They lay there, all legs, hands, arms and feet
Entangled like the roots of an old well formed tree
Supporting each other tenderly
Offering tactile security

Hands cupping shoulders
Feet drawing in legs
“Feel safe with me”

Ineffable
Words spoken through a glance
A pronounced stare
A tapping finger
“Know I care”

Interwoven
Inseverable
Indivisible

This space
This time
This repletion

Drowsy serenity
It’s almost scary that sleep could be so natural
Don’t question it
Sleep

The continuous caress of that body being there
The rhythmic motions of existence
Susurrant demands in that silent moment
“Sleep”

And in the darkness
Be still fears of the licentious licks of that other lover
The one that rouses from dreams
The one that demands conscious streams

Then awaken to find morning has come
Dozing and warm and welcoming the sun
Contentment touches the corners of each lover’s lips
Another conquered night given over to bliss

A Smile

He smiles uncontrollably to himself
Waking passions and thoughts rise to the fore
Memories losing their significance
Happy within himself once more

Rolled back and out of sight the timely mists
The haunting spectres of that loathsome man
Beaten back and broken with self awareness
Never to torment his soul again

Naked beauty radiates contentedness
Over all things he saw
Fraternal greetings from this lonely man
But he’s not lonely anymore

Go on
Smile sweetly as you walk along your path
The only moment you have is now
Take strength in what has come to pass
Enjoy life, you’re allowed.

Beached Dream

Erroneous thoughts flap and billow free
Tied fast to a thousand linear threads
From below they echo grey clouds above
Suspended over vacant sandy ground

Beached Dream recklessly listing to one side
Awaiting an encounter to break free
Strains and stresses audibly creak and groan
Beached Dream’s slowly deteriorating

Even the clearest and fine day there’s mist
The horizon blurred by waiting vapour
Always ready to roll in then engulf
When you’re on your knees and can walk no farther

The sandy grains clump between ugly toes
And sit heavily on top of tired feet
Eternal beach head and the sea afore
Constitutes this wanderers Calvary

Only the thoughts that flap and billow free
Offer up a clear opportunity
Take hold of those wayward strands and threads
Set sail on the unknown trajectory

Mr Moon

Through the darkness, the moonlight cuts
A lonely gaze which I return;
Two friends greet each other once more,
Stoic; intimate: cold light burn.

Weary wanderer watches us.
The hoariest of observers,
Mankind’s patient companion.

A cold caress illuminates,
Gentle benevolence, the hushed
Pale faces, once florid now sleep.

I lay silent; enamoured with
The nocturnally present sphere.
Wondrous patterns creep around me.

A shadow emerges above,
There’s a recess in the plaster;
Great cavernous voids open up,
Like my friend’s pocked facial features.

Through nights of cloud or crisp cold air,
The giant alabaster stare,
Onward with the journey path,
I track progress o’er a starry cloth.

This sight; that light; another night.

Chased once again in a bluing morn.
Restfully, retreating raging dawn.

I Dreamt a Dream of a Dream

Indecipherable dreams encroach once more,
Is this the summit; the terminus,
Or simply a plateau in this perpetual cycle?

I dream of a day-dream of a dream,
Of a different reality,
Of a different me,
Of a different she,
Of a different what could be.

Nails dig into my palms,
I’m back again,
Woken quickly by violent shaking.
Gasping.
None sleep.
Thoughts that pitch me against me.
Thoughts: I can’t be the things I want to be.

I see the father before me,
He knows me from the inside out.
He can’t let me progress here.
We’re fighting.
He’s right,
He can see my dreams,
And knows they should never be,
Not for him, me or she.

I day-dream a dream of a dream,
Of elated faces,
Of inscrutable pride,
Of indestructible belonging,
Of infinite possibilities.

Fading hopes.
Fading embraces,
Fading away are,
Fading faces.

I dream of a day-dream of a dream.
But wake up,
To find it’s just me.