All entries for Friday 05 February 2010

Visiting the hospital.

They found you in the fountain,
completely naked, smiling at visitors
causing no harm at all but offending
with your hollow flesh and bones.

You were allowed to walk the green,
they won’t let you see the flowers again,
but I’m sure it was absolutely worth it
for the dignity of bathing yourself.

At mealtimes you season your tongue,
letting the salt sting your wounds,
and push your food around the plastic
dish, with your plastic knife and fork.

Mother stopped eating recently too,
and the launderette is closing down,
people buy their own machines now,
we can’t, not for just one plate.

In your letter you said you couldn’t taste,
but do come home when you’re better,
I’ll make dinner for the three of us
and maybe we can buy a dishwasher.

: 05 Feb 2010 15:58 |  Tags: Poetry |  Comments (0) |  Close comments |  Report a problem

I have a history of suicide.

I have a history of suicide
dabbling with salmonella
raw egg dripping down my chin
frothy yellow poison,
a rabid dog.

I sink my teeth into strays,
spitting out matted fur
allowing the dying animal
to maul my legs until
I eat the carcass.

: 05 Feb 2010 15:55 |  Tags: Poetry |  Comments (2) |  Close comments |  Report a problem

Praise Poetry

It’s that 6am cigarette out a window for that morning kick
14 once more, choking with grazed-knees, inhaling that first tobacco hit
It’s over-analysing every miniscule movement or accidental slip of tongue,
Whether his new haircut is for me, to give 2 cheeks kisses or give one,
And it’s the 70p drop of coffee in a plastic cup that scolds my palms,
And Mother’s shrill voice over toast crumbs, the storm before the calm.
It’s an unopened envelope that’s not been addressed by a machine,
that glorious tearing noise, the papercut when over keen.
It’s half past 5 in the Winter when the sun is soon to rest,
Red mittens and scarves, the radiator and my unmade nest.
It’s the nap after Christmas dinner, my Dad’s snoring all year through,
It’s to stumbling home intoxicated to find the porch light is on for you.
It’s bubblewrap and camembert and car journeys at night
It’s arguing until my face goes blue even though my brother’s right,
And it’s when they thought I’d never do it, that irrepressible smile when I did,
It’s the gap-toothed, freckled face I always resented as a kid,
It’s the terrors of my past that seemed so important then,
It’s to knowing how daft I was and the phrase “Remember way back when...”

: 05 Feb 2010 15:53 |  Tags: Poetry |  Comments (0) |  Close comments |  Report a problem

… but I do love you.

I love you ardently, violently. I hate to love you. I love you so much I want to strangle you in an embrace. I want to suffocate you in perpetual passion, steal your breath by the fierceness of a kiss, burst your breast with the lava of my love, break your neck with my neediness, smash your skull with my sweet nothings, pull apart your arteries with adoration, scar your face with my fondness, devour your mind in devotion, tear out your hair tenderly... but I do love you.

: 05 Feb 2010 15:46 |  Tags: Creative |  Comments (1) |  Close comments |  Report a problem