Lust, lies and promises

Lying next to each other, gently rising from a sleep encased in the air of the night before.  Salty arid atmosphere, comfortable in the sweat and stains of the sheets.  Happy for the touch of dirty, sexual skin.  Glad to feel the pressure before we open our eyes to the empty room.  Emptiness filling our guts, our insides.  Inside our heads, our stomachs, our rib cage.  Both of us empty of explanations, empty of positivity, all of it drained by the passion and lust of the night before.

The warmth of the night lingering, lying in the cold light of day.  In seconds, memory slowly plays back to us the promises of the night.  Each kiss a promise, tens maybe hundreds of broken kisses we’ve exchanged in the air of the room, floating aimlessly around, needing somewhere to rest.  But a breeze blows in and they scurry out of the room through cracks in the floorboards, under the door or back through the window.

“Morning.”

 

Cold hearted reality drifts in on an early morning day dream.  Lust was the lie, love was the promise.

loneliness is not neccesarily sad

 

A feeling, a knowledge, a sensation pulsing round your body, a knowing, burning idea formed into a crystal truth, the difference between right and wrong, good and bad, love and hate.

Suddenly you’ll feel it and accept it or deny it. Trust your instinct but in the next instant instinctively change your mind, the games you play when you are alone with silence, a world full of possibilities, chances, changes, mistakes, lucky breaks, decisions, resolutions, a time to form plans, create paths on which to travel, remember incidents the way you saw them, turn them back through your memory and know.

Dream a little, realistically, ridiculously, dream of pleasure, planes, places, journeys of joy, touches of beauty, gifts you’d give, presents you’d receive, of no value, just better memories, peace in your time.

Knowing man can live together, knowing this is true while you sit alone, desperate for it to be true.  No reason to run, nor hide, the colour of your skin, the clothes you wear, it doesn’t matter, together with belief and positivity it can work.

But reality dawns on you, as if the sun had risen suddenly, so quickly from night and dreams to midday and a city full of sinners like you are bathed in the light.

The struggle continues, allow the dreams to fade into memory and the nightmare reality cover your eyes, or sleep through hoping both to be a dream or be hit by a knowledge that hope is truth and love is strong and you are completely mad.

Loneliness is not necessarily sad, but rarely constructive.

Listening to the bell

A bell goes. I line up. Some time passes. I follow the person in front of me.

I hang my coat on a hook and go to my place.

I answer my name.

A man stands in front of me telling me things.

He asks me a question.

I don’t know the answer.

I should’ve been listening to what he just told me.

When did it happen, when did I stop listening?

I can’t remember.

A bell goes. I get my coat, go out and play with a ball.

I watch someone cry and see others laugh. I watch someone jump and see someone fall. A bell goes.

I line up. Some time passes. A woman shouts. Everyone goes quiet.

I follow the person in front of me.

I hang up my coat on a hook and go to my place.

A woman stands in front of me telling me things.

She asks me a question.

I don’t know the answer.

I should’ve been listening.

When did it happen, when did I stop listening?

I can’t remember.

A bell goes. I get my coat, go out and play with a ball

I eat some food.

I watch someone kick and see someone punch.

I hear someone shout and hear someone else scream.

A bell goes.

I line up. Some time passes. I follow the person in front of me.

I sit next to them in the big hall.

Some people put on a play.

I laugh at bits.

Some bits make me scared.

One of the actors asks me a question.

I don’t know the answer.

He asks me to guess.

I say “A million.” He says “Correct!” and everyone laughs.

I must’ve been listening.

When did he say it?

I can’t remember.

The play is over, we all cheer and clap.

We are told to sit up straight, hands in our laps.

Back in our lines I hang up my coat and go back to my seat.

A man asks us questions about what we just saw.

He asks me a question.

I say a million.

“well done!” he says. I must’ve been listening.

A bell goes.

I get my coat.

Tomorrow I’ll try to listen more.

