EVERYTHING I WRITE IS A CLICHÉ

YOU NEVER CHASE ME

And hands clap, but sounds that will never be heard are pouring from the hills. Her eyelids are heavy with the guilt of their lust but she is never frightened by it. Smiles never lie, but similies do, and a thousand miles of water won't scare your inner child. I long for reasons, but the truth is too far from the tongue of a poet. If a tree falls in the forest and a man stands beneath it, do his last words mean anything to God? Questions are always answered by silence and the sound of palms mistaking themselves for drums.

Oh, undulating electric city,
draped eternal in neon pity.

FOR LOVERS AND WELLWISHERS

Coffee or tea, the highlight of our slowly catching breath says 'tracing paper.' Smiles tainted with heavy loads of lip-gloss kisses and colourful glee, the tender lovers' wishes: 'all the best.' and careless whispers plays over and again whilst your mother's sister bakes tempting cakes with icing flowers. Sugar paper drives in droves beside the motorway dusted with the flaring tempers of latecomers and holidaymakers. This is a world so full of strange and empty features, no one agrees but all bodies are kept in tiny filing cabinets under water.

Fact is, you can never realise beauty until beauty realises itself.

And believe it or not, I still consider slow and steady winters, where nothing can be as final as the gentle caress of a new lover. Or perhaps, as is often the fact, an old lover, returning to the bed you once shared and prepared together. You and I are safe in the knowledge that only the brave can take back what is rightfully theirs or rightfully ours. Frightfully, hours pass and we will remain this way until Friday’s night time siren song calls out to the city with its lights. This is a world so full of calm and careful triumphs; I don’t believe that nobody can get a glimpse of their future in another.

MAKE GOOD YOUR HONESTY, HONESTLY

And there are stars who's light never reach our eyes and I am a masque'd figurine, jealous of thinkers and liars and those that see your smile. And I will take time in knowing you and keeping the cold against your skin. I will grow older every second and you will see this and know that I am real. For in keeping silent secrets from worlds not our own we push ourselves further away from those that we are part of. I slept safely in the arms of my mother as a child, did you? We keep talking with gentle poetic nuances and this, she said, is how it will last forever. I don't care for those with motives darker than the sentences they spill, and nor for those who forgive them. I am only what I am and that is all that I can be.

I BEFORE YOU EXCEPT AFTER TEA

I am wrapped,
enveloped in your
everlasting pessimism
this pleonastic tripe
of more and more and baby, more
we are troubled, surely?
Questions overlapping
answers never given and
all for one simple
God forsaken moment of bliss.
I gave myself time
but time never responds
in the way I'd like it to.

WHY I NEVER GO SHOPPING ON SATURDAYS

A sign of the times, this is what savagery sounds like
when you're lonely, do you feel like maybe this,
this is what it's supposed to be like?
When tiring chores face you in front of wide-eyed
morons selling Big Issues on corners of streets
you always said you would avoid.