Samhain

all souls, all souls are out tonight
the harvest's gone
the time is ripe
for sinking down to winter quiet
for slipping to the other side
where darkness drapes it's heavy cloak
to press on shoulders hunched from cold.

samhain, samhain
i'm standing here in razor breeze
all edges and corners
all eyes aglazed
all lost abroad in vacant stare
all motion held in static freeze
all driftwood washed
ashore somewhere
old souls and old memories
when they come, they come silently
creep up on you on days like these

samhain, samhain
there's cracks in the air today
they shimmer like those rippled waves
of heat on a summer's day
but summer's gone
and the air is thin
a paler blue
a softer sun
and gaps you can fit your fingers through
to reach and curl and grip onto
like curtains that you draw apart
like opening the window panes
and there they are, old souls, old hearts
like beams of light shining in
memories so clear you could almost cry
never thought you'd be there again
samhain, samhain.

maze of shoulders

A woman walks across the street,
feels feet on pavement,
presence of eyes that would meet
her gaze up only she'd lift it up
for a second look:
where are we going?
her feet don't touch the ground today
she's lost in thought, miles away.
bodies, bodies, everywhere
a maze of shoulders,
made to brush, to block:
keep to yourself.
where are they going?
she's been here before
so have you
haven't you seen the way we move?
trails in sand, spider webs
spun in circles, stranded threads
crossing, crossing, endlessly
deserts made of rolling dunes
where every grain touches many more
but wherever you stand
you're hidden from view.

we make our trails, we cross our paths
i've seen you before
we've never met
but I've been breathing your air,
been wearing your frown,
been side-stepping and looking down.
I've held your money at the bakery
I think it was you in line before me
I've drunk from the same glass as you,
your favourite bar, I've sat in your chair
I've borrowed your lighter
you didn't care
didn't even notice, I think
face forgotten in just a blink.
bodies, bodies, everywhere:
where are we standing?
we're where we've always been, she said
and slowly turned her head away
she's somewhere else today
minds, minds, anywhere but here
she asks if she can disappear
into the crowd
and the crowd calls softly back out
yes, you can
we, all of us, can spin our circles
stranded threads
deserts crossed in spider webs
I've seen you before
we've never met

pocket stones

what happens if you stop before the day you stop?
i've got people in my pockets, little stones
the only people i've ever known
all these people have been using my name
they say they're all me but they're not the same
i've got chalk and marble, granite fine
got sandstone worn away by time
got fragments broken from age old cliffs 
they catch on fingers fumbling round
pebbled weights that hold me down
fragments

my pockets are all full of stones
there's more of us in here than i care to count
there's a fork in my tongue, a great crossroads
there's barbed wire stuffed inside our mouth
whose words are they?
i don't know them and they don't know me
and yet they're all i've ever been
stop
there’s photos and scars
but they're waterproof
all surface and who knows what’s behind
i’m not sure who that was anymore
whose words are they?
catch them in the air
like a taste that’s hard to identify
swirl it in my mouth like an ageing wine
til all i've got is the urge to swallow it down

stop
i've shed my skin,

bled them out
i've been slowly replacing all of my cells

but there’s people in my pockets, little stones

sometimes i throw them out on the ground
stones like stars brought out to shine
i stand there, looking for joining lines
a thread to stitch some meaning in
like how things came from there to then
but my thread is bare
i cannot sew
line
fragment
bare
stop

i thought i'd turned my back on you
i've been red-orange-yellow-green-two-toned-blue
i thought i'd made myself anew
but there's traces stuck like hardened glue,
running between my muscles and bones
fragments
and i don't know if i should shake them loose
or if they’re what's been holding me through

well i've glued myself together so many times
i stumbled and climbed after them, blind
i've tried to be you and you and you
i tried to do what you wanted me to
like folded paper,
covered in lines
that are half out-of-sight,
but paper won't break

and i'm sitting here,
folding paper planes
filling them up with stones again
stop

Reunification Day

Letter to an ex.

Dear G.

It was nice to talk again last week, after so long, but there's been a few things on my mind, and I thought I'd just write them down in a letter. You know how you and I are with mixed communication lines.

You said that you want to get back together again, that you want to - what did you call it? reunify? Weren't you always the romantic.

You know, we're not the same as we were back then,
So I don't know what that "re" is doing there.
Reunify.
As if we could rewind. Is that what you want?
Well I'm not a tape, and you can't turn back time.
If we're going to get together, there'll be no "re":
We'll have to redefine what the real situation is between yours and mine,
Cos I'm really not sure I can read your mind,
And I don't want to repeat the same mistakes as last time.
We're going to have to get to know each other again,
Like right from the start.

