Zombie Land

To sit and not be reminded
To laugh and never shed a thought
Enraptured, unwrapped, ensourcelled
None of the above
But still

You make it hard on yourself
Pouring that concrete round your boots
And not budging till it sets
Solid as the present
And then you wonder why you can not move
It's no rocket science
Just lead feet.

The open pyrite seas
Has a shore in it's back pocket
Kept safe and dry
For washed up poets
With words adrift at sea.

The drain pipe is trying to say something
But the words slip wetly to the concrete
And are never seen again

Fancy that
A black and white cat
And a brand new hat for tea
Oh won't you please
Get up off your knees
And dance in your sleeves with me.

The wave only sinks the shop
When the ship already leans that way
Or too far the other side

Every time I see your name
Written down on a poster
Where the wall catches my eye
I am reminded of something
A fourth generation immigrant thought
Lost to the language of home.

Watercolour.

These wings are painted on
The feathers catch the morning sun
But not the evening breeze
In the half shadows of almost day
I'll be your angel mistake
A silhouette of promises
That wash away in the rain

Heart not In It

Breathing words to the ignorance of heaven
Mumble promises you'll never keep
Beg forgiveness you'll never feel
And stumble off on disillusioned feet.

Tell them you knew it all along
Keeping it under gladwrap
Sealing the freshness in
Like a good joke
Like a kept secret
Like a filled roll
They still find the elephant in your room
The one you fed every day
While the underwraps went stale.

Calculate the odds
Crunch the numbers
Combine the probabilities
Call up every figure
Yet
Hope stands on the walls
Shaking a defiant fist
Even as the mortar crumbles.

A bunch of flowers
I never gave you
Only words
And they are breath
So they don't tip the scales
Very far

Re-access the imaginary
With the atrophied footsteps
Of an astronaut reacquainting with earth.
To the pain of hibernating muscles
Stretching and shedding their winter coats.

A trial
A change of places
Windows to the wilderness
Two views required
Till all is said and done

The world spinning ever on
Misses not one mortal son
Rumbling deep and strong
As changes paint the walls
And are taken down
All bypass this humble chair
Where eyeballs loose the tracks of time
And derail in the tunnels of sleep.

It all adds up
Till the numbers lose their meaning
Like fullstops.........................................................................................................................................

Sweeping the bad under the carpet
Taking the good out of the closet
And polishing up the plaques
Till they gleam to match your eyes
Or treat it as just another day
Where everything changes
And everyone filters off
To grow up suddenly out of sight.

Change always comes when the day is too late