I boxed up my life
And saved it for later,
Makes the sea no more fear
Than to be my own traitor.
I boxed up my life
Midst turnips and taters,
Stowed deep in the hold
Of a cold alligator.
Where I defended myself
From remembering you,
Out into the grey-brown
Wash of Forgetfulness,
And gabions, their
Amnesiac nets protect
A sandstone cliff.
My memories then
Immemorial dark stars,
Like crumpled photographs
On social media
Are tagged with negative
Phrases like Missing
Hurt, and Regret,
Where other minds
Have memories as clear
And well-composed as
Arriving at theatres,
It’s as though,
To speak at length,
Audiences near and far
With craning necks
Gasped when they became
Aware of my tonguelessness,
My arms and elbows
Pinned to my sleeve
A still-beating heart.
So with hatches battened
And shops boarded up
I stooped into storms,
Eyes in water, weather-worn,
Where lashing gales made
Their own Landfall,
Battering just behind me.
Incapable of gazing backwards,
Pacing forward unprepared;
This is how a limbo feels
For the lonely
And the scared.
If you have someone to hold,
Hold them again once more;
If at night you lie beside
The unspoken beauty of love
Then love with words reformed;
And if you’ve lost no less before,
With Patience and Time,
You’ll be together once more.
No thinking forwards,
No looking much further back.
The present’s a trap.
Less the requirement for tablet or shed,
Poetry’s gardens are seeds in your head;
Daily distractions will chatter and chase,
All their dull efforts, one rhyme will replace.
Minutiae delights, heaven’s your ceiling,
Don’t hide from your self, hardships revealing;
You don’t need a war for a war poetess,
Injustice and conflict sow your success.
Your heroes don’t live in scripts or a screen,
Your heroes prevail inside you unseen;
Don’t over-bake, or burn with keen edits,
Don’t wait for their praise, the obverse discredits.
More words you’ll intuit, let the free world fight,
Follow terms for your self, and freely write!
Should divinity and deftness intercede,
There’s no foundation for your faith deceived;
Corrupters of stories, creations and states,
Copious fields would have fed four forty-eights,
And yet instead they filled those fields with flame,
Concealed nature with no natural claim;
Buried sacred jewels in a barren place,
Showcased a generational disgrace;
The flag and the spire conspired without end,
So don’t be deceived nor miscomprehend,
Authorship of the powers you will need
Is bound in the beauty of one good deed.
Crushed under a crown, they self-stripped your health,
Better steps forward are with care for yourself.