Christmas

The silence after was heavy with
the smell of clementines,
a souvenir left over
from the mornings joviality
and a cloying reminder of what had,
by now,
past;
like ants we sat in lines
as the air settled
and found its place back to where it started
and I knew then
that we all got lonely sometimes,
in spite of pleas to the contrary.

Angela Lansbury

It was almost as though
she were there again,
the room around her disappearing,
his voice melting like rice paper
on her tongue. 
Her mind danced back
to a life she had lived in lights,
one that now shone in her eyes,
and her mouth spoke the
words from her past,
a memory she had forgotten.

Christmas Party

He sipped through two glasses of wine
and poured one more as holiday music played
from the room next door
and filled the empty air with sugary sweet cheer.
He closed his eyes,
took a breath
and thought back to this morning,
before it all.
It hadn't snowed yet this year
and the bare streets outside the window
made his bones cold.

From the inside he looked

Because he hadn't always felt
fully real
he clung like wildlife to the arm of his friend
as they walked towards people;
and hoped her touch
would transmit all she had learned
from years spent taking chances.
He himself had been waiting a while
to become completely adult
and worried suddenly that it had
happened some time long before,
back when there was
so much more time.

26

I woke up
with the grey light of December
squeezing through cracks in the blind,
thinking back at when I used to take photographs
and how keen I had been once
that they be a lasting reminder
I had mattered.
I could give away all of my money
and really disappear, I think next,
recede into a Winter
that feels so much bigger
when you're in its middle.
I blow out the candles in my head
and imagine the billowing smoke
spelling out the year
above our dining room table.
Lost but still looking.

Girl on a bridge

He had pulled her out
from a past he had known once
and dusted off what they were
until it gleamed and shone
and lit up a life
that had grown small.
He sometimes held her hand now;
as if holding it tight
would keep him from being lost
again
he thought.

Julianne

The table was almost as big as the room
as we sat,
her in blue,
me in something I do not remember,
against white walls that stopped
all of a sudden
and before they really should have.
Her words like a hand beneath my chin;
I silently thanked goodness for her
and greedily took all that I could
like a boy uncertain
of when he would eat again.

Sharing you with memories (all or nothing)

I remember a video tape
I watched over and over,
him crying in a room filled
with Superman souvenirs,
California streaked through his hair.
He had seemed so much older then,
his first broken heart
leaving scars clear across his face;

I thought he knew everything.

I would haved followed him anywhere
had he asked.

It was an effortless sort of love which led them to evening, illustrated

Friends and dinner

It was in the stony grey of winter
and the cold that bit at their skin
when those who once
saw the world together
stood in one place,
tired from days forcing themselves forward,
tides turning near by.

Each whispering to fill the space.

All unsure if they'd ever be sure;
All certain of a shared history
that grew more vivid
as they grew alongside it.
The anchor
to which their ropes were tied.

Cheese

It was hard to think clearly
after all of the cheese;
and even walking
had become an issue,
as he stumbled towards
the crackers
to spread a wedge of brie
onto a wheat thin.

Train

It struck him as odd,
as the train sped through green,
that it had done so
a thousand times before,
and that the journey went on,
without him,
unchanged.

When the lights go out

He followed the car
yesterday
(and the one before)
down the same gravel road
where the man in the navy coat
and hat that didn't fit
seemed to live.
Each morning had mixed together
like paint
until one was nothing more
than another.
Paris seemed an age ago.

There is a limit to what I would do (and other possible non-truths)

If you ran from us
I would chase you for a while,
I thought
and then said out loud
to the space between here
and the television,
all the while knowing
I would only run so far
and then would probably stop
for milkshake
in some road side cafe.

A shadow

Without meaning to
I made the sound you make
when you eat something you love,
a cartoon hmmph
that conjures up
cartoon gorillas
eating
cartoon prey.
You are nowhere to be seen
but it feels like you're
everywhere.

Aftermath

I heard your voice
long after we had finished speaking
it bled
like wine in water
until the room was filled
with heavy air
outside my window
the moon clung like a smudge
to morning sky

Starting from now

It wasn't until he was stood
at the bottom of a great hill
that he saw that
what it symbolised
was even greater,
took a pen
from his inside pocket
and wrote the time on his hand
in thick, black scrawl.
A birth of sorts.

One and one and them

He pursed his lips together
and tried whistling,
the hiss of his attempt
hitting the walls
and splintering
into shards in the air.
Through the window
he saw a man struggling
with his shopping bags
and knew with certainty
that if he had been outside
the day would have ended
differently.

Beginning, middle

It was through the window of his car
with the heat turned to red
that he saw the town that November morning.
Cold air clung to grass,
undisturbed since night time,
the sky a blue that exists only in Winter.
He saw five boats on the sea
and imagined each filled with people
he hadn't met
whilst an old folk song on the radio
told him about a man and a camera
on a Grecian Isle.

The last time I was there the sun was so hot it burned holes through my t-shirt, illustrated

Cassette, illustrated

The world was on top of him

He tied the fringe of his scarf,
wrapped tight around his neck,
into plaits
and chewed his gum
in time with his fingers
until it lost its flavour
and became just a foreign body
in his mouth.
People around him spoke
of a future that was alien to him,
their voices sounding like music.

It was when he saw the Empire State up close that he knew he could only walk so far

He had been quiet,
hoping that silence
was an anecdote to size,
all the while acutely aware
that worlds only grew with time.
Reaching for his dictionary
he looked up the word 'terror'
and laughed without realising.
The sound filled up the room
and left piles of debris
below the window.

