Heartaches

My heart aches
because yours does too.
It holds scars and twisted veins
which won't heal or untangle.
It falls apart, decrepit
in my hands
and yet I still want the best
for you, even when you're
no longer there,
to hold my hands.

The Journey of Journeys

Departing on trains
is such a cold affair
where waves of farewell
only go so far
as to signify distance
and time apart.

Disappearing
around the bend
I travel further beyond
and upon losing
sight of you, I sink
into an unfeeling stupor.

And I wake up
just in time to disembark
on a strange platform
and to continue walking
whilst watching the train
disappear, beyond sight.

Learning in Lectures

What is he talking about?

Lecture dismissed;
we're herded out like cattle,
out the doors which we entered
into the snow and cold.
Lecture made no sense
to you, or me, or them -
to us.

What was he talking about?

Lecturer disembarks,
leaving the hall after us.
He walks past us
no acknowledgement
of us, his pupils, people.
He shuffles away to the next lecture
on Social Psychology.

What did we learn?

Over caffeine and cake
we talk, merely talk,
about the lecture.
We review today's jargon
which bears no use in daily life.
We leave half-eaten cakes
and half-empty mugs, unfulfilled.

No Ink

I'm writing letters to you;
this room has never felt so cold;
the pen churns out no ink
or words; I'm trying to write to you.

Words are dormant in my head,
repeating but not being expressed,
they lie idle in my head,
and bear no existence to you.

In the dark, when the light goes off,
I compose conversations in my head;
they never see the light of day,as I don't
say a word, or have ink in my pen.

Your Friends

It was topping up pride
with people, as if to show
you have more. But what are they
to you but breathing trophies
and well-mannered companions,
chieseled by their parents.

Sharing A Bed

It was knowing
that the bed was once ours,
shared between two;
and it's knowing now
that that's no longer the case
that wrings at the neck.

Facing truth upon truth
about love and what wasn't
we part two ways
never to meet,
leaving the bed we shared
to be shared by another.

And perhaps with time
its significance would be null
but for now it's a symbol
of what perfection is
and what really
was not to be attained.

Needs To Be Met

Needs to be met
under a bridge
in the dark
while trains pass overhead.

Needs to be met
by a stranger
who you met
in brief passing.

Needs to be met
right now
right now because
you want it.

Needs have been met
under a bridge
by a stranger
right now.

Feeling Better

Hours in bed
merge into unconsciousness
time slipping away in the heat
feverish with thoughts
which make no sense,
images of colours
which mean nothing.

Windows closed
sealing off the fresh air,
the room cloyingly damp
with ill breath and
unwanted loneliness and
death? Your mind wanders...

In that event, when you
float, you find a new high.
You find you need no more
and you sleep peacefully
even when they knock on you door,
wondering where you are.