An Exercise in Futility

Dear Person,

It’s uncomfortable to constantly be on guard.
Worrying about the things you say and do being judged.
Not misjudged.
A selfish, shamelessly self-centred organism.

But, I’m comfortable enough to tell you this.
I’ve been thinking a lot
About the pointlessness
Of any emotion that isn’t self-serving.

So, what is this big fuss about love?
The existence of which is in itself highly debatable

I think.
But what do I know?

The stark futility of expressing to people
How you feel about them,
when they clearly don’t need it –
Evolved, self-sufficient bastards.

So why tell you that you’ve been on my mind?

Memories of you make me feel empty.
I do not love you unconditionally;
I do not want to possess you;
I do not dream of touching you;
I am not enamoured.
In truth, I don’t even really like you.


You were real.

You were here,
I “felt” things.
Like I was more
Than just an organism.
Like my meaningless existence
Was completely acceptable.
Like I wasn’t alone.

I miss you.




Have we met before?

Let’s say we haven’t.
Let’s do a little dance,
As you help me sell to you
Parts of myself that I’d like you to see.

Tell me I’m beautiful,
Say those words.
Make me want you
Despite myself.

Pull me close
And I’ll try to leave.
But your grip is firm,
My fingers in your palm.

I’ll twirl right back
Into your arms.
Sharing bodies and souls,
Never missing a beat.

Tell me my demons entice you;
That you’re under my spell.
Tell me you couldn’t leave
Even if you wanted to.

Tell me I’m special –
My breath intoxicating.

So special that I’m different –
My words, stimulating.

So different that I’m doomed.
To be alone.

Then don’t look back
When you walk out the door,
Shaking with emotion
You never expected.

Rage. Hate. Pain. Love?

Promise yourself
You’ll never come back.
I’ll promise myself
I’m never taking you back.

I’ll spend my days
Shattering innocent objects;
Shouting as loud as I can
To drown out the voices.

Incredibly loud.
Excruciatingly unkind.
Told you so!
Told you so.

I’ll make do,
I’ll live with this shame.

So here I am.
The past behind me;
When you come by,

Smiling eyes asking,

Have we met before?

Stay Alive

Hold on, dear heart.

This too shall pass.

Time’s a great healer.

This too shall pass.


You might stay broken,

But you shall breathe,

Wake up, hunt and kill.

Survival is key.


They are not you.

You are not theirs;

No one belongs

To anyone or anything.


Accept what is –

You’re on your own

Dear heart, hold on.

This too shall pass.


You have to walk

A little longer.

Your mask must stay;

The show isn’t over.


Take control dear heart,

You know what you want.

You have no savior,

But yourself, dear heart.


You’ve given away pieces

Of yourself, dear heart

To those who didn’t want it

Or know what it was.


You’ve done this yourself

And you’ll do it again.

‘Coz life isn’t poetry

It’s a long long march.


Stay in line,

Find the rhythm.

Slap on a smile

‘Til the curtains are drawn.


Strength, dear heart

Is accepting the truth.

That we are in the end

Only virus with shoeson.*


the park swing


Fists holding surely
That metal chain;
The smell of life
Emanating from within.

Feet firmly anchored
In the sand by the balls.
Knees buckled;
You’re at the edge of your seat.

Ready for take-off!
Fall slightly backward
As your toes look skyward,
Aiming higher than you dare.

Catch a flash of sun
Like a glint of magic,
Before you fall back down
For an anxious second.

Proactive feet
Propel you again.
Dreamward. Forward.
Skyward once more.

The high is addictive.

The rest of your body
Now join forces
To attain by all means
Its communal goal.

“Aim for the sky
and land on the roof”.

Higher and higher,
Dodging the rooftops.
Higher and higher,
Till there’s nothing but white.

A blinding and piercing
Yet calming bright light.

The higher you fly
The greedier you get,
And as it’s commonly known,
The harder you’ll fall.

Still you push harder,
Having now tasted freedom.
Your needs and wants
Now completely indistinguishable.

Chasing a high
That’s chased by a low
Lower than any
You’ve ever known.