It was an effortless sort of love that led them to evening

The sky was chalky with lilac
and the trees glowed green
as they walked in unison,
their arms tied together like rope.
Rain fell and sang patterns
on the ground.

My Christmas Cards

My Christmas card designs are painted, printed and ready to be sold and if you can guess which movie each one is from then I might give you a penny.

They're on sale at Made With Love, The Ceramic Painting Cafe in Hastings or, if you're far away you can email me and I'll make sure you get one if you like.

Stood in blue jeans he thought of forever

He had only climbed the steps in the park,
now covered with a skin of wet orange leaves,
to see beyond where the trees covered
and to remind himself that all he had seen
wasn't everything there was.
His hand held tight to the key in his pocket
belonging to a door he hadn't yet found
and his mind walked somewhere off ahead,
chased by cold evening winds.

Outside a boy and a girl played hopscotch on the road

He sliced the brown envelope
back and forth between his fingers
until it caught on his skin
and tore it clean open,
watched as red oozed from the papercut,
slow at first,
and formed a pool in his palm,
its sting dancing through his inside.
It was an impossible love
that consumed all he was.
He heard the sound of next door's telephone
and counted the rings.
There were seven.

The last time I was there the sun was so hot it burned holes through my t-shirt

It was a day coated purple
when he drove the car towards
the edge of all he could see
and sat as an evening began
without him,
and would undoubtedly
end the same way.
Lights turned white to red
and back again
as hours became night
and October disappeared
for another year.
He smelt Autumn in the air
and it was warm on his face.

For you, who was never aware but continued on

You casually talk my name
and I,
with an ambivalence that was new to me,
painted myself out of a corner
and travelled back to the beginning
without
ever
even
knowing.

No Voice, No Choice on Hastings Online Times

'HOT’s Erica Smith spoke to Zelly Restorick about a short animation she has produced with her friend, Thom Kofoed.  ’NO VOICE, NO CHOICE’ is a film about the export of live animals and their journey.'

Guys, check the article out here. It explains in a little more detail our reasons behind the film and what you can do to help.

Flash

I could barely form words with my tongue
(which felt as though it filled my mouth)
so enamoured was I
by the state of your face.
And so I, embarrassed and out of depth,
merely mumbled your name
as I stumbled
to home
again.

It was alone when I felt most far away

Yesterday before I slept
I imagined myself without you,
and my stomach cartwheeled and kicked
and the air in my room
was compressed into a cube
and dropped onto my chest
and it was heavy without really trying
and cumbersome in its size
and stayed pressed upon me
until I gathered up my thoughts
and counted our days.

I woke up crying

Without trying
I remembered a play I had read
once before,
about war and empty woods,
as I walked alongside a man
I had once known clearer than myself.
A boy ate a cooking apple there
as he tried all he could
to make his way through days
far from his own design,
and as green hills grew steeper
and the man I had known so well
walked farther ahead
I saw with utter clarity
that there was only forward
and yesterday was dead.

Barack Obama was re-elected as the President of the United States...

  ...and so I painted his portrait to celebrate.

2012

The world was bigger
than the tiny choices,
but each one,
piled on top of the last,
built a platform
high enough from which
to see it all clearly
and to begin
making change.

As we continue travelling

He stood with the door open behind him
and looked out onto roads
that had once bought him here.
He grabbed blue gloves from his pocket,
pulled the fingers right side in,
and put his hands inside.
It had grown cold suddenly
and the air felt like staples on his face.
The sun was absurdly bright for the time of year.

It overlooked the water

I was never one for climbing trees
and so was surprised,
when my head rose over the bough,
that I could almost see forever
and was hardly scared at all.

A tiny birthday woodland Stoat

I think this quote might change my life

"There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all of time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and it will be lost. The world will not have it. It is not your business to determine how good it is nor how valuable nor how it compares with other expressions. It is your business to keep it yours clearly and directly, to keep the channel open. You do not even have to believe in yourself or your work. You have to keep yourself open and aware to the urges that motivate you. Keep the channel open… No artist is pleased. There is no satisfaction whatever at any time. There is only a queer divine dissatisfaction, a blessed unrest that keeps us marching and makes us more alive than the others."-Martha Graham

Somewhere in between two places

The sky had quickly turned pink
and it made the sand glow whimsical
beneath our feet.
We were an hour from sleep
and my eyes were heavy with tired.
In the distance I saw mountains.

Cassette

I had a friend once
who sat beneath my bed
and put her voice inside a tape.
'Now I'm not here,' she said,
'it's as though I never left.'
If I hadn't known better
I could have sworn I heard birds
behind her.

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

The last week in September

I woke up before the sky got light
and counted backwards from one hundred.
Trying not to blink
I said each number as crisp
as the air outside
and when I got to one
I started again.
It was seven cycles
before I ventured out of bed. 

Only until I work it out

I walked backwards
until I fell
and saw sky
where shrinking buildings
were before.
Waited as what I edged away from
crept across where I lay,
like a veil,
and settled over my eyes.
I heard leaves scuttle like crabs,
away from me.
Sometimes you have to stay
when grey really is
only grey.

When all seems lost listen for the ocean

He kept in time with the sea
as each grew tired
and slowly withdrew.
As yesterday became today
a song that had been sung for always
was swept up with the tide,
and with each crash
grew louder,
until two worlds
sang in unison.
Below grey skies
he left behind
names carved deep into wood,
truth that he had been here once,
and that all was different
because of it.

