16 May 2018

Gone




Ideas for poems come 
At the most inopportune times
Often while lying flat in bed
That one
Second
After you have stared at the
White paint
Ceiling for an hour
And just
Before your eyes close

This always happens
Not formed prose
But rather seeds
A title
A block of marble awaiting
The chisel

But then like the rain
The words slow and are in an instant
Gone
And darkest night falls
Like a weight as your forehead
Once full of promise
Is filled instead with useless dreams
Of joy and superpowers and
Gardens in the
Sun.



4 May 2018

Unfinished business



A small cat jumping across my skull
Inside and around it

A Catherine wheel on the brink of
Petering
Out

Filter malfunctioning
The tap fully open
Ideas cascading out into
The dead night
Air

I do not try to stop them
Get them out, I say
I am unburdened now
And ignorant and playful

Only the kitten remains
Pawing at its ball of string.