Words to the River

What do you say, god,
to the river
when you tell it to run?

What words do you give, god,
to the river
so that it flows the right way?

Strong words, I think
strong and kind
that you must give the river
for it to run so faithful
and to flow so joyous

Mikva'ot

 I want to find myself
in an in-between place
unbreathing, under the waves
and speak to you there

divining rod

I see you, Miriam
Tapping your divining rod on the ground

thdnt thdnt thdnt

Then driving it right through the crust
So that water comes spilling out

Korach in the Grove

 In the grove, shadowed by canopy,
I met Korach
Cloaked in dust,
And he asked to walk with me

The trees in the grove,
Have an unusual quality
Not of a kind, but rather,
Blessed with individuality
"Like us," he said
"But all still always the grove.'

I asked him his regrets,
And he replied:
"I have many,
But I doubt the one you suspect.

I would, even now
challenge Moshe though perhaps,
With more of my tribe beside me"

And with that a laugh
So we walked on, in the grove

time does not pass
As it does elsewhere, and yet

"The Earth still takes her share," Smiled Korach, waving me away
A breeze rising, causing leaves to sway
A wind pushing, pushing me away
A flourish that ends the day, to fill the air
"I must return to sheol, for
I have so much work to do there"

5am

It's 5am
And you're hungry
And you've somehow managed to stay up this late again
And you just want to sleep
You just desperately want to sleep
But your stomach hurts and no matter how much you lie there and no matter how much you try to ignore it there's no way you're getting to sleep
So you're hungry
And you need to eat
But eating is hard.
What is there to eat?
Need to cook a whole meal or just have toast again but you've eaten toast twice a day every day for a week and you're way past being sick of it and even though you know you're going to just eat it eventually you're trying to put it off as long as possible and
Fuck
Why does being hungry hurt
Why can't you sleep
You pick up your phone
Scroll through discord
Try to build up the effort to make something
Write a poem
Text a friend
Whatever
You're still hungry
You're still tired
It still hurts
Fuck. 

breasts

I’m obsessed with

the tactile sensations, the aesthetic oddities

that mark me as new at this.

The feeling of it

beneath my arm, just below

the armpit, skin

raised a little, firm.

Reaching forward, my body pressed together

flesh, peninsulate

Pressing my chin down and

Finding purchase and 

comfort and 

rest

The sight of it

looking to my side and seeing them

sticking out, holding my attention

standing still for minutes on end

Peering down, or in a mirror

learning my different angles

the different shapes I make

what my body can do

I wonder when the fascination might end

or if it might just last forever

the uniqueness of experience, stretched to bursting

The Longest Day

At dawn, on the longest day
When all the world begins to stir
And Rooster announces his fanfare
Bright light rushes to fill the leys
Then a crackling of power in the air

The wind blows just ever kinder
The rain just a tad more soft
And the trees hold their leaves aloft
Songbird sings her sweet reminder
And the lasses grin, working the croft

For the birds cry strong on the rolling moor
Telling days of the lost, ancient lore
Ah yes, there was magic in the land before
And now, at last, it's come once more

Must we pity the dead?

Must we pity the dead?

must we envy them?

a woman lies awake at night

brittle cold on a bed of stone 

waiting waiting and

the stars shine down upon her

I sing a dream to the pit some nights

It knows death, knows horror

and i ask it each night

Must we fear death?

and it rumbles, low, in answer

looking up at the stars I watch them die

watch flares become supernova

dust flies through the thick of night

through the dead of night

like a ghost

laying a trail made of light

booster

cw: suicide

i spent dawn awake

lying in bed thinking of you

astrobrite playing on my shitty,

crappy phone speakers

    tinny, scratching

       

        scott cortez makes me wanna cry

i’ll tell you one day, i’m sure

sitting on my window sill on the third floor

wondering if it opens wide

enough for me to squeeze through

how it’ll feel when i hit the floor

how long it’ll take for me to die 

            for the gardeners to find my body

or some unlucky undergrad walking home

you’ll never know how often i’ve stopped

over these metal railings and stared

    into the depths

    and wanted to climb over and let

    this sack of meat hit the floor

    blood on steel

    supercrush my soul

dawn comes like a potent doom

    wind, flow, mood low

    the world’s scream

i’ll survive this night

    and the next

        and the next

but i’ll never escape

        deep wounds don’t heal

Girl

I'm wearing a jumper

The shoulder pulled, just slightly down

And my sleeves are at my elbows and

A grin, in just the right way

A smirk, corner of my mouth raised

Yeah. It just feels right.