World

A need to be something bigger
breathes
and lives
and grows.
Stirs,
like thunder in angry sky
and crashes
between grey and sea
And still I keep walking.

Bound

I thought it'd help if I closed my eyes
when you said my name,
knowing the past cannot colour what you say
behind the dark.
And for a minute it worked
until the weight of once before
came over me like vast stillness
and sat on my chest.
Rain filled buckets in lines by the back door
and I sang to you in an attempt
to cover the sound of lonely drips
making up pools of water.

Me without you

Once when we were one

It hadn't before dawned on me
that our days could run parallel
and that we would walk
side by side,
feeling the cold on our faces
as seasons changed
from green to orange,
without even knowing
that we walked in unison
apart
from one another.

All I can do, I will. A poem in two stages

I walked around in your shoes,
two sizes bigger than mine,
down roads and through grass,
from one town to the next.

Wanted to try and better understand
how you feel the world each day,
because I want to know all of you
starting from the beginning.

By clumsy design

He spent the morning
with his eyes closed
between traffic lights and tide,
his embarrassed face
warmed by early sunlight.
As cars moved beyond him
and the pale moon became paler still
he took a sip of bottled water
and imagined him there,
waiting
in Autumn
and red shoes.

Probably mysterious, probably not

You introduce me to people
as though weights hang from your tongue
and the words trip over one another,
as though your mouth is filled with coins,
and you bumble
your way through my name
and tumble across each letter and sound
and still I cannot tell
if I should be charmed or not.

Over and over until it was through

There had grown a distance
between a person and a person
that was bridged only
by their need to not be alone,
and each travelled
back and forth
across this span that separated them
until eventually the gap
grew too big for walking
and they were stood, like planets,
apart.

I love you because

I had reached out
and rested my head on your head
and pressed down with my weight
until your neck folded in half
and you made a sound
I hadn't heard before,
but was like food that fed me
and made me strong.

Only when I fell outside of time did I reach for you

I sat with my head on your chest
whilst the radio played lonely songs,
and you sang the chorus
each time it played
and laughed a little
when you muddled words
until I fell asleep
in time with your breathing
and woke again when it was dark.

A poem prompted by history

I have woken up only too aware
that I stand on the shoulders
of those who fought before me
and so I must live my life fully,
in memory of theirs
if nothing else.

It was a history that never had been

Luke Perry worked in a clothing store
that sold flannel shirts
and dresses made from lace.
Some friends and I would take ourselves there
when it got time for closing
and sit with him as he swept the floors.
Once he was done
he would turn off the store lights
and we'd all lay by the t-shirts
and laugh about things that weren't funny.
He'd wear a white vest
and look at me sometimes
so I could see that I made him happy.
I would always smile back.

Teen Idol #4

Marty McFly from Back to the Future is a pretty cool guy.

He practically invented Rock n Roll.
That makes him worthy of being Teen idol #4.

Once when I was lonely

I was lying in my bed
as rain fell outside where I was
and played music on the window,
until each drop became an orchestra
and performed a symphony
til morning.

Teen Idol #3

Kelly Taylor

She's practically my hero

Beverly Hills 90210

Class of 93

A night by the seaside

I drove home alone
and listened to a lady sing
music from her past
that made her seem so sad.
The moon shone hazy
and made everything turn yellow.
I felt like an empty balloon.

You were inside my mind though I hadn't given you a passing thought before

Only when I noticed
that my arms wrapped tight around
something that was make believe
did my eyes cry water
and continued to do so
until I was tired enough again
to sleep.

Teen Idol #2

My heart belongs to Kelly Kapowski.

Now, then, always.

Advice #5

When the day runs
in the opposite direction
to the one you hoped it would
bear in mind
that soon
it will be your past
and you'll almost undoubtedly
remember none of it.

Teen Idol #1

I've started a new series of paintings called 'Teen Idols'.

I'm going to paint a bunch of teen idols from the 1980s and 1990s. It seemed to make sense to start with Judd Nelson aka John Bender from the film 'The Breakfast Club'.

And so I did.  

All that we can take from endings we must take

It has become clearer
since more days have collected behind us
that distance isn't promised,
nor can it be earned.
Though,
with my thoughts willing me forward
I'll carry on regardless,
knowing it is the only choice
any of us really have.

I came face to face with a large, black rhino

I came face to face with a large, black rhino and stood,
with my eyes fixed on his,
as though we were no different at all,
and in doing so
I came to know for certain
that we were both built
with the same hands
and that the same heart beats in us both
no matter where in the world
we walk.

Oprah told me to

I've finally decided to listen to what Oprah has been telling me. I made a poster as a constant reminder.

Prints available.

Against my better judgement I sit and wait for night as though resolution will come with the sunrise

I cannot be happy for you
knowing that I lived half a life,
like a bird who walked to ocean
and never felt sky beneath him. 

Whilst you and I
are the same below skin,
mine is no thicker than paper
and serves me well
only some of the time.

And so today,
I cannot be happy for you
and it is a problem
for which I have no solution
no matter how long I consider it.

When I am lost, a print

I've decided that I'm going to start making prints again.
This is my first foray back there.
I like to make tiny reminders for people that I need them, no matter where I am.

Prints are available if you like that too. Send me an email.

