november 2017



...whose night portraits are these

that pass, so frictionless, through my skin


they sing in red, think in blue sepia

in colours no eyes have ever seen


so what are these inky ghosts doing here

with their indelible, paper whispers


with these stanzas that are only too ready

to anatomise the unthinkable


because at the very moment the herald’s wings

pass over the horizon


these grim pantheons always seem to disappear

down holes in the ground


and I am left staring with disbelief

at my sagging body


unable, as ever, to swallow the words

congealed in my throat


another of preterition’s old-age tricks

the frictionless ghosts


the portraits of darkness

the doorways sprinkled with blood...






...the universe is an instinct

a synonym, a figment, an excuse


driven by lust and damnation

and I hate it so, so much


its pugnacious mysticism

its indestructible terror


its alluring anger

and above all its grin


its bloodless, know-all grin

and why, because all these makeshift wonders


punch and pound my heart against a wall

and I have come to love the hate and hate the love of it


me, the tired castaway standing on a nonentity

that no human words will ever describe


the geometry, I suppose, of godly ignorance

a mathematical damnation


driven by lust

by every synonym for terror


and the agony that lies beyond...






...sometimes doubts slip unnoticed between my lips

force apart my teeth


then carefully place some sacrament on my tongue

instantly the words joie de vivre are engulfed


and I feel myself begin to dissolve

the terrifying macrophage has arrived


and I am slipping back

down into the bag of weird minerals


back to where all the words that once gripped my heart

are being shredded


and I watch as the splinters of my face

slowly drift back out to sea


what, then, is this fruit that no-one can eat

someone or something is tasting my soul


and I have, it seems, no right to know who or what

only to feel the censure of mere shadows


but no more, the time has now come to let every uncertainty

pass straight through my face


it is now time to join with the macrophage

and out-stare the world with my own solitary arrogance...