Two poems

The noise of loneliness
As if by trickery, malevolence rides a wave of openness
and teaches us again that
some won’t receive what’s due to them by innuendo,
strange.
I learned too late that the pain of relating
can exceed the damage of being alone
But is there a way to the nirvana of disclosure,
(the ‘unjudging’ lap of comforting)
without the pain surrounding this noise of loneliness?

I am astride a plan of consequence until I find my way back home.


In the light of neon
The day flows like wind through the pines.
The rhythm is like the sea when the day
starts to collapse in on itself, like a lazy dog barking at itself.
This city block I see as deep, smooth walls of a well
etching meaning long over time, collecting in pools at my feet;
is rain so pure now I drink it and slap it cold in my face to see
through the eyes of an innocence lost, raw and hungry.
Birdsong and the future - every question seeks an answer but
only body hair, bird seed and the blues make immediate sense
and it is sleep that matters most and where to lie down safely
past the catcalls and the flame-throwers, to lie in the light of neon.

(by me)