I have made a promise to you, illustrated

Busy making change

Too preoccupied
making things better
it almost went unnoticed
that the world kept turning
in the mean while.

Lunch

I didn't notice
that you looked at me
in a manner that suggested
I wasn't merely in your way
and that in fact you would perhaps
like me to be more in your way,
but apparently you did,
and I think that's
pretty cool.

Full of an idea of what tomorrow is

I had not before thought of the sun
as a ball of fire,
nor considered the wreckage
it would leave
if it fell,
red and molten,
from where it sat
into the playground
as we walked
and ran
and went about our day to day.

A door has closed

I listened to her on the radio
and hoped each word wasn't her last,
knowing already it was only borrowed time
and it had past already.

19812

It was the way warm air smelled,
as we stood inside night sky
so paper thin I swear
I could've torn fingers clear through it,
that made behind my eyes fill up with water
until I could do nothing
but surrender myself to the minutes
until each one was over.

I have made a promise to you

Then,
I had fallen out of time,
walking without direction about my days
inside portraits that didn't fit and
amongst those whose blackness
wrapped tight around my eyes
so light was lost.

You
are my champion

and I am reminded
that with us, no blackness is unending,
and I am more when we are two.
I have found strength stood in your shadow
and whatever you cannot do,
I will.
You have given to me happiness.

It was a happiness I could not find alone.

Though I hadn't been ready the seasons changed until ten were gone

I had sat
and watched
as each of their faces
became part of mine
and felt my inside change
as their days did.
Goodbye clung desperate
to the inside of my mouth
hoping if it held tight enough
I wouldn't let it go
but it was all that was left
and holding on to it
only made me heavier.

I will try and sing loud enough for her when quiet is too frightening a concept

She sang songs
and told stories I didn't know
so I wouldn't see that I was stuck
halfway between walls that had been there
longer than I had been afraid of them,
and walked me upwards
towards blue space
that I could fit inside a thousand times over,
until it was clear that with her
I needed only to keep walking
towards the promise of sky
and light
again.  

I carved holes with my hands big enough to sit inside and wait

It was only when I noticed
that the ground hadn't moved
though you spoke to me
as you had so many times before,
that I knew it made little sense now
and what was,
was done.

Two portraits

It takes only a momentary shift to change the eyes with which you see the world

I had begun to see
that I was a small,
tiny piece
that would never meet every person
or hear each language spoken first hand
and it didn't trouble me
for as long as anticipated.

Good for nothing type of brother

Too difficult to eloquently explain anything
when Destiny's Child lyrics
are running like rapid waters
through my head
leaving me to mistakenly believe
I am a black woman with attitude enough
to level a tower block.

Around the same time

I sat next to a man
who had hands the same as yours
and watched as he wrote long curling words
onto the side of a receipt
that he had pulled from the inside pocket of his jacket.

HELP ME FIND HIM, I'M BEGGING YOU

www.someoneintheworldislookingforyou.blogspot.co.uk

I am a Scientist of your face

I have spent too often
drawing lines on your face
in a scientific sort of way
in order to study it
more accurately
and work out exactly why
I absolutely cannot
stop looking at it
even when I bother to try.

I had wished it before but today it felt real like I had remembered for the first time

My presence had only been bought to her attention
by the clicking of my camera and
though it felt important to stay part of the furniture
I felt my face blush red as she looked to where I stood,
young and unaware of how my body moved.
I could do little to dissuade her gaze and so I smiled
and fixed my eyes on a painting hung on the wall behind her.
I'm sure it was a famous print but I couldn't say for sure.
If I wasn't entirely convinced that my voice had long since left my body
I would have attempted to start a conversation
but as it was I could do little more than stop my body from betraying me
as it shook at the reality of her,
being there,
being herself,
as the light outside began leaving the sky.

As her eyes filled with water that drowned all living things

I never would have held her hand
if I hadn't thought I could walk along side her
through days that made a big picture
too hard to see.
From then on she had occured to me differently and,
careful not to translate what her eyes said
into words that could never fully appreciate
what she felt,
I walked,
muted and steadfast,
hoping that in my faith
she would find her own
and could see beyond the grey
to silver again.

Inevitably I was first on my mind

It seemed shallow
to be concerned about how my hair looked
when we sat face to face
over empty bowls
and you spilled secrets that nobody knew
and that you never wanted to tell,
until now.
But I was nonetheless
and I craned my neck to see my reflection
in your glasses as you spoke.

It had only become clear once the lights had gone out

I was wearing a blue t-shirt
when we spoke letters in the dark
as winds blew,
though the night had been mild.
You blew kisses
that dissolved in salty air
before they could reach me
and I counted coins
loose in my pocket.
I had six.

Only I can walk under the weight of my own thoughts

I asked too many questions
and ran like prey from answers.

Fell asleep with my head in the space your body made,
staring at statues.

Drew a tomorrow with your fingers.

I would never leave you standing
and I envy you.

I speak often of once

I tied plaits in my hair
and remembered
how you took stones
and made neat piles
around my bare feet,
dry from the sun,
and promised
that I wouldn't always be stuck.

Some pages from a book I kept in Rome

It is on hold until then

There is so much colour
inside each finger,
so many things that I have seen
in the days since
that I feel important enough
to commit to history.
And then there is
synchronised diving.
And it has all of my attention.
And so the memories
will have to wait
until it is done
and that's just how it is.

