So you are bathed in sun;

Who would open arms

If you would fall;

Who would show you everything

If you lost it all.

If there was ever one

Who when you achieve

Was there before the dream

And even then believed;

Who would clear the air

When it’s full of loss;

Who would count love

Before the cost.

If there was ever one

Who when you are cold

Will summon warm air

For your hands to hold;

Who would make peace

In pouring pain,

Make laughter fall

In falling rain.

If there was ever one

Who can offer you this and more;

Who in keyless rooms

Can open doors;

Who in open doors

Can see open fields

And in open fields

See harvests yield.

Then see only my face

In the reflection of these tides

Through the clear water

Beyond the river side.

All I can send is love,

In all that this is

A poem and a necklace

Of invisible kisses.

Slipping

Slipping

You

Are

Slipping

Away.

Don’t

Go if you want to.

See if I need you.

You

Are

Slipping

Away.

Don’t

Leave if you want to.

See if I miss you.

You

Are

Slipping

Away.

Don’t

Call if you want to.

See if I miss you.

Slipping

Slipping

Don’t

Wave if you want to.

See if I care, for you

Are

Slipping

Slipping

Slipping

Away.

Murdering Bill

Murdering Bill

With less than the pressure

Of a downpressing butterfly wing in a feather field –

The opening of an eyelid would make more noise –

He opened the letterbox so slowly that it was

As unsuspecting as a passing yawn in the morning.

A smooth criminal face tattooed with blue ink

With my name peers. This Royal Male,

The silent secret stalker, crouched delicately

Outside the front door – eyes filled the letterbox

Like two greedy gulping goldfish in a tank.

He drinks in the shadows of the sleeping hall

And becoming almost liquidite

Squeezes savagely through the letterbox

Arms first, head stretched, ears cut.

Now he has the eyes and the body of a lizard

The strain written in blue veins on his face

He pulls through the legs and he is in.

A lizard. He waits for breath to calm and becomes

Cold and camouflaged. Digging his elbows into carpet

He slides into the front room where I am

Enveloped in the Saturday paper. Turn a page,

This is my affidavit, this is what happened.

I saw him. I read the look in his eyes and he read mine.

He laughed at me. Stood on his hind legs and spat at me.

His tongue slipping from his mouth like a serrated ribbon,

There he is lying in the centre of my front room.

Slumped from my clammy clumsy hands,

Back to the floor limp, his head and legs bent.

I’ve been here transfixed since. Staring at him.

Waiting for him to die – but he breathes, he breathes.