Jaspin and Trixibelle

 

The fairy shook her wings. 

The moon shone out of them.

The little boy’s eyes widened and sparkled in the light, his jaw slackened and a peace took over him.

 

The cold bit him. 

The wind pushed him. 

But he remained focussed, his gaze constant on the smile of the fairy as she hovered and fluttered in the night sky.

 

Sometimes, the baby lost the fairy in the carpet of stars above and other times the fairy would fly really close and just shimmer in front of his face like a flame floating.

 

All the time, the wind whistled through the air and the cold nipped at the little boy’s skin.

 

But nothing changed in the boy’s face.  His eyes followed the fairy as she flew around.

 

He felt the warmth of friendship like a blanket round him.

 

Once, the fairy landed on a leaf on a tree and opened her wings.

 

The delicate strands that wove around, across and through her wings looked like someone had drawn a picture in the mist that changed every time you blinked……BLINKED……..blinked.

 

The boy’s brain quickly computed the information in front of him, and, not realising that what he saw couldn’t be true, knew it to be true.

 

There was no battle in his mind as to whether fairies existed or not.  No-one had told him they didn’t.  So he just accepted it.

 

Jaspin just stared at the tiny flying person and felt good.

 

Trixiebell had never seen a human before.

 

None had ever come down past the cranky rock before.

 

Trixiebell had heard of them.

 

The ‘big uns’ her friends called them.

 

Her friends had told her that they grew so big their wings fell off!  The old fairies said you had to be careful of ‘big uns’.  They said that they tried to catch you and put you in jars or make you give them wishes or stomp on you!

 

So Trixiebell was careful not to go too close or stand still for too long or land on the ground.

 

Jaspin watched Trixiebell dancing in the air.

 

In his head he heard his mother’s voice saying ‘gentle, Jaspin be gentle.’  So very slowly he put out his hand palm up and said “Eh-ka” in his quiet voice.

 

Trixiebell stopped in mid-flight.  The ‘big un’ spoke fairy!

 

Now Trixiebell looked amazed and stared at Jaspin with big wide eyes.

 

The ‘big-un’ wanted to be friends. 

 

What should she do?

It’s A London Thing

Aldwych, Aldgate

Brixton, Bishopsgate

Clapton, Clapham and Camberwell (of course)

Dulwich to Denmark Hill, where it gets a little more coarse

Guns at the ‘Elephant’ ain’t the same as Eton rifles

T.A.’S, P.T.A’S funded by fetes and fairs selling home made trifles

Gimps, goons, gangsters, gentlemen and gays

Harridans, harlots, whores and ones that go both ways

Islanders, idealists, inbreds, inmates

Jokers, Jehovahs, jugglers, jailbaits

Kennington/Kensington the difference is clear

Londoners all, I hold all of them dear

Mates, muckers, marauding mobs

Neighbours, knockers, nutters and (k) nobs

Opportunists in Oxford Street making their marks

From Putney to Peckham, it’s plastered with parks

Quiet, quaint, quintessentially queer

Richmond’s a royal one, with surprisingly, deer!

Status symbols slip silently passed

Tottenham to Totteridge, that journey’s not fast

Uxbridge, the outskirts, all similar places

Vauxhall’s where you’ll see a vast array of faces

West Ham, ~Wimbledon, Watford, both places and teams

Excessive, exciting it explodes at the seams

Youthful, young, incredible old, yet constantly new

Zealots, Zionists there’s even a zoo.

It just doesn’t compute

I’m so lucky I don’t commute,

What you guys do just doesn’t compute.

You guys get up at sparrow’s fart,

for some train driver to break your heart.

For a whole month’s journey you’ve already paid,

only to find the journey’s cancelled or delayed,

and if the train arrives on time

it’s overcrowded and full of grime.

You share your carriage with some who stink,

but the ones who I would hate, I think,

are those that sit in aisle seats

and tut about having to move their feet,

who won’t move over when they’re asked

but just swivel their fat arse.