I am there, even when the darkness hangs like one thousand doors between us both

I know it ain't easy when your soul cries out for higher ground

I could have written this better.
Each line would have been heavy with meaning
and laden with heartfelt sentiment.
Literally dripping with feeling.
That's if I hadn't spent the last two hours
singing Think Twice by Celine Dion
in a French accent
to anybody who would listen.

Your salivary glands release saliva, a fluid that contains various enzymes

I have so many feelings
about so many things
that if I were to eat them all
one after the other
in quick succession
I would immediately
expel them from my body
and be left standing
in a puddle of my own mess
still none the wiser. 

When I hold your hand I feel like flying

There is us because
I too am familiar with the side of the moon
that hangs gloomily in black,
face to face with unending
and nothing else
and the thought frightens me
more so than I could measure in handfuls
or anything else for that matter.

Three steps into what is next

He laid out everything
he thought he needed
in piles by the door
and put what was left
of the life he had before
in bags sealed with brown tape
behind the sofa.
He felt it was time and
only then had it all started.

I had planted my feet and buildings grew upwards around me

You said 'You're never easy'
in between rain and still clouds
and I gave you my smile
cos there was nothing else
except the clothes I had on
and the coins I held in my hand.
'You changed simply because the years did'
I wasn't sure I wanted to be free.

I am there, even when the darkness hangs like one thousand doors between us both

She laid in darkness
and nothing else,
delicately whispering down telephone lines.
And each word she spoke
marched off into night time
in rows like ants
and marched faster still
until their tiny feet
slid effortlessly upon sinking sands
and turned quickly to wings
that fluttered and hummed
down long roads
and through fields grown high with yellow
and the momentum grew
and the hum
began to sing my name
and echoed
against the empty vast skies
that kept me from her
until the calls reached the window
in the room where I lay
and hovered there
waiting for me to whisper back
and send them on their way
to her, again.

When I saw Joni Mitchell I cried wet tears that wouldn't stop

I climbed, dizzier still
into a love where crowds stood
with pencils in their hands
and the sounds of their voices
like melodies.
When I saw Joni Mitchell
I cried wet tears that wouldn't stop
and she collected them
in the pages of a book
like each tear was a religion
that could be followed
to divinity.
At least thats what she said
as yellow leaves fell from trees
that hissed as winds blew.

Now and then are not mutually exclusive

I could have sworn
the smell of crepes
danced from one end of the room
to the other
until it found me
in the spot where I stood
and lingered there
until it was clear
that here wasn't Paris
but that Paris existed still,
outside all of what Wednesday had become.

Sow, illustrated

A compass with which to bring forth tiny connections

When it got complicated for a second
I tied knots around sticks
with string wrapped around my waist
so as not to lose my way to here
from some place else
where grass had grown
taller than where my eyes could see
and I would be reminded
that I had forgotten my name,
or what it meant,
in a world that grows bigger than unending.
Each night I stood close to fires
so the heat could warm my skin
and turn it red
and the amber flames might burn inside of me
and the light they made could fill my eyes
and it could be great.
He and her whispered what they had learnt
into glasses that were only half empty
and I drank up each one
until both they and I were full
and I was heavy enough to be the bottom line
from which to build upwards into sky.

9712

It has been not much more than
a collection of pregnant pauses
that bore only shadows
where light once lived.

86,400

There are
eighty six thousand
four hundred seconds
in every day.
With the fifty seven thousand
six hundred seconds
I have had already today
I have drunk four glasses of squash
and done not much else
of any importance.
My hair looks pretty alright.
That's something.

Sow

That it exists at all
outside of my each and every day
is enough for now
because knowing that it is there
is like planting seeds in soil
sure that flowers will grow
in their place.

California, waiting for water

It hadn't dawned on me before
that the ocean in town
was the same
as the waters calling for me there
and that each flow of the tide
must flow sorrowful
knowing that it ebbed
further from days
when we had been face to face
instead of standing
on the opposite sides of everything

waiting

as love and distance grew
with each passing cycle.

A tiny promise

I will walk along side you
and draw lines with my fingers
in the air
if you are lost
and it is all I can think of to do.

If I was brave you would love me, attempt number four

I'm going to fly inside a plane with you
and when we are in the air
I'm going to hold onto your shoulders
and tell you
love I never could on the ground
cos in the sky
we are neither here nor there
and the consequences of my confessions
seem almost imaginary.

Hungry people and broken dreams

To be clear
I am only jealous of the people who get to spend a lot of time with you.
A lot of time being, like, more than an hour.
And of the kids you went to school with.
And maybe of the teachers a tiny bit.
And of the phone operators who phone to offer you loft insulation during dinner.
And of any shopkeeper that you have ever given money to
and whose eyes may have looked at your eyes when you said thank you
and they said you're welcome
and who you may have smiled at as they put the products you had purchased into a carrier bag.
And of the bus driver who may have driven the bus that one time you may have had to get the bus
because your car was being fixed.
And of the man who fixed your car.
And who sat where you sit and put his hands
on the steering wheel that your hands have touched.
And of the handbrake for that matter.
And of your toothbrush.
And of any glass you have sipped water from.
And of the gloves you wear when its cold.
And of the scarf you tie round your neck and that you sometimes tuck your chin and mouth inside when the air is bitter.
Oh to be that fucking scarf.
And I am jealous of you most of all.
You who gets to spend more time with you than anybody else.
You who gets to see you when you look in the mirror
and who gets to say 'thats me' when pointing at photographs that you're in.
You who gets to wake up each morning oblivious to the fact that I spend most of my days thinking about how jealous I am that I don't get to wake up next to you.
I'm probably jealous of your pillow too.
And by probably I mean without any doubt whatsoever.

