Evocations Down Tracks (Seventy Stops to Think Back)

My tram trip is haunted by memories now.
Northcote is spoiled for me.
But I won’t close my eyes,
I’ll watch each storefront go by,
Staring steadfast with strength,
At all the places which remind me of you.

I’ll stare ‘til it doesn’t hurt to see them anymore.
‘Til feeling fades from history
And the streets lose their connection.
‘Til your loveliness to me,
Shadowed by your volatility,
Feels like less of an infliction.

But, oh, let me glide through it simply,
More smoothly on tracks than road
Because I still get chills on the bus through Kew
From the more awful man who preceded you.

IMG_2341 (3)b&w

The Eighty-six: Vacant Window Seat Opposite (2017)




A new poem and one of my better ones. I hope you find its beauty both despite and because of its sadness. Sometimes the most beautiful writing comes from hurt.



I wake from you haunting my sleep,
telling me you love me but that it can’t be.
You don’t though;
———–that’s a fallacy;
———————_fallacy my mind concocts
—-only to hurt me.
The whole dream, you never speak,
—-only write to me,
——in letters.

So, ripped prematurely
—-from sound,
I write you back what you’ll never see:
Of pain, proclamation, apology.
Mark my defeat in this elegy
And I tell it all,
———with letters.

Here’s a man I liked before
but he strikes no feeling from my core.
Not anymore; could he evermore? He’d let me
————————————————-I’m sure.
Greater awareness of what to search for,
he can’t compare to what I came to adore
But he’s good at speaking
——his letters.

He asks again, am I sure?
from my body, away my
————————-…soul tore
—-My heart is numb
—-so it’s no longer raw.
I let him on me but could never think before
how sex could seem a corporeal chore
And my mind is blank ;
——-no letters.

In hours followed,
was there reality in that liaising?
Thoughts waft above me,
Words turned  a l p h a b e t  s o u p,
I can’t see the thoughts
—–for the letters.

I’d hoped it’d help speed the healing
but that only works with lesser feelings
—-too rash was I in dealing
——with this listless quaking keeling
——–of my hopes with
————————you –Fuck!
I was so sure, no more, be gone these letters!

spelling words
—-filling sentences of thought
When will my brain free my heart
—-from such excess distraught?