Terrie

We made bookmarks at her table and I,
not old enough to ask the right questions,
revelled silently in light that started somewhere
in her middle and shone upwards and out.
Greedily, I gathered her stories in my hands
and learnt lessons she hadn't tried to teach me.
I loved what I loved
and lived days in her likeness,
and in years since,
when small things I thought I could change then
have become so big
that even the idea of their size steals my breath
I have carried those stories
and climbed upon her memory
and each time am reassured that reason exists
when seemingly there is none.

An afternoon spent idly proving myself right

Bonnie and Clyde

Powerless to fight heart,
Bonnie followed Clyde deathward
and saw burning red
singe black and smoky
as roads were left untravelled
before them.

When you do

It is the smaller things
that make up the big picture
which draw my attention most.
Like how you sometimes
rub your elbow
when you're telling me a memory.

Eellih

He had asked them to call him Eellih
in hopes that he would find in him
what he had lost
that Saturday
by the traffic lights,
when she spoke at him
what she had heard.
But their stories were the same,
though the name had changed,
and he could do little
but smile when the mood took him.

Twenty Fourth

It wasn't until he was walking down
roads lit by street lamps
that he saw time passing
as if it were a physical creature
gaining speed
along side him.

FILM QUIZ 2012

An afternoon spent idly proving myself right

I put my hand into a bag of M&Ms
and willed myself blindly to pick green ones.
Knowing that I would fail,
and that I would somehow be validated
by this failure,
I routed around without a care
until the crispy coatings
began to melt in my hand.

Two

So consumed I was
by the idea of you and I
that I let hours pass idly
without a thought of the future.

Polaroid, illustrated

Over and over until it was through, illustrated

I came face to face with a large black rhino, illustrated

One week yesterday

England knew you were leaving
and the sky rained tears
when your feet left the ground,
not slowing
til the morning broke
and covered each road
with a fog so deep you could slice
through it with your hands.

What I had begun to be sure of

I had only begun to scratch the surface
of what he was about
and though the scratches ran deep
I hadn't got as close to the middle
as I felt was important.
And so I kept scratching.
Because I had built a life long before
he had been here
and did so with what I had
and I already wanted to rely on him
fully
and speak my days through his eyes.

Wednesday in the night time

Never wanting to throw around the word
magical
he juggled anecdotes that undersold the
experience but saved face amongst friends.
The day truly had been magical,
he believed in people again
and felt free,
at least for the time being.

Tuesday in the night time

When a badger sniffed at the side of the road,
near some trees I happened to be driving by,
I was suddenly aware of my size
and felt cumbersome in his presence
as he went about his business,
none the wiser.

What is, anyway

I thought about standing
half way between where you are now
and where we met once
but realised it would make little difference
and you'd still be gone
so ate an apple instead.

The best day with you, today

It was then,
when sea and sky were separated
by a line drawn with our fingers,
that I was happiest,
and could have stayed,
with you wrapped in tiger,
until the air got so cold
we could break it with our hands.

It's really human of you to listen to all my bullshit

I put my hands inside her hands
and felt her yesterday
as if it were my own.
Together we walked as though
Midnight was only an idea
and stayed until sun bleached
the colours of passing buildings.
It was Fall and the ground was covered
with orange leaves.

Knowing that you're somewhere makes being anywhere fine

It took a little more than five minutes
for you to realise that I was home,
and you spoke as though endless ribbons
were tied to your tongue once you had,
filling the cold space with stories.
I took off my coat
and poured milk into a glass.

Teen Idol #5

I'm going to meet Molly Ringwald this evening.

That's a very big deal.

In her honour, Teen Idol #5, a series I started mostly because Molly shaped my formative years more than she could ever know, is Sixteen Candles very own Samantha Baker.

I'll never forget her.

A person and a person

I put my hand on your arm
and spelt words with my fingers
as you guessed what I spoke
on your skin.
It was dark outside
and I could hardly see your face.

White noise

Sat across from each other
we ate eggs
as though we'd never spoken before
and this was our first time at breakfast,
midweek and tired.
You reached for the salt
and I wondered how we got here.

Polaroid

Spent the afternoon
searching photographs
for the light that once followed you
and remembered that before
you were always looking for something.
I wish you hadn't stopped.

Misplaced anger

I hadn't meant to shout
when you laughed,
or whisper under my breath
that you make sick rise into my mouth
each time you speak about your life,
which means little less than nothing.
Nor had I intended for you to hear
the joke I made at your expense
as you walked from where I sat
to an almost undoubtedly boring other place
filled with boring shit I couldn't care less about.
Cos we both know I'm mad at me
and its my shit we're dealing with
and that you're just close enough to feel it all,
so let us not mention any of it.

An emerging pattern

Someone took my hand
and walked me towards
afternoons I hadn't planned
and I walked there willingly,
without being pulled,
thinking they knew me better
when they hadn't known me at all.

Fifty seven years

I would stand in James Deans garden
and shout out his letters
into night that filled him up
and through windows he sat behind,

alone,

or with someone to pass the time.

I would shout them out,
each louder than the last
until I spoke louder
than the voices that told him no.
And I would stay
until his garden filled with morning
and he felt a little lighter too.

A bee that I painted