One hundred and forty

The sky,
un ruined by street lamps,
unfurled into future 
that wasn't promised to us,
but invited us in
as we sat,
talking loud behind glass.

A step forward

Entirely yours

Interpret

In my dream I was in a room
with a swimming pool
and there were crowds
in arm bands and goggles
and there was no gap for me to swim
and I was two hours late for an appointment
but I waited my turn anyway
and I was still waiting when I woke up.
I doubt it means much of anything.

Human

That there 
are people
who care so little
for people
and who find solace
in their unhappiness
and who seem content
to wrap themselves
in self
and live
knowing
that we lost our way
back to each other,
and are fine to stop the search,
fills me with a sort of dread
that is so consuming
I can do little more than
sit as it rises like water
and swallows all the air
in the room where I sit.

End

And now I am sitting on the other side
and waiting,
as if waiting was akin
to digging my feet into the ground,
and that in doing so
I could turn today into 
once before
and start from then,
over,
and live inside each minute
knowing each one
would build hours
that would shape
who I was bound to become
in the days after those 
I was trying to dig holes
down into
so my feet would have a place to rest
and so I would have the time
to come to terms with what I already knew.
That the days had already become my past
and I was living inside a ghost,
floating between worlds
that neither started or ended
where the others began.

A step forward

I made a decision
and,
without thinking reasons no,
said yes
and went regardless
of reasons not to
and the time had come
and the plates had shifted
and that's how I knew
that Rome was the answer. 

This instead of that

Days are filled with words
instead of actions
and when the balance shifted
I looked clear
of the debris that was left behind
and imagined myself free
from its consequence.

July sees change

I am no different than he.
Made up of the same parts and
living in the same time,
albeit with different eyes,
and yet he takes strides
and projects forward
what he wants forward to be
whilst I sit
frightened it will never be
what I thought it might become
if I were strong enough to try.
It has to change.
I will make the change
and the change is coming.

We were then and we remain then, even when the tides change

I am not a great side of me
when you stand in front of me
with my days held in pink hands
and ask if I want to walk
to where the sea was
when the sun came up
and wait until it comes back
and makes a home around our feet.
I am not a great side of me
because I say yes
and I can't anymore
and I shouldn't have
as much as I did.

It is what it is

It recently dawned on me, 

recently being about forty seconds ago,

that life is almost entirely meaningless 

and all of the goals we set

are just ways to fill time

until we die. 

Whatever it takes

He tucked his shirt into old black trousers,
ran a comb through his hair,
looked into the mirror,
took a box of matches from the draw by his bed
and put them into his top pocket.
He had decided to live today in honour of James Dean
and as he slid his arms into his coat
he swore for a moment that he heard him whisper
that it was going to be fine.
The sky was the colour of sand.

Before, after

He climbed into the back of the car,
lit a cigarette with a match
and watched as ashen smoke filled
the space between glass and leather.
As the car danced through traffic
he rolled a window down half way,
let the city lure the grey ribbons
into its arms
and blinked more often than he needed to.
It was a little before 6.30.

Flight 52:12, A journey through the Jubilee years

I'm in a show, Flight 52:12, A journey through the Jubilee years, at The Stables Theatre in Hastings on June 22nd and 23rd. I have painted the Queen from each decade to celebrate her reign, each of which will line the Theatre walls. Prints will be available to buy if you so choose and I think I'm going to make some greetings cards also, just in case.

Thanksgiving

Thank goodness
for those who put their
hands under your chin
and point your face
towards an up
that,
for longer than a second,
you had forgotten
was even there.

A beginning of sorts

It started
and so he waited

and in that time he was branded
broken in two halves
by those who knew him once before.

He had walked to the building
and passed flowers growing
through cracks in the wall.

It had reminded him of them,
that morning everything had.

As he walked he grew tired
and was fast forgetting
it hadn't always been a chore.

That had made him more sad
than anything else.

All day

I am a wreck

that you could not love,

and did not insist

on an alternative.

Your hands are clean

and your eyes look upwards

and your heart is light. 

And I am weak and small 

and mine is heavy and filled with questions

that never had answers at the beginning,

nor beat resolution in time with my breath.

I am an awkward silence 

that cannot forget

I am alone. 

I am alone. 

4.50

It was twenty minutes
after half past four
when he closed the window
and walked backwards
down a corridor
that was lined with photographs
that meant more than the memories
that were inside of them.
'Whatever you can't do, I will'
he had said
but words weren't always
what one was listening for
and they had fallen short
of just enough,
again.

Said and done

'I painted tears on your cheek'
he had said once,
'and I couldn't do us happily
and I won't live inside of you
or through you,
behind your eyes
looking out,
and I was not free
though I told you I was
and it was all that I wanted
underneath what I had.
But I looked in the wrong place
and then stayed there.
I love you and it doesn't matter.'
He paused,
took my shoulders in his hands
and pressed down a little.
'We told the wrong story
and that's all there is to it.'

Learnt

It has been made crystal
that there is a picture
much bigger
than the one I have been
walking around inside
and building walls upwards
towards a grey sky
with the ideas I had,
and that when we step in unison
we grow paths
and breathe forwards
and climb over
what is perceived to be
most in our way
and I knew it to be true
before today
but I closed my eyes
and imagined a new truth
where one
was more than plenty
and was all that I needed.

