NaPoWriMo 2016: Day 29

She sits in the empty room

Suddenly aware of how bare walls are greedy eaters

They leave the room hollow

She feels as if she is sitting in a ribcage

A bone picked carcus

She feels sick

Her friends came

Boxed her into several pieces and left one by the door

“return it or burn it” written on the side in thick black lines.

It has been weeks since that box fitted into this home

But even so she has not stopped moving it around

To this place and that.

On the fifty seventh day the bottom gives out

The floor is strewn with feathers

So many colours and shapes

At the top of this mountain of flight

A single piece of paper

Pinned by a blackbird feather.

She takes the word

And hides it for the rainy days

It always seems to grow brighter

Then she frames the feathers (every one)

It still is missing something

But she looks at the word

And knows

That that is ok.

NaPoWriMo 2016: Day 15

This is the dream:

She lies under a peach tree

Carelessly running fingers across the bark

Beside her there is a basket of peaches

On her other side a pile of peach stones

The peaches are sunsets

As big as her palm

She eats them full mouthed

Light dripping

The stones are the cores of stars

Still clinging to the yellow

She places these peach stones down

Delicately imprecise

She and the tree they are on an island

Surrounded by a lake

The lake it is a mirror

The stars tread water

There are no waves here.

Everything is still.

The woman she takes a handful of peach stones

Makes them dance with small gestures

She takes them one by one and skims them across the water

Out of the water a bear comes

Swimming

Pieces of sun stuck in single strands in his fur

The bear reaches her island

Shakes off the night

Take its fur and drapes it over her

They sit beside one another

Peach stones, the woman, and the bear

He tells her all about where he goes in the morning

She laughs but she knows she will never leave this island.

This is how they sleep.

Curled around a basket of sunsets.

Tomorrow they know they will do this dance again

And they smile at the routine.

Untitled

I sleep alone,
In a bed with room enough for more.
Some nights it is bigger than others.
Some nights I am smaller.

I sleep with the lover of my dreams,
Nestled in the empty cradle of my arm,
Legs interwoven like DNA.
In our sleep we are the building blocks of the universe
The base unit of existence.

I sleep with my back to the stars,
Because no beauty can match the dreams I have some nights.
And some nights I don’t want to see the beauty I can’t reach out and touch.

I sleep sporadically,
Chasing after hours to kill with forgetting,
And remembering too much to succeed.

I don’t sleep.
Because the words are keeping me awake with their dancing.
Because the faces are smiling too brightly.
Because outside the window drunk people are enjoying life.
Because I have slept too much already.

But when I sleep,
I dream of dull and boring things
And in their simplicity they are the most beautiful of all
I sleep with a smile
Even when I sleep alone.

Letters to the Girl

Dear love,
On the night you left the first time
I walked upside down through the night sky and watched the sun fall out of the city
The second night you left me I didn’t look outside until it was climbing in through my window
Both times I didn’t sleep

Dear love,
I don’t sleep so good anymore
I blame you
That’s not entirely fair
You see I blame the ghosts of you haunting every object in my house
The bed is the worst

Dear lover,
There are things I don’t do anymore
I can’t watch Miyazaki without you
It sounds so silly but there it is
I don’t write about other people anymore, trust me I’ve tried
But you keep sneaking in the back

Dear lover,
What have you done to me?
Dear lover,
How do I make it stop?
Dear lover,
I don’t want it stop
I just want this to be over
Dear lover,
I never said thank you
And now I never will
Dear lover,
How did you manage it?

Dear lover,
I started keeping images of you under my eyes
I got bruised from replaying them
One of these days I’ll stop
One of these days
Until then I pack restless nights under eyelids

Dear love,
I don’t sleep so good anymore
I blame you
And her.

From Out of Town

Alone is a place,

A town not far from where you live

Populated by friends and neighbours at one time or another

And they’re all perfectly friendly

And have neat gardens

And grow sunflowers in the summer

And have dogs and cats which lie still when the sun comes up

I walk through alone sometimes

But I never want to live there

Instead I go at night

When I’m in a mood to be honest with myself

And the birds are still chirping even though it’s four in the morning

But I don’t mind

There are worse sounds

 

One night I trod along the pavements

Kicking glass hearts which had shattered there that evening,

It was Valentine’s day after all,

And I hummed a jazz standard in my head

And breathed the air like an unlocked snare drum

And I laughed at the cold

The kind of thing I can only do in alone

Sometimes the empty streets are peaceful

But it always seemed strange to me

That I was the only one in them.