remission

I’m flowering in heaven      though my roots are in hell      I’ve come into remission  from sorrow and regret       I no longer freak out at the slightest provocation    I’ve achieved harmony in heart and mind        it’s time to loosen up      create a new space for my peace    the world is big and full of woes      I could be cut down at any moment     but I’m free for now and that’s enough for me

stigmatised

I have fought battles terrifying and beautiful        and I have been remade as a new man     but It’s not enough to get well        you’re expected to be penitent       for the crimes you committed when you were ill          coz there’s no sign of sickness on your skin       no, the monsters lurk deeper than that      they attack from the inside      the pain they inflict cannot be seen       it can only be felt    all that seems so far away now       as if it happened to someone else   but I don’t celebrate my victories          I hide my face in shame       there is no final victory      it can all happen again

I was not easy to help    but I was helped     for some my illness was seen a a failure       or even a betrayal       but my world was broken    and I reached out for a new one    no one would condemn a cancer  victim     saying ‘he brought it on himself’    but my friends diminished in number      those are the perverse mathematics of life       I don’t mind being ghosted       I live for myself     to hell with everyone else       I’ve forgiven those erstwhile friends        who could only see the surface of things      I don’t require validation     I made it on my own     I’m an individual now      a man of some distinction

pack

 

we were a pack       and we made meat     but we had to be ruthless      with those who could not       we would dance in the sacred manner       horizontally     with the shades down       private individuals       living in a private world

I got the blame    when it all fell apart       and maybe I deserved it        paint me wicked      everyone does       it’s easier that way      there are too many pigments      in the other picture     I grieved for that cabal       of erstwhile friends and lovers       when they fell on me like wolves       to tear the world apart

one foot in...

 

the years give

the years take

I’m docile now

polished smooth

I wouldn’t leave a ripple

if you dropped me in the ocean

I could be making waves

but I’m coasting from here on in

I’ve made my choices

what is a life

but a series of choices?

I live according to my nature

it’s too late now

for anything else

pushing up daisies

 

becalmed once again     deep in the fucking doldrums       went to the doctor        he told me to lighten up     but that cunt’s a fool       this time I’m dying        slowly, by degrees       it’s the dead of liquid night      I’m adrift on the tides of memory        half in shadow, half in light      I sometimes hear your voice        can you still hear mine?