Epiphany

It is never absolute
and there is not one way
to get from here
to a there
that has been nurtured
by a past
that had been lived
inside a light that shone
cheering
louder than the ones
who told you that
what you had was plenty
and that you should
rest easy
with what there is
already.

We'll be even

I am never everything all at once
and when I'm close to falling
I thought you could
wrap your arms
under mine
and hold me there for a while
if the heavy gets too much
and I am tired.
If that means I am weak
then I am powerless to change.
I need you
and that's what is real
for the time being.

This morning I thought

I have taken all the words you've spoken
and laid them in lines along the floor.
Rearranged each one
and moved them
next to a word they'd never seen before
so that you finally would have said
what I wanted you to since then
and the day could start differently.

It never worked

I have sat in the corner
of what is quiet
and watched,
still,
expecting those I hoped
knew
to know already
for longer than half of my days
and I am tired
and it isn't working
and I am lost
and out of ideas.

Idiocy in times like these

Foolish is the man
who uses a needle and thread
to sew imagination to truth
until it drapes from
one end of his day to the other
and hangs heavily over
all there is
until one doesn't exist alone
and there is only sorrow
when the fabric wears thin
and his life is proven to be
mostly make believe.

With scissors I cut leaves

With scissors
I cut leaves and shoots
out of the love letters
and planted the beginnings into
soil near my home
so they'd be new
and would grow up
walls built from habit
that I have lived inside
since there was a pen in my hand
and the roots would force each brick
to crack and weaken
so I could become strong in its place
and start again.
It seems only to make sense
to do what I can
until I am face to face
with the person I would've been
had I not wasted time
looking in vain
with eyes that were not mine.

Flight 52:12

So that you know

There are minutes that
compared to those before
are lack lustre and blue,
limping sadly towards
a then that is done.
And then there are those
that are embarrassingly rich
and full
of reminders
of what can be built
when you walk forward
knowing only too well
that the balance
isn't always
in your favour.

Until then, us

When I grow up
I will be inside your arms
and you will walk me
to the edge of what I know
and paint something
new
until we are in a world
made up of what we are,
together.

An obvious answer

There must be
a family of moles
living inside where
my brain
used to be,
burrowing and gnawing
and making themselves at home
amongst tissue
and matter,
cos my head is heavy
and I feel sick
and I can't think
of a more likely scenario
than that.

Lemons into lemonade

When your body flounders
and all that you have
is your voice
then bellow
and roar
and do not be quietened
by imminent conclusion.
Let it cast forward light
to illuminate all that you never said
and bask there
until the words restore your might
and tomorrow's burden is lifted.

Advice #4

There is nothing easy
but there is
regardless
and you can only
weave through
all that is left
dancing past shadows
until it is gone.

Entirely yours

My adoration for you is so
embarrassingly whole,
so complete in its form,
each line defined,
sharp and polished,
that it could be
seen and
identified
from towns ten over from here,
glowing boastfully and
basking in its own shine,
in spite of my pleading
to the contrary.

Him

I love Ronald Reagan very much.

End of post.
Sent using BlackBerry® from Orange

And when the time comes, illustrated

It was initially in reaction to the passing of Amendment 1 in North Carolina which banned gay marriage in the state but it soon became a plea to everyone to stop focusing on our differences and instead start focusing on the things we have in common. All of us are human and nothing else.

Beginning

It did not break.
It was just blown away
and I travelled along with it,
planted my feet when the wind stopped
and began growing a new life there
away from where you stood.

Thought you should know

If I could live inside your pocket
for a lifetime or more
then I most certainly would.
I would make a home
in the pouch of your shirt
so I would be near your heart
and would feel every beat
through the fabric
knowing for sure
that each beat was for me
and only me.

In spite of myself

I'm going to write
my sigh on a piece of paper
and fold it a thousand times,
until its smaller than a single penny,
and put it inside a box
and run to the middle of the woods
and dig a hole
all the way to China,
almost,
and put the box with the note inside
into the ground
and cover it in soil
and then run until I'm out of breath
and the woods are out of sight
and I'm far away from it all
because I miss you
and I don't want anybody to know.

How you knew what I was thinking

You sat covered in books
and scraps of paper
with the words
of great writers
scrawled carelessly
in black pen
on every line
as the light outside
disappeared behind houses,
and every now and then
glanced over at me
as I ran my fingers through my hair
and paced towards the window
and back again.
'You're never far from forever,'
you said
'no matter where you stand.'

Love is like falling

I kissed your mouth
to mark the spot
and to remember
and the taste of cigarette smoke
travelled from yours
into mine
and I knew I couldn't stay
and I'd never leave if I did
and I felt your weight on me
as we stood in each others arms
balanced
on a long arc
between then and now.
That night
you slept soundly
and I missed you.

And when the time comes

And when the time comes
that what you thought
begins to tarnish and rust
and the burnished flecks
of what you believed
inevitably
lay piled on the ground
I hope only that
in their place
a white light appears
and is fed
until it grows wider
than your narrow
point of view
and you see that
friction causes fires to burn
and that fire destroys
without exception.
Time won't stand still
waiting for you to catch it up
and you needn't be standing on
the wrong side of history
when what is certain
takes both of your hands
and pulls you into a living
that recognises
that we all rise and fall
and that
there is only harm
to be done
when we hold onto
what seperates us.

