september  2016




...for years the nights have overrun my sleep

with deception, sex and lies


with unrepentant criminals

and the dark focus of human revenge


just a wee selection y’ken

of the firmament’s host


laughing behind the curtains

this gang of interstellar bastards


who come and go

with their chainsaws through my head


when all I have ever wanted

is to have infinity as my lover


and to feel the obscenity of its terrifying weight

up hard against my body


but instead I have been colonised

by a fatal brood


and most nights I can feel them

moving around beneath my skin


their little, hot teeth

cutting out some triumphal arch


just above my heart

the firmament’s dark focus


the curtain between myself and revenge...







...what do these clouds bring

as they swirl about the tower


and glide so hushed between my bones

what is this reticence, this shy discomfort


that creases my skin

is it love’s muted anxiety


or just a lifeless planet’s titanic solitude

hanging in the sky


an effortless whisper

the one apocalyptic word ‘why?’


I wish I knew

for if I could speak the cloud’s tongue


this dissembling narrative

might just breach the untamed truth


seething beneath my feet

the miles and miles of fossilised sex


the caverns full of frozen hearts

yet this is no time


for the cloudy magic of words

dissent lies at the foot of the tower


its back broken apart

and my love’s whisper


still hangs in the sky

still creases my skin


with its reticence

its wonder, its ‘why?’...






...I want no dreamy idols to encase my mind

no brilliant ghosts to shadow me into daylight


I have become an eclipse

a tremor, a sonnet


threaded to the universe

an incoherent thug


standing alone always

my toes curling the outermost edges of reality


do I then leap in order to live

and maybe out-face all the boundaries


I have ever crossed and loved

or do I see in this breathless cauldron


the illicit dust of every dead mind

coming to claim me


a hectic, incoherent tremor

an eclipse that tries to break


this lattice of iron words

crowding my soul


I have become the ghost with no mind

no heart, no world


a sonnet threaded to the universe

what, my friend, has become of you...