Sunday, 18 August 2013


Twenty brands of cornflakes
On the supermarket shelf.
A myriad minor choices -
"But is there something else?"

Sixty flavours of jam,
A hundred kinds of pop.
Tons of trivial choices -
But only one place to shop.

Friday, 16 August 2013


I bought you coffee -
always did on Sunday morning at the Clock Cafe.
We'd sit at the window people watching,
sometimes you'd mock me and say,
"Don't you have any mirrors at home",
or "Ooo don't look now, spot the gay".
My retort was just as bad,
"You bitter old queen -
they all think you're my dad!"

But that was another Sunday thirty years ago.
Today the repartee has worn a little thin,
resting on the counterpane,
the silent testimony to your years with him.

I'm in so few of those casual snaps,
fact is I took them all -
except the one you sneaked unposed,
where I was naked and stretched
across the rocks, Cretan boys were diving
from the docks and came out
blurred into the background.

An obvious eye for the boys
you'd always qualify it and say,
"you're not a flash-in-the-pan
you're up there among the men,
you're special to us". I wanted to ask
was that picture of me or them?
But I already knew the answer -
It was probably both! Such an appetite
for love. An infinite capacity
for mayhem.

I didn't quite see it like that back then.
You could say my position has evolved,
because now I believe everything
you said - the jealousy dissolved.
And I don't know if it's the medicine talking
because you ask if I loved you
equally. I thought you deserved the truth
and when I said I loved him more -
You put it down to callow youth,
"but thanks for sticking around!"

then so generously added,
"he loved you too, you know"
He gripped my hand as if his
life depended on what was coming next
"you're not in the album much
and I see why?", and you know what
he's right. "We always let you take the pictures.
You were camera shy".

For A Second I Forgot #2

I counted my achievements
there were not too many,
on dismal mornings such as this
I cannot think of any.

The ticking of the clock
at the centre of my drama
for a second i fogot
its arbitrary measure

For a second I forgot
in the expanding minute
my burden might be heavy
but there is nothing in it.

For a second it's accepted
with complete concession
the contingent and connected
empty of all mission

For a second there resigned
all urge and aspiration,
no weight or value was assigned
no number or ambition.

For a second i forgot
and there was no resistence
for a moment I was locked
within the flow of all existence

Listen to For A Second I Forgot here

For A Second I Forgot mp3