They don’t try to make life easy,

in fact they make me queasy.

They make me want to punch and fight

which isn’t normal and isn’t right

before the day is even light.

There’s only one mode of travel worse

and that is riding in a hearse.

Intrusion

Pardon this intrusion in your mind but it’s confusing and I find that if I talk to you, you don’t mind.  The confusion is this: if I’m talking to myself and not to you than who the hell am I?

Words have power, change the course of every hour, for hours we will scour for the right one, keep momentum, keep ’em jumping, make their bodies keep on pumping, fill those holes with something, keep the instrumental complementally to the rhythm of the beat, move your feet, dance on, that’s odd, words keep on changing rearranging, just as long as they are saying what we want to, as long as they move their feet to the rhythm of the beat.  There’s no difference can’t you see…as long as they move their feet.

 

Everybody knows about the thing called E,

makes you dance make you feel ire

go into the party feeling well sexy

open up your mouth and I’ll pop one in it

swallow super T like a beautiful tonic

take one to your friend and beg them to pop it

watch how your pal fumbles with his pocket

his jaw gone crazy eyes jump out of sockets

girl win’ up an’ down you got cock like a rocket

spar gonna clear a table so you can build up on it

one draw ‘pon the spliff an’ you reach another planet.

Perhaps I wish too much, but I wish

I wish I could, shut my eyes

Imagine where to go

And when I opened my eyes

I’d be there.

That would be great

No traffic, no walking, no waiting, no queues

Just close my eyes, think, and open my eyes

And I’d be there.

First, I’d go upstairs to pack

That would take a blink of an eye

Because I know my room

So I wouldn’t have to think much

Just a blink. Upstairs.

Now I’m packed (that took a while).

Where to now?

You have to know where you’re going; the place has to be real.

If you imagine yourself in a picture of Barbados, you end up in the picture, all flat and lifeless.

If you, in your brain make somewhere up, only your brain would go and then your body would collapse and that would be terrible, you have to be careful.

You might imagine your suitcase and end up inside.

Or in the water when you are full clothed.

Or up a mountain in your underwear

Lying on a beach, wearing gloves, a hat and scarf.

Water skiing in wellies

And what if you were asleep? And you were dreaming…?

In the darkness of my mind a light shines briefly

In the darkness of the mind, flashes of acceptance light the way

Acceptance of your truth, your own way

Sudden belief that your versions of last night’s events are TRUE

In those moments you LOVE you

The dismal light of dawn brightens the black clouds to grey

Waking, you realise that THAT dream will not stay

The things you did remain done and are remembered

The pain you caused and the heart is still dismembered

The truth you told was heard by all

The piss you took still stains their wall

The glass you broke lets in the bitter cold

The one you loved. You will never hold

The choices made, remain, your own

The messages remained unanswered on your phone

Reminders of what’s been done

The future will not be fun

The future will not be fun, it will not be a game

The loneliness you feel will remain the same

Until you return to another night, where drinks are flowing and everything’s right and all your problems will seem solved, then with a new love you become involved

A new arrangement in you head

Allows a stranger in your bed

A new dawn breaks with the sun in a blue sky

Everything’s forgotten, it happens again and still you wonder why?

I do believe in love, I do, I do!

I dream of life and life becomes a dream
then life is not all that it would seem
I flit in and out of all the things that matter
and survive on idle chitter chatter
I wait until the moment has arrived
and feel so lucky I survived
watching beauty slipping through my fingers
wondering why the sadness lingers
and then, I pull my self together
remember that nothing lasts forever
smiles are easy to obtain
if you try and try and try again
I open up my heart to all that’s fine
give away everything that’s mine
share the goodness and the bad
stop feeling sorry and so sad
sprinkle love and a little laughter
believe again in the ‘happy ever after’
send out joy and peace and hope
and get off the slippery slope.

 

After all I am a bl***y fairy