God is a Lichen

Feel it grow along you

O beast of bark and leaf

Feel yourself be coated

Cloaked and draped 

Creeping, creeping

Creeping divine

Feel it grow along you

O you bastion of grit and stone

Feel it pick at your details 

Grasping your sacred secrets

Knowing, knowing

Knowing divine

Feel it grow along you

O great tower of brick and flesh

Feel it share your grandeur

Covering your walls

Growing, growing

Growing divine 

Soul Eaters

Oh pit. 

I feel your warmth around me

as I lie here so afraid

all curled up in your shadow. 

They came for me, pit

with pitchforks and knives and

words that bite. 

Soul eaters. 

Am I a monster, pit? 

I feel that sometimes - 

the way my body just doesn't... 

just refuses to be what they say

is morally good. 

Am I evil just for existing, pit? 

Eddington In The Dark

The path is long, 

such that I can't see the end. 

It makes me scared, 

but also.. giddy, excited,

thrilled.

I'm glad you're here with me. 

It's inset with a thousand dim stars

that light the way and guide my steps. 

Though for all their glow, 

they sure don't make the cyclists 

see us any clearer. 

They don't steal the beauty of the pitch

black field either. 

My favourite part is after the turn

and we come to look upon the

distant suburb itself, all glowing

in its concrete horror. 

And to the south, 

cranes shine in crimson bright. 

And I love, 

the feel of the gravel beneath my feet

the chill of cold autumn air 

a shared joke, quick and snappy. 

We're all too cold and damp and tired to chat. 

And I love, 

the wilderness to our sides 

protected for science and for joy;

the wood we can't enter 

and the pond downhill

where ducks and geese conspire 

in the water reeds. 

And I love, 

the neon rings that hang in the air 

next to the U-bus we never take

(but always want to) 

and the cyberpunk hall. 

The only things I like in this dreadful town. 

And after we trudge there, 

fill our bags with sweets and beer and

food for half a week, at a stretch,

it's time to trudge back

and I love every second of it. 

King's Parade Of A Rainy Morning

It's a rainy day

and I'm feeling miserable. 

Wrapped up in my thin waterproof

and my thick college jumper. 

I can barely see through 

the droplets on my glasses. 

I don't want to go to lectures, 

but then, I never do. 

"Let's skip out," I say 

"and go have breakfast at King's", 

looking up at the old stone walls

and untouched grass

as we dawdle past. 

"Yes, let's," you say, with a grin

and then we keep on walking 

and turn down Bene't Street, away. 

The Lake On Mount Pleasant

How did it get there? 

A pool, not a puddle - 

metres wide, too much

to jump. 

We had to navigate around and

be splashed by

the passing cars uncaring. 

Why does it stay? 

Oh, how odd. 

I do love it, though. 

A Love Poem

I want to tell you I love you. 

I want to say it over and over

I love you, I love you, I love you. 

Til I'm crying. Overflown.

But you wouldn't understand. 

Conjured images of 

intimacy and abandon. 

As if I've dedicated 

Myself to you. 

But it's not - 

I don't want that.

I have all these feelings 

So big and so much. 

How I appreciate you and 

How you brighten my day and

Make me laugh and smile and

Make me feel alright again. 

And I don't have the words for that. 

I was never taught them. 

All these familiar trappings 

I find myself stuck within;

Misleading and deceiving 

They twist my words. 

Make it something it's not. 

These aesthetics, they've weasled

Inside my mind, made me obsessed. 

Made it hard to see and express

The way I am, 

Outside the paradigm. 

And yet, 

I love you, 

So much and

Thank you...

Thank you for being there

And for being my friend. 

It was all I ever needed. 

A Walking Sonnet

The lake so wide upon the mount's short peak

and hill, or mound; that ancient strength long spent

where lords once sat, to rule on tallest seat

unseen; us lost to talk, in our descent. 

Or bridge, the Cam to cross, at mountain's end

Mary's old scholar Lodge; or its named way. 

Walking high above boats that punters tend

To take tourists along the town's fairways  

The passage of two names, to widen out 

Cobble and stone; a grandeur that I hate. 

That place, I try always to mess about;

Brighten the mood, then quicken, don't be late. 

O Duroliponte, your concrete heart

These bare stone steps, all your broken old parts. 