What I realised

I thought maybe I was dying
because I am as tired as I was
yesterday
and I've slept since then.
But I soon remembered
that being me is exhausting
cos I'm a dick most of the time
and my body just needs to catch up
with my mouth
and then I didn't think I was dying
anymore.

Smoke

I hope there isn't only
silence
that sips up
sound
after,
since today it seems certain
that even
love can break
and that devotion
doesn't promise eternity
no matter who you pray to.
There is only bones
and skin
and air
and a loneliness
that takes its place
when it is done.
Winter is gone
but its chill is sat on my shoulders
with its hands around my neck
and it is whispering
'everything dies'
into my ear
and I will continue to love you
even knowing what I do
and we'll make a home
inside of it
until we are smoke.

I only ever wanted a story

I found salvation there
behind where your eyes sat
and laughed at the idea
of being anywhere else.

It was not my home.

The elephants are on my desk but they live inside my heart

Idea #1 Illustrated

Weep

I can't be here alone
but please don't speak.
Just feed me words
until I'm full again
and don't feel like giving up.

I miss the way your eyes are.

Post weekend

Last night I spoke to no one
as I lay in bed
but I spoke nonetheless
and fell asleep
between sentences
to trick my mind
into thinking I was still there
and that you were there
beside me
talking back.

Weekend

We are going to laugh as hard
as the photograph
and hold hands a little
and maybe skip through green
and drink coffees
made of soy
and talk in puns
and act obnoxiously for no reason
and call each other names
that we only mean a little bit
and eat biscuits in bed
even though
eating biscuits in bed is gross,
and probably unhygienic
by some standards,
and dance for a while
in the kitchen
whilst dinner is cooking
and go to galleries
that cost no money
in top knots
and cardigans
and high tops
and each day will fall in love with us
and will be envious of the next
and we'll have one another in each
as we do always
but for a while
we'll live in each others pockets
and it will be fucking rad.

Idea #1

I have decided to stand here
with a flower in my hair
and a banner in my hands
held high above my head
which reads
'I am here'
cos you seem to be having trouble
finding me
and I want to help move this on
a little
if I can.

Cycle

I am losing my breath
face down in shallow waters
that I cannot find my way out of
and though
the water is not endless
it is deep enough
to be mightier than I
and its grip on me is tighter
than the grip I have on any bid
for freedom.
It is not new
but it is now
and I will wait
breathless
until the water freezes
with the night air
and melts away
with the sunrise
tomorrow.

A tiny change of mind

I am going to walk
through each day
from now
with my arms open
and my eyes open
knowing full well
that opportunity
multiplies
when you are ready
to receive it.

You were there

I dreamt of you
then
and I'm thinking
about you
now
and my mind is gone
because there is nothing
inside of it
but your face
and the sounds you make
when you laugh
and I want to hold your hands
as you tell me the things
you told me
whilst I slept
and you didn't know
you were there.

Things instead of other things that are probably better

I've spent my day
putting whole pink wafers
in my mouth
and singing Janet Jackson's
'Nasty'
whilst wearing a high visibility vest
and drawing felt tip hearts
on the back of a photocopy
of Marilyn Monroe
reading a book
that's bigger than her face,
when all I wanted
was to hear from you
and to start
a new conversation.

What I know for sure

If I met the me
I was in
nineteen
ninety
four
and had a moment
to tell him everything
I had learned
in the years
since being him
and becoming me
I would waste
most of that time
being distracted
by the fact that
nineteen
ninety
four
me
was wearing
shorts
over his
trousers.

Not long now

When you are back
I'm going to hold
your head
between
my hands
until Carrie
lulls us into sleep
and we wake up
to pancakes
and days
filled with empty hours
for us to do with
as we please.

You are only an ocean away
but I wish you weren't.

Only if you're staying

Do you notice when I'm sad?
Or do I play the same part
in your day to day?
A constant drip of water
that never collects
anywhere.
I miss you
and
there is nothing to run from,
still I can't sit
until you leave
if you're going to.
There is war
and
there is peace,
both of which are two sides
of the same coin
and will each come eventually
for a while at least.
I won't make a home in either.
I don't see how I can.

Advice #3

It is big
when you realise
that you are not seperate
from the one thing
that you imagine
to be holding you back
and that
you can take steps forward
in spite of it
instead of trying to
leave it behind.

What I found after

I hold up an empty glass
and toast to you
in a room that is empty
save for the pieces of you
that you left behind
when you ran away.
I was never all that you wanted
in spite of being
everything that I am
and 'thank you'
is the only thing
I can think of to say.

Dear Reader, I need your help

If, for any reason, you are even the slightest bit invested in how successfully I live my life please fill in this tiny form on your computer somehow and email me your answers to thomkofoed@ymail.com
I'm trying as hard as my mind will let me and I need your help because I don't know what else there is left to do.

                                  

A truth

My shoulders won't hang evenly
at the top of my back
and the rest of my body
is heavy with a grief
that I never recognised
until all the windows closed
and we were face to face.
My face feels differently in my hands
than it did in yours
and solitude was unwelcome
but uninterested as
it sat and told me
that its all about courage
and nothing about drive.
I'm not always sure
I have either and
I want to climb down from here
and light a candle
for each person I thought I would become
but was too weak to find the gap
between him and him
to try any harder than I did.
I am not miserable,
I am frightened
and consumed by it
entirely.