You know, I've been getting by just fine on my own -
I've been going out again, been meeting my friends,
And they get me like I'm not sure you ever did,
After all that you said,
All those times we stood there, head to head,
Not knowing who was going to make the first move,
But sure as hell ready to fire back when push came to shove.
I was so surprised how we could get
So cut off from each other in so little time.
And I was never one to go breaking down walls
When they've been put there for a reason.

I've heard that you've been doing okay.
Sometimes I see you on the news,
And I wont say that sometimes I don't miss you,
But I don't know if I want all the drama again.
I don't know if we really want the same things
Out of life.
We spent so much time together,
But maybe now we've just grown apart,
And I don't know if you've really dealt with our past
In a way that I can admire.
If we're going to start over,
There's some old stuff we really need to talk through,
And to be honest, it's going to be a while
Til I can really trust you.

You say you want to reunify,
But I think I'd rather just date for a while.
And I don't know if I'll ever want to move in together again.
I think we just like to organise ourselves in different ways.
And they say love's all about compromise,
But I say this is your shit, and this is mine,
And you can deal with yours however you like,
But i'm not going to tidy up after you.
Really, i've got better things to do.
And if I catch you judging me for how I keep my things,
You can just pack your bags right up.

All this time we've been separate,
I've been using to find myself,
And all this talk about unification makes me nervous -
You might think it sounds silly, but I just don't want to lose myself.

Anyway, these are just some of my thoughts. I'd be willing to talk again if you want.

Yours, G.

Maz

it's a clear october night, one of the first
where the darkness sinks a cloak over your shoulders
before you were ready to go.
the air is cool on the skin, marks out your edges,
like holding you in.
maz is sitting at home --
been busy all week, like days in a spin of doors & chairs,
where barely in when bed-shower-coffee-clothes,
don't know where the time goes,
stare out the window as long as it takes for your eyes to catch up.
some face in the mirror, barely glimpsed and then gone in a flash --
got friends to meet, some bar to be,
got work & work & hit the gym,
got nights out with stories & tales
as big as you'll ever see.
maz hasn't stopped in weeks.

but tonight, as maz gets home,
the energy's gone.
sinks down to the couch.
nothing's wrong,
but maz sits back
& finally breathes out,
sips on a beer
that's been sitting here since last night,
picked up somewhere,
and maz thinks --

what happens if you stop before the day you stop?
all i can feel is a heavy cloth, pressing down
like weights upon my chest,
a draining kind of emptiness.

my pockets are all full of stones.
the only people i've ever known.
all jumbled, could never get them all in line.
i've got photos & scars but they're waterproof,
all surface & there's no getting in,
& there's shells in here & pieces of string,
that someone's been quietly collecting.

i've got people in my pockets, like little stones.
got heavy legs but can't go slow,
got marble & chalk & granite fine,
got to put them somewhere out of time.
can't stop to look, wish they weren't mine.

i've got people in my pockets, like little stones.
all these people have been using my name.
there's a fork in my tongue, a great crossroads.
somebody just tell me where to go.
there's more of us in here than i care to count,
there's barbed wire stuffed inside our mouth,
i've no idea what they would've said back then.
i've shed my skin,
i've bled them out,
i'm slowly replacing all of my cells.
i've watched the moon almost every night,
with what feel like almost the very same eyes,
but i don't know them & they don't know me,
& yet they're all i've ever been.

i've got people in my pockets, little stones
i've got too many people under my skin --
i've got to stop letting them in.
i thought i'd turned my back on you,
i thought i'd made myself anew,
i've been red-orange-yellow-green-two-toned-blue --
but there's traces stuck like hardened glue,
running between my muscles & bones
& i don't know if i should try to let them go,
or if they're part of what's holding me through.

i've glued myself together so many times --
i've stumbled & climbed after you, blind,
like folds of paper, fit to a shape,
that's half out-of-sight
but never will break.
well i wasn't born just yesterday.
i'm sitting here folding paper planes,
filling them up with little stones.
wish i could take them out & throw
them scattered somewhere
like leave me alone,
i'm tired of carrying you around,
i'm shattered, but when i stop running
is when i see you the most,
when you creep on out like little ghosts.

i've been red-orange-yellow-green-two-toned-blue.
i thought i'd turned my back on you.
i've got people in my pockets, little stones.
sometimes there's nowhere else to go.
sometimes i hold them up to the light,
as if up there they could testify
to what that life was like back then.
sometimes i spread them down on the ground,
stones like stars brought here to shine.
i stand there looking for joining lines,
a thread to stitch some meaning in,
like how things came from there to then,
but my thread is bare & i cannot sow.
i breathe in & taste something i know,
but taste is so hard to identify.
swirl it in my mouth like an ageing wine
til all i've got is the urge to swallow it down.
what happens if you stop before the day you stop?