Each And Every Star

Oh, my dear, my darling

Come close, I'll keep you safe. 

No need to fear. 

You've spent too many sleepless nights 

Wondering what's there and what's next 

The whole world bundled up tight 

Close to bursting, packed 

Inside that head of yours. 

Come here, come close

I'll keep you warm;

A secure embrace. 

There's so much out there, little one.

More than any of us can comprehend. 

But you're young, aren't you 

You try anyway, destined to fail. 

Oh, I've been there child 

I know your pain, I know

This awful loss you feel. 

There's no control for us I fear, 

Trapped in the tide coming in and going out 

So let me tell you a secret. 

We fear it all cause there's too much to know

So, so much, it's not worth trying to grasp it all;

But you can reach out, you can feel some. 

Hold a flower, feel the river flowing past

Calm, detached, full of wonder

That's the world too.

And it's okay to be afraid;

And it's okay to seek shelter

From such a great and terrible storm. 

The storm is part of us, I think. 

Part of our souls, if those exist. 

I can feel it, in my heart and in my bones. 

The storm comes - the rain of anguish, 

Thundering shouts and wicked lightning strikes

And I can feel it in me;

Deep, reflected. 

Like all this suffering and fear, 

All a part of me too. 

And when I was a little older than you,

I slipped down to the sea

at the mouth of a great river

to watch the waves wash against 

the sand and stone and concrete;

Feel its coolness against

The tips of my fingers - 

So tiny against the backdrop of all. 

Oh, I've seen waves so tall they crest sea walls, 

Ten metres or more, pushing over, 

Covering the land with water, 

Salt and air - streets filled with sea. 

The ocean is so great and vast 

And so weak and small as to slip 

Between my fingers on a hot summer day, 

When no tide can stop me. 

I've lived by seas and by rivers 

By ancient fens and ancient flows 

Water is all I - all you - are. 

What I drink and what I eat

And what I sweat and piss and breathe. 

Part of this system so old, so timeless. 

And the Earth, well, she precedes us all. 

Her tides and molten heart

And Her trees and beasts that

Walk and eat and build. 

And before Her, the stars, 

Older than we can imagine. 

The Earth in all Her majesty, 

Just scattered parts of once great wholes;

It, like us all, children of the cosmos. 

Nothing but star stuff. 

And you feel it, right? 

Feel the beingness in your heart - 

Aching, consuming, twisting. 

It comforts me, anyway. 

When all I've said and done is past 

When the reaper comes all dressed in black 

And holds my hand, so kind

To walk, passing into the abyss 

Leaving but my being behind. 

That precious thing;

To feed the worms and feed the sun

Once before and now again, dust - 

Fragments of the universe. 

And that's me out there, part of me

And what comes next, that's me too. 

There, shining so bright, millenia away;

All of them, that's me - and you

Each and every star. 

Oh child, 

See the rain out the window,

Listen to its sounds. 

I'll rock you to sleep, don't fret. 

You're safe, secure. 

Nothing can hurt you here. 

Last Breath (redux)

As fists upon a bed of grass,

Fell heaven's hateful shards of glass;

Anguished cries and flashes so bright 

(tremble trees in terrible fright). 

A hunter crouched - bright blade drawn out, 

And with it cut, precise, no doubt. 

Out first the gut (laid on the ground), 

The heart and flesh making no sound. 

Spear the lung to mirror disgust, 

Then roast upon this flame he's struck

Only to cry at least defeat 

As cold draws out each breath of heat. 

Then forced within this cloak of skin

To lie awake, regret his sins

And cast his name into the breeze - 

At last it comes, his death he sees. 

Afraid he goes, the man now conquered 

And the wind blows forth, ever onward. 

A Prayer For The Darkness

O deep pit,

Swallow whole the offerings of my soul

That I have laid before you 

O consume me, deep darkness, consume me

O twisted pit, 

Steal fast the secrets I hold and the stories I hide 

And know the vast shadow within me

O consume me, twisted thing, consume me

O wicked pit, 

Corrupt my heart and my mind with your wretched words 

Which sow the seeds of chaos 

O consume me, wicked whisperer, consume me

O hungry pit, 

Devour the food I give, the lost relics and remnants

These most precious parts of myself

O consume me, hungry hollow, consume me

O you ancient, nameless horrors

O deep darkness, swallow me

O twisted thing, steal me 

O wicked whisperer, corrupt me

O hungry hollow, devour me

O creatures of the abyss, consume me all and make me whole