Unpacked to the floor
the past
recorded in photos and tears
the beginnings
a journey that crashed
meanwhile the rictus smiles
stay
unmoved
Author Archives: Admin
After
It might seem that there has been a gap. Also, it might seem that I no longer care. Either of these things is a true as any religion, that is, a truth about which I cannot comment. Anyway, here I am.
This was a home that I had never intended to revisit. Back when it was home – a time which now reflects a greater depth of past than a look ahead can of hopeful future – I had admired and feared it in equal measure. A place of darkness and of sanctuary, of suspicion and of happiness. A place whose presence changed with the seasons.
But isnt that the case everywhere? You can test it. The grim northern market town takes on the appearance of a continental paradise on a warm summer’s day. Try the same place in the rain, or fog, or sat alone as those around celebrate Christmas… Well, you get the picture.
The more I see the less I understand
The train passes
House after house after
Field
And tree
And construction
And deduction
Nature disposed for
The greys of
Concrete with
Yellow crane accents
A turbine
Fighting the wind offers
Hope
Before my reflected images
Shouts back in a passing train
Secrets will kill you
Or, so they say
So instead
His head was emptied, daily
Unruly and unwanted truths,
Real or not
Spilled out to those around
made permanent in the ether
False truths and true
Fantasies
Can I see?
Time machine
The stranger in
My memories
Looks back from the photos
A smile or
Grimace
Worn deep across his face as
He sees his future
Not even the ennui can fill the space inside.
Another dialogue
Look, he said.
The past is a worship of
ephemera
The future asks you to live for it.
Live for it, he thought
Staring from the sockets that windowed
the reality to which he was subscribed
The reflection looked back but said nothing
Reflections don’t understand
Start now, he said
See, a line engraved under everything that once was
His reflection grimaced, gnashed it’s teeth
the mirror’s glass a cage to this beast
It was Tuesday when they said goodbye. Packing up the car, they drove out to the edge of the cliffs. Sat. Drank tea from the thermos. Looked out.
The back of the car was full. And the boot.
They looked at each other and released the hand brake, leaping from the car just moments before it plummeted to the beach below.
Uncle had always loved making sand castles.
People keep talking about my foot.
It’s a leg end.
Donation
Optimism covers me
a charity shop coat
of memories
others’ success and
lives
already won
but it, ill fitting and
stained
is shrugged off
to be put
to one side