Lack of support

Always leaning forward,
never leaning back.
We strain to get closer,
forgetting to fear the attack.

By now we should know better
but passion always wins,
overtaking wisdom,
allowing us our sins.

Time

Times have changed,
and times have past.
There's more to come
it's not the last.
Each hug,
each cry,
each shoulder took,
will fade away.
But the memory,
that's here to stay.

Mixed Emotions

A match lit from the heart,
the fire of midnight sparkles
glisten for an eternity,
or just the moment.
When the light burns out,
clarity remains.

I don't believe

I don't believe in happy endings.
I don't believe in hope.
I don't believe in love,
because I no longer believe in you.

My partner and me

I have been wrapped up tightly in black leather all day. They are supposed to be functional, comfortable even, but I want freedom. I cannot breathe, beads of perspiration gather in my crevices, I need air. The cotton cloaking between me and the leather does nothing to soften the rubbing against my delicate surface. Some stand on spindly towers but I'm flat to the ground. I've seen others sway sensually in sexy stilettos or totter dangerously in daring platforms, but I am plain in my cow skin, mock cow skin. The pillars above squash me down. A dull ache throughout. Hands get paid while I suffer, my partner and me. Backwards and forwards, absorbing the impact. I long for the luxury of warm water to soak in. Soft skin blisters, while the rough gets rougher. I should be caressed, massaged, but she won't allow it because she is too busy.

My Angel

Time flowed by,
I was alone,
nothing could touch
the truth inside.
Until what I saw one day
changed me.
Now I know
what you went through.
We'll be together until the very end
my friend.
You mean so much to me
but now apart we must be.
You've moved on
but I can't let go.
I'll hold onto the past,
to you,
hold onto the memories,
which will never die,
they'll remain with me
for as long as I shall be.

Happy Birthday

Soft lies are told while dead hearts crawl
through forest caves bejeweled.
The crackle as stick snap underfoot the flame,
scarred flesh buried where eyes cannot see.
An ecstasy of flowing salt
frozen like snow flakes and kept for eternity.
Bruised and broken within.

Struggling sheets of ice slip.
Branches pinned back.
Gasps of wind mocking silence
within the cave unheard.
Beating drums hasten as the scream is sliced short.
Chained to the celebration
on the day you were born.

Fire Drops

We watch and wait.
Unclear is our fate,
kept within the dark one's gate.
Our fire burns beyond his grate.
Within his heart, shines loving hate.

Sure as rain drops' shining dew,
in our secret place, I'll wait for you.

Forgiven not Forgotten

I thought I could forget,
I thought I didn't care,
I thought that he was gone
but I was unaware.

I thought that it as over,
I thought I didn't care,
I thought I didn't love him
but I was unaware.

I thought it was a game,
I thought I didn't care,
I thought my eyes were open
but I was unaware.

I thought I had moved on,
I thought I didn't care,
I thought it wasn't meant to be
but I was unaware.

A drop of magic

A cut edge
sparkling through,
a drop of magic,
this perfect jewel.
No gold or silver
adorning you.
Just this magic drop,
sparkling through.

It's Never Over

Each tear drop glistening in the blink of an eye,
a drop of heart ache to save for all time.
Truth's far more hurtful than any white lie.
Love's more poetic than any old rhyme.

Each small smile shining with the hope of a day,
a moment of joyful nothing forever to save.
The magic inside that I am giving away,
compared with loving another there's nothing so brave.

Each breath of thumping lovers heartbeat,
a crescendo of what each kiss meant.
The dust of time gone by, crushed beneath my feet.
My days alone are far from spent.

The End

What's the use of trying
when trying never works?
What's the use of lying
when lying makes things worse?
What's the use in crying
when crying shows you're hurt?

It's times like these that you can see
some friendship is not so true.
It's times like these that you can feel
some people just done care.
It's times like these that you can hear
no-one is there to listen.

When all that hurt,
when all that loss,
when all that pain is gone.

Silence can no longer deafen
in the peace I lie.
No-one causes loneliness
in the peace I lie.
Coldness I'll no longer feel
in the peace I lie.

Standing on the edge of life,
preparing for the fall.

