Several Short Poems

SUMMER

My sunglasses
give everything
a healthy pink glow
And the candy I’m chewing
makes the sky taste
like strawberry cream
And without my glasses
the world is bright
And I can see
the end of summer
too close
But through rose-tinted glasses
and a mouthful of candy
summer is endless.

CHILDISH

I want to give you my feelings
in a colouring-book.
Can you fill me in?
I feel empty.
I want to give them to you
in a box
wrapped with a bow
so you can open it
and see there’s nothing inside.
I’d like to give you my heart
in a song without chords
so you can hear the echo of broken strings.
I want to show it to you
in a black-and-white photograph
so you can understand
how grey I feel.
Can you colour me in?

ANXIETY

Tripping past windows,
turning to look but missing the image
(I’m going too fast)
too slow
I’ll never make it
not like this
Heart pierced
by each short, asthmatic breath
by each spastic, hazardous thought of you
I’m late
(for a very important date)
very important, even though it doesn’t exist
(this is all in my mind)
a silly dream I play out to calm myself
running down that road with a goal in mind,
a goal ready to leave at any moment
but because this is my dream
I make it all happen
(just the way I want it)
Maybe in real life, the train would pull away
ten minutes (ten seconds) before I arrive
but in my mind, I get there just in time
to wrap you in my arms
and pull you back.

OVER THE EDGE

Fir trees
bent knees
crouching down to breathe,
dirt, rocks,
old running shoes
hair pulled back and face shining.
Rushing water
drowns out birds
singing, walking
steadily upwards
flying swiftly forwards
diving gracefully
down from the edge
through the air and the clouds
the barrier of sound,
into the water
watch from above
amazed, out of breath
pause, then turn
and go back.

THE OFF-RHYME AT THE WRONG TIME

It’s troubling to find
that poetry can no longer
express your feelings
An emotion so deep
so raw
so painful
that words cannot tell it
as well as your heart
and no-one could read it
no matter how smart.

CLAUSTROPHOBIA II

A pinprick
A moment of
Denim on denim
A rush of blood to my ears
And every one of my fears
Is shouting
Hairs
Standing on end
I can't pretend
To like this anymore
Escape
Find another room
In this place
Try to touch nothing
As I walk away
Stiff
Head held to one side
Watching
For fingers and elbows
Ready to brush
Against my arm
Meaning no harm
Or pain
But it's painful
Like I can't explain
So I'll slip
Into the next room
And wait this out
Hear the voices
Sink into the ground
I've finally found
My place
Amid unmoving furniture
And windows, wide open spaces
I'll sit here
Listening to words
That mean nothing to me
I'll just stay here
Until I have to go
I'll calm down
In a moment or so.

SLEEPOVER IN A STRANGE PLACE

The hum of a fluorescent lamp
Old, but
It still works
The creak of the bed
As I slide in
The whisper of a foreign room
And the breathing of a strange house
Fill my ears
Yellow light floods my vision
From the left
The wall, to the right
Bears my shadow
I turn,
Try to catch a glimpse of me
But I am blurred
Stretched
In this place
Maybe
I am not myself.