Up then down.
Inhale. Exhale.
Your chest full and then emptied
Of life and hope.

The sun has set.
Your spirit is weary.
You slowly touch down
In the sand where you started.

On the ground where you belong.

Aim for nothing
And stay where you are.

Your soul bereft
Of a will to live.

Fists fall slack
Off that metal chain;
The smell of death
Emanating from within.

dear departed

Things end.
That’s just how it is.

Holding on.
Weak arms as always.
Gravity mocking
The body’s betrayal,
Taking first
The trickle of red
Involuntarily given
Of fingers white.

The heart escapes
Beneath the gut.
Vacating the house
Where he once lived.

Vacant for Demolition.
The balance is off.

Hope steadily dimming.
Resolve depleted.

Think not. Feel not.
Let go now.
It’s just an end.
Life does go on.

Shameful arms
Surrender feebly.
The descent begins.
No ground below.
Limbs flailing
To scrambled instructions
In this unending free fall.

Things end.
That’s just how it is.

This ends.


Dark and strong,
Warm and comforting.
I know you’re not good for me,
Then I want you so much more.

Dense and rich,
Sweet and sinful.
An addiction I must break
If I’m looking out for myself.

I had too much
And now you’re gone.
I tell myself I’m clean again.
I tell myself, it’s according to plan.

I’m rid of you.
You’re rid of me.
Your taste will be forgotten.
New fingers will caress your grooves.

I love you.

I’m sick of you.

I devoured you.

You changed my body.

We love not each other
But our selfish selfish selves.

We are the same.

We deserve this pain.

(happy) new year

Years have gone by.
It was inevitable.
You’re less and less enamored
By the newness of new.

Seen enough
To know first-hand;
That all that glitters
Can just be as new

As a hooker before dark
Bathed and perfumed,

And untouched
By You.

New today is old tomorrow –
Tale as old as time.
Yet the promise of newness;

Of firsts and opportunities,
Of beginnings and the unseen?
A trap as beguiling and vicious

As knowledge.

Refresh. Restart.
But you can’t erase your past.
Yesterday’s gone,
It’s a brand new Today.

But you’re only as new today
As you’re old tomorrow.

Love Laws

“That it really began in the days when the Love Laws were made. The laws that lay down who should be loved, and how.

And how much.”
― Arundhati Roy, The God of Small Things


Where do I live?
Some place in my head.
Where am I from?
Some place in my head.

Where I make the rules.
Yet, I follow yours.
I hate your rules,
But I love to conform.

What is this love you speak of?
What is this simulation we’re living?
This staged, contrived,
Alluring enslavement?

When you’ve barely even started out,
And you know you’re doomed.
And you know how it ends,
Before you’ve met the plot.

It’s all been said before.
We come from different worlds.
Romanticized fodder for an activist’s dream.
And yet it feels like we’re pioneer lovers.

No one has loved before.
No one has had to choose.
No one has had to lose,
Or hide and pine.

The stoic cool head
Says leave. NOW.
The heart; green and insatiable,
Has its feet entrenched in quicksand.

“…who should be loved and how.”


Wake up from what seemed
So much like my own
Vivid rushed reality,
To a sneaky thought of you.

Look at my phone,
I know it’s not you.
I convince myself
I’m not thinking of you.

Self-induced REM – eyes squeezed shut,
Detaining images, forcing this moment;
To last a little longer, pass a little slower.
To picture your hair and your eyes,
Your pride and your smile.

Those hands that are poetry.
Your voice and your cruelty.
And I convince myself
I don’t love you at all.


Real life’s a-calling;
Shower and sustenance.
All the while conscious,
you’re not on my mind.

Not haunting me
With that disdainful eye.
Those excruciating words
Don’t wreck and crucify.

Your casting me away is not judicial murder.
Your pity is not
My guilty pleasure.
I can do without you
And your arrogant belittling.

And then…

I don’t feel my insides lurch
When that familiar buzzing begins,
And I see your name flash in my palm –
Hello, how are you, I’ll see you later.


The sun is up.
I walk out the door.
I’ve convinced myself
You’re the only thing I need.