Memories

Memories should not be forgotten
or dragged up once again.
They remind you of the joy you had
or haunt you with sadness gone by.
Forgive but don't forget.
Remember but don't reminisce.
Collect but do not cry.
Life's too short to sit around and whisper
about what happened in the past.
Try to live with others beside you
and search to find the hope within yourself.
At last you'll see what's beyond the dark
can take as long as you or me,
can last as long as time,
as long as you remember.
Memories may be kept inside;
feelings you never knew you had.
Mysteries to those who seek
the secrets in your heart.

All for the want of a little hair dye

There was such a woman could be see as fair
if not be judged by things to wear.
Draped down her back her straw blonde hair
but at the top there is black root,
not upstaged by over knee boot.
You can tell she's used to cars that hoot.
Skirt hitched up high,
legs reach the sky,
many stares from passers by.
Long, blood red nails,
painted while riding the rails.
She's accustomed to no end of males.
Part of her occupation.
No thought of her final destination.
Her next man is waiting at the station.
Daintily she flicks off an end of ash,
blood shot eyes suggest it's hash.
I'm thinking now not fair but trash.
I wonder if she died today,
if she'd be left there where she lay,
if she has friends but those who pay?
How did such a girl end up here?
Losing all that she held dear.
Each night she sleeps with many a tear
in the corner of her eye.
She'll not tell what makes her cry.
And all for the want of a little hair dye.

New Year

The seconds tick by,
days, weeks, a month.
Moments to be savoured,
as each one flies so fast,
swooping, swallows singing
songs of days gone past.
Ebony tear trails may trickle
but tomorrow never dies.
Looking to the future,
tomorrow you start your life.
Seconds tick by,
your years on the clock.

All these words I couldn't say

So many things to tell you,
and now its finally time.
I’ve waited far too long to say
I can’t let time pass me by.
Each word I’ll say is true,
listen hard to every line.
In this game I’ve had to play
there've been tears shed for each lie.
The sadness and confusion,
the sweetness and the sighs.
Deceive yourself you can’t deceive me,
in your cold hearted illusion.
The truth is in your eyes.
Things can’t stay the way they are,
it’s all or nothing.
You’ve never really loved me,
I guess it’s over now.
I’ve been used and abused by you
so much it makes me cry.
All these words I couldn’t say.
Someone else will when I'm gone.

What a cliche

It was raining cats and dogs, coming down in buckets. When it rains it always pours. My head was hot enough to fry an egg on, despite the rain.

My father always told me that money can't buy you happiness but he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. I have to work a little harder to make ends meet. I had an amazing new plan to bring home the bacon. After all, money doesn't grown on trees.

So I picked a few pockets and was laughing all the way to the bank. Nobody's perfect. It was a piece of cake, easy as pie.

I rushed home to the little woman. I'd never tried to pull the wool over her eyes and she never got bent out of shape about my career choice. I guess love is blind, even when you don't see eye to eye.

Spice Kitchen

Wafting of spices,
earths salts soaring on the air,
whetting taste buds.

Salsa

Toes tapping and heels clicking we learnt our lesson. Spanish dancing with Latin footsteps. Spinning and sliding across terracotta tiles. Twisting and turning together. Sashaying, softly stepping, then stomping our feet. Hips shaking, fingers snapping, circling ever onwards.
Cold, wet, refreshing,
droplets dripping down the side.
Encased in plastic.

This is not a haiku

Tall pine trees waving,
tarmac footsteps echo loud,
white lines next to grass.

Ice Fire Steel

My blood is blue.
I am no royal.

I'm made of steel.

I bleed like you.

I can be broken.
I'm not a toy.

I am not dead.
I bleed like you.

I'm hard and soft.
I'm cold all over.
I am a snowstorm.

I am a fire.
I'll burn you quickly.

I'm made of steel.

I have a heart.
I have yours too.
I'll steal your breath
like you stole mine.

It's not a game.

The stab of steel.
The slice of ice.

I am the frost.
I crush.
I crunch.
I often kill.

You tore my soul.

The snow was melting.

I am not dead.
I am not frozen.
I can be broken
but not by you.

Empty Deep

An ache
so deep,
so excruciatingly deep,
that grows,
grows roots at wind in deeper.
Eroding sanity
until there's nothing left.
Nothing but depth and emptiness.
Emptiness that eats away
until you have the answer.
And that time never comes.

