I am surrounded by
Squeaky wheels
Getting greased with
My blood
But nobody notices my
Pock-marked skin
The barbs of these
Prickly bushes around me
Tear at my skin leave
Noxious residue behind to
Fester until
Coming to a head
Ichor release offends those
Who caused the
Infection
Yet those squeaky wheels
Cry out for my blood
Not recognising the
Two way street
That they travel upon
The pants of my
Suit
Are a
Little
Too tight
In the morning
When I put it on
At work
I breathe out
Just a little
To button my pants
At my desk
Other people’s problems are
Investigated
Managed
Or fixed
Demands are made
For errors to be fixed
By those who
Made them happen
Responsibilities of
Other’s
Laid at
My
Desk
Next to my
Impersonal
Workspace a window
Holds a view of an
Outside world
Continuing without
Me
When the time comes
And my computer is
Shut down
And my work day
Draws
To a close
I take off my
Suit put my
Home clothes on
And breathe in
Just a little
Again
My dad died in his kitchen
Collapsed in a heap in
The corner near the kettle
Vomit on the cupboards and floor
Outside a patch of driveway was
Dug up to prepare for
Inlay of nearby bricks
His mattock carelessly dropped
To one side
The paramedics and cops
Think he felt a twinge
A bit ill
While digging
Went inside to relax
Grab glass of water
Too late
But not me
On the table
Next to his armchair
When we cleaned up the next day
After the coroner took him away
Before our mum could see
We found a
Single chocolate biscuit
His evening with cuppa treat
He was making a cup of tea
Died doing something he loved
transfixion not an option but a mandatory state of being as my eyes meet yours, as i look into them, fall into them, your soul's windows locking me into orbit around you
we talk, converse, learning of each other, every word issued from between your lips, those lips, a tiny hook, piercing me, drawing me towards you
uncontrollable muscular spasm deep within abdomen, shiver down spine, as body responds to delicate touch of fingertips on fingertips, idly playing together, a herald, a prelude to a further physical connection
lightning's fire of energy burst as lips first touch on lips, saliva sluicing pouring down parched throat at first taste of each other
and eventually, finally we are alone
and it is time
the world around us ceases to be, clothing discarded to reveal our true raiment, exposed to touch of hand and of gaze
kissing again, my fingers in your hair, arm around your body, the tension, anticipation, hunger in our bodies obvious as i hold you against me
our hands reaching touching tracing exploring stimulating every area of skin we can reach from this embrace
my mouth finds neck, and shoulders, and throat, as we continue to explore each other’s geography
in time hands gentle caress of your breast, response to touch digging into my palm and then my tongue as mouth follows hands lead, downwards
over ribs, across abdomen, tongue in navel, teeth on hips, fingers inside thigh, play with soft downy hair, feeling heat against hand from prominent pubic mound
font at which i now sup with fervour best described as religious, sweating, head swimming in your musk, momentary loss of coordination, shock waves of pleasure racking my frame as you respond in kind
and finally without cue, as if instinctively knowing it was time, we break from that embrace into another more complete, a merging of bodies, a physical penetrative joining so intense it is almost a metaphor for how much we are becoming a part of each other, you are as inside me as i am inside you
as we move together, rock together, entwined around each other, moving as one in ways so intense, so complete, so complex, as to rival the Gordian knot
until we surmount union's pinnacle at which we reach out, cry out, let go together and i orgasm with intensity greater than that of when first i held pubescent phallus in hand with curious intent, and slipped out of consciousness
and beyond, not withdrawing, not loosening in the slightest that climactic embrace, as one being we float nameless on oblivion's lukewarm sea
At Uni as the 80’s drew to a close I met a man who
Taught me something I’ll never forget
I turned up at a party at a house near campus
Dropped my beers in the bath full of ice
Cracked one open
And went to mingle
Wandering through the familiar pungent smoke I felt slightly out of place
Having worked for a year before going to uni
I was a year or two older
And slightly more cynical
Than most of my peers
But I had a few drinks
Chatted for a while
Stopped for the occasional toke
And listened to whispers of a guest at this party
I heard tell of his genius
Of how enlightened he was
And decided to head for the room where this
Giant was holding court
As I wandered up the hall the smoke
And the alcohol
Got the better of me
I had flashbacks to Apocalypse Now
Felt like I was heading up river to see Kurtz
And I wondered what this meeting would become
I found the room
Joined the people on cushions
Passing joints, listening, asking questions
And talking to the man
He was a wonder to behold this
University
Guru
He looked as though someone in a lab
Had tried to cross a hippy
A surfer
And an American college professor
And had failed
Producing a look that those around me
Members of a generation with no solid identity of its own
Thought was pretty cool
But was basically a 30 year old art student in bad 70’s retro
And I with my budding biology degree
Learning how living things function and interact
Sat talking with this man of letters
This man who had spent 12 years at uni learning
Things
We talked of philosophy
Of literature
Of psychology
We talked of many things as we
Sat in that haze of smoke and alcohol
And he showed me that he knew
A lot about
A lot of
Things
And he blew the minds of those around him as they
Sat
Rapt
Hanging
On his every word
And I took something from that room that I still think about today
A decade later
As I wonder if somewhere on that campus there’s a
40 year old
Art student impressing
Teenagers
With the things he’s learnt
As I wonder if he remembers our meeting, the
Flicker
Of uncertainty that crossed his face when I said
I know who you are
Or the smile of relief and satisfaction as he
Misunderstood
My explanation that he was the shepherd
And these were his sheep
If he remembers me saying that he’d taught me
Something
And that I must thank him
The glow of self-importance that
Came over him
As he inhaled my thanks
Or the self satisfied grin as he asked
What did I teach you?
But I doubt he remembers my answer
That he’d taught me never to confuse knowledge with intellect
She was walking towards me
on the street
and she was beautiful
her hair
make up
entire ensemble
immaculate
made me stop dead in my walk
to the tram
do not misunderstand
I was not on the pull
did not wish to talk
her into tryst
or otherwise
but when she passed
I stopped
and said
“darling, you look great”
paid compliment to
pertinent aspects
of her apparel
her reaction was one
of such indignation
and aggression
I may as well have said
I wanted to violate her body
right there on the street
when I was done with her mum
and I was displaced
misplaced
within shelly's peach melba hat
except that it was the subject that
berated me
to point of calling police
for crime of simple compliment
in face of her tirade
I held up hands
confessed that while I was
inebriated
my comment
was not meant to
initiate contact
I had not asked her name
and I was heading home
in opposite direction
but that i'd thought
that she was such
and obvious effort made was such
that pause for simple
appreciation
was warranted
and moving on I wondered
why
and I wondered
when
we lost the simple
capability
of simply paying
compliment
and then I remembered shelly
and the snow drop kid
so many years before
and mourned for a time
I am too young
to remember
