Poetry

I can still taste the salt and the fear,
From the mirror you threw in my face.
I am still chilled by you as I sit
Alone in this damp concrete space,
A thousand shards remind me
Of the thousand flawed lies grinning
You told the world so thorougly today.
And I don’t know what to do with your sinning.

Do I tell the world about you?
How you left your wife to fend
For herself while you forced
Yourself upon my best friend?
Do I take this largest shard
And stab you threw the heart.
Do I walk away and forget all you are?

And then I smiled,
And the mirror in my face
Disappeared.

We sold her on the streets
In the bars,
On television.
We sold her for a car.
We sold her when she was young
And pretty.
She twirled in a blue, floral skirt,
Her face alight with all
The life she was.
She didn’t get a chance.
We were enchanted
By this treat that men would buy –
A moment in time
For a dime.

She is our jewel in the sky,
That we have lain to waste
For tastes that shouldn’t
Have been ours,
Can she forgive us – these
Children of a teenage bride –
Her children.

Today I’m making sauce again.
The flavour left from yesterday is so bitter
I can still taste it,
Although, I’ve brushed my teeth three times.
What was I thinking?
When I added too much vitriole,
And not enough laughter.
The bus driver in his white shirt
With children looked after by the neighbour
Because their mother had died
Deserved at least a smile.
How was I to know?
How was I not?
He ate my sauce
As I shrugged off his furrowed brow.
It was a family recipe:-
Betrayal and anger with a hint of sarcasm.
Today’s sauce, will have more compassion,
More fun,
More me.

Last night when you were drunk,
You wanted my friendship again.
So I listened while your heart bled
Stories of love disdained.
I listened while you told me
That being lonely was the cost,
That I was the only friend you had.
And when you’d finished off,
I put down the phone and let you sleep.

Now, today you are sober
You ignored my ring,
To make sure you were OK.
That’s how it is being
Friends who want nothing
From each other.

I can see
I can walk
I can stay warm at night
I can eat when I need
I can read with a light
I can wash
I can shave
I can keep myself clean
I can make myself breakfast
I can follow my dreams
I can think
I can bend
I can manage my time
I am the one who can choose
What to put in my mind
For all this I give thanks
But the most important of all
Is that
I can be happy.

Please don’t open your bags.
Please don’t tell me your name.
Don’t put flowers on my window sill
Or give me champagne
For my birthday.
Let’s not swap presents at Christmas,
Or sit by an open flame.
Though I see your charcoal eyes burning,
Let but gently ripple the waves.
I wish you’d turn your head now.
And walk far away.
I want no more karma;
Let fate another claim.