Diving for Inspiration

Blazing reflections on the water
glaring into my eyes
so I cannot deny them.
Ducks diving for food,
their bottoms to the sky, symbolize
the upside down state of my

mind with me hopelessly
diving for inspiration.
I sit in the shadows
to shade myself.
The shade obscures the sun's
clarity from me.
How can I see so clearly

the meaning in the lake
but I am unable to see
my own meaning,
my own purpose.

Extended Smoke

Step through the sizzle,
surrounded by oppressed,
scorched faces, staring back through mist and haze,
searching with gazes intense.

Sharp song notes suppress us,
smog blurs our view.
Singing of melodies softly blend in syndicate.
Stunned the audience enthuse.

Senses soothed by sensual harmonies as
stress seeps from the pores.
Swaying and mesmerized they dance,
stomping through the steam.

Strength fights the fog of fire and
silhouettes merge transparent,
stumbling in the fierceness.
Souls of a sensitive demeanor flee.

Sickening us the vapor chokes.
Shock shakes the figures.
Small paper cylinders produce
searing spirals of smoke.

Lake Alone

Ripples circling
as a leaf touches the surface.
Gently, water waves at

the trailing Willows who gaze
as ducks
paddle by, then

open mouthed gold
fish bob to the surface and
in a shimmer fade away

between pink petals that protrude
from pads,
flat and green.

Squirrels scamper above the water
skittering up
the spiralled tree tops,

through which canopy
plump droplets patter and
slide down grass blades.

But on this battered old bench
tainted with green
I sit alone.

Awash in Reality

Soft tales are told of a romance so true;
courting lovers fantasies, the stars and moon,
sweet lies run black with blood red hue.
A passion for me that dies far too soon.
Illusions woven in the depth of night;
young maidens wait while their princes roam wild.
Storm clouds a’ brewing in my tortured heart
escape from these chains and start to fight
warm love cravings from a poor lonely child.
By nightmares my heart has been ripped apart.
Princes of darkness awash in their gloom
stripped they should be of their royal gold blue.
There’s no soul mate waiting out there for you.
To stay or to stray is my strongest plight,
can such heartbreak ever be reconciled?
Like a butterfly trapped inside cocoon
each story begins to lose its own start.
Soft tales not so soft for the hard at heart.

Under a Full Moon

If I could stop. If I could go back. It would be different. It would be better or I would understand, but it’s no use. I know what happened that night under a full moon. Now every day life is a façade, I wear a mask concealing the truth. Every night I relive those fatal moments.
It was the largest moon I’d ever seen; silver, glowing, beckoning me outside. So I obeyed, I slipped into my trainers and tripped over the untied laces and groped around for my coat. The warm wool comforted me and I was convinced I had to go.
I walked, I stumbled, following the moon, until at last I arrived at the edge of a cliff. Stones tapped down the side, their sound disappearing below, nothing at the bottom but darkness shadowed beyond the moon’s light, except there was something in the nothingness. The feeling of being a child enveloped me, scared of the monsters under the bed, hiding under the covers. But at twenty-five, alone on the cliff top there was no Mum and Dad to save me.
I blinked. One second, but in that second it all changed. My eyes reopened and the moon was gone. The sky around me was a black canvas, no star, no cloud, but most obviously no moon. Without the moon there was no cliff edge, there was no light, I was in a dark waterless sea, terrified and yet disbelieving.
I died that night, I made the wrong step, and without my sight my feet had no sense of direction. I fell, grazing every surface of my skin as I scarred the rocks fierce edges. But I never landed.
That’s not exactly true, I must have landed, but I landed back at the top, standing on the cliff edge, under the full moon, the light touching the land as far as I could see. A dream? Perhaps, but that wouldn’t account for the rips in my clothing, my missing shoe, the blood smeared across my skin and the droplets trickling from my eyes.
I died that night but I’m still alive. Because of the mask I look the same but I know I’m someone different.

Encounter

She sat shaking, with her head on my shoulder, the warm wet patch growing with each tear. For three years she had put up with varying cruelty. Thoughts ran through her head an endless stream. She loved him and she hated him and he’d manipulated her and he had insulted her and he’d cheated on her, and he was always late and she always paid for everything and she thought they would marry. And their blissful holidays together, and they’d gazed into each others eyes, and he’d moved in with her and she didn’t know whether she could trust anything he had ever told her and he’d made her feel so amazing. And he’d made her cry and now it had to end.

The screech of the buzzer echoed round the flat as we realised someone would have to answer it. But moments later there was a knock on the door. He must have charmed someone from downstairs. I wasn’t looking forward to the scene I knew must follow.

Wiping the salt trails from her eyes, taking a deep breath she glanced through the peephole and answered the door. She threw herself into his orange arms, her golden hair mixing with his dark as he rested his head on hers. I sat there awkwardly, wondering idly if he used St. Tropez. Over her shoulder he winked at me, “Alright.” I allowed him a tight-lipped smile, holding back many things I wanted to say. I tried to understand what she saw. She couldn’t possibly give him another chance could she?

Her body trembled as he rocked her gently backwards and forwards, a bored expression on his face. “‘S ok darling I’m here now.” Now. Three hours late, as soon as possible. She slowly pulled back and stared into his eyes assessingly. She remembered him calling her ugly, him throwing her across the room, him breaking her arm, when she found he had cheated on her and him softly kissing her goodnight. His gaze met hers, the emptiness telling her how little he cared. “Thanks.” Before she would have forgiven him, held him close and kissed him, now she wanted to forget how she felt and push him away.

They went into her room that night and he was gone by the morning. He had told her he loved her, he needed her, things would get better. At breakfast there were no tears but no smiles. Sadly I felt it would only be a matter of time until again she sat shaking, with her head on my shoulder.

Love's Clichés

They say they will "never leave" us, the people we love. They say "our love will last forever". They say "we have something special". "You mean the world to me." They say "no-one has ever felt like this before". And despite the clichés, despite having heard it before, we believe them - who's the fool here?

Clinging to the Memory

The stars on my ceiling start to fade, or maybe my eyes are closing. They’ve been there as long as I can remember and I keep meaning to take them down but something always stops me. Maybe it’s the fear of growing up. Maybe I just like them. They remind me of you and I'm not ready to let that memory go. If I leave them there, maybe you will come back to take them down.

Pop Culture

You are ok. I know after Big Brother you were convinced Mickey Mouse was going to propose and you'd have a Chantelle and Preston style wedding and live happily ever after like Jordan and Peter Andre after I'm a Celebrity Get Me out of Here. And no one, least of all you expected to catch him eating a Burger King after signing the big MacDonald's promotion with Justin Timberlake. But after a few Starbucks and a pint of Haagen-Dazs, you will get over it. You have that walk on part in Eastenders coming up. Just listen to a few itunes, check your facebook on your new apple and you'll feel better. So Mickey's been sent back to Hollywood. You don't need him. Go on a date with a footballer, sell your kiss and tell story to the Sun and you'll have Mickey begging you to take him back. And if all else fails, fight Gary Lineka for some Walkers salt and vinegar, they always do the trick.

Goodbye

Tears fall
from thick lined eyes,
down soft cheeks

dropping softly
soaking into the collar. More
tears fall

in streams
flowing salt trails
down soft cheeks.

Eyes redden as tissues
wipe, attempting to stop
tears fall,

unstoppable tears.
Sadness weaving its own pattern
Down soft cheeks.

Deep, choking breaths
shaking from pale lips, as
tears fall
down soft cheeks.

And all for what?

Bombs fell from the sky,
Small children start to cry,
Down every London city street,
Good and evil here do meet,
No-one knows which side is right,
But none will lose without a fight,
Battle after battle will be won,
But of the winner we’ll see none,
For he stays hidden away,
In some place all night and day,
Out of the way of the bombs that fall,
Crashing down on wall after wall.

Constraint

Looking into the skyline,
seeing the darkness through
the light.
The colours dance around me.
It is a magical night.
Warm arms around my waist,
their strength keeps me from flying free
but in those gaps of darkness
my mind soars.
He'll never have the whole of me.

Potential

I am a bank account with high interest
but I only contain a few pounds.
I do not achieve my full potential,
but I could,
if you would let me.

I burn

I am a chilli.
Bright,
Hot,
Spicy.
I burn
and make your tongue tingle.
I can easily make you cry.

I am the theatre

I am a play
constantly rehearsing.
I am the understudy whose leading lady always goes on.
I am left in the wings when standing centre stage
because my leading man won't give his best performance.
I'm not ready for the curtain,
but I can see it start to fall.
I am the encore that's never called for.

Real

If the dragon is not so much slain as silenced,
If the knight doesn't sweep you off your feet,
If you've won the battle but not the war,
If your life is not a fantasy,
It really could be real.