Senza ombra di Marte

How I wish I had your crutch
To lean upon when I am tired
Of all the world and people in it
But that's not how my brain is wired,

Though of late I have to wonder
If it is actually a comfort at all
When you sing out to the void at night
And there's no-one to return the call.

Do you cling without knowing why
Or is it a habit too hard to break?
Do you follow, word for word,
Or pick and choose for society's sake?

I struggle every day with this,
The overwhelming uncertainty,
Simply doing the best I can
To avoid the unfeeling monotony.

Yet, in the end, I'd rather not know
Than be cloistered by false belief.
My being craves discovery
But not cold comfort in my grief.

What could give a flower more beauty,
A lover more passion,
The night sky more majesty?
Not an other-worldly flight of fashion.

Could you not be good without it,
Not well mannered or honest enough?
Is that all which holds this world together
When the going gets rough?

As the bell tolls one last time
And the final curtain falls,
You won't hear me recanting
Or shrouded by iconic palls.

Do not bear the burden of supplication
When your heart can answer instead,
Nor imbue the air with divinity
Or as a sheep be lead.

Rejoice in the achievements of humanity
Who seek to soar amongst the stars
Not in death on feathered wings
But as pilgrims beyond the shadow of mars.

Roy, in eight parts

I

 

One dark and stormy night

I chanced upon your face;

It lighted the way for me

When I was all but blind.

 

What I did not realise then,

And could not fathom afterwards,

Was why you would deceive me

And the one you should be with.

 

I longed for what you had

But could never give to me.

You offered me an illusion

Which would never materialise.

 

II

 

You dismissed the ultimatum,

As I had known you would,

But you would not dismiss me

From an ever-breaking heart.

 

I'm sure you haven't realised

How my heart was ripped,

Still beating before me eyes,

From in my shredded chest.

 

Your lies should have protected me

(Warned me, in the very least)

But I could not help but fall

And was so very injured.

 

III

 

Had you left in then and there

I may have found it in my soul

To offer you some forgiveness

But you could not let me be.

 

Each time I thought myself free

From you tenticulous grip

you sucked me in again

And once more I was afraid.

 

Why did I let you control me?

Allow you back into my world?

Did I think you would change?

Or was that all I was worth?

 

I was not worth your deception.

You were not worth my time,

But no matter how many times,

You kept knocking on my door.

 

IV

 

I hope you can see the locks

That now adorn the door;

And how do you fancy the bars

That now mar every window?

 

Do they fill you with satisfaction?

Are they pleasing to your eyes?

Because they work very well

To keep all from venturing inside.

 

They protect me from the ones

Who would seek to hold my heart,

No matter their intentions

Because it seems you're all the same.

 

V

 

The men I created for you,

To keep your advances at bay,

Were more perfect than any man

Could ever hope to be.

 

There's nothing you could say to me

To make me change my mind.

Even your name reminds me

Of every scar you left behind.

 

My trust has been annihilated

And belief beyond resurrection;

No hope remains to guide me

And no man could measure up.

 

You have destroyed my ambition

To have more than what is now;

The family I might have envisioned

Is a pipe dream lost to time.

 

It will take a prince in shining armour

To defeat my inner demons,

Remnants of my captivity

In a cell created by you.

 

VI

 

If this is my lot in life

I can be happy with that

Because I will always have one thing

That you will never own.

 

So next time you look in the mirror

And wonder what went wrong,

Remember that it was all you -

Your actions and your choice.

 

You chose the path of deception,

Of dubious morals and character,

Of integrity less than desirable,

And you chose the wrong girl.

 

VII

 

I may have spent many years

Debating, over again, with myself

As to whether I was worth more

Than what you were prepared to give.

 

I may have doubted myself

More times than I care to remember

But now all doubt is gone,

Especially when it comes to you.

 

I don't doubt your intentions,

They will never change.

You will never want anything more

Than ships passing casually in the night.

 

I don't doubt my ability

To resist your wit and charm

Because it is as shallow

As your children's paddling pool.

 

I don't doubt the outcome

Should you approach me one more time;

not only would you be rejected

But your world would tumble down.

 

VIII

 

You may not think I know,

But I have many resources at my command

And have gained enough to ruin you

From the scraps you discarded here.

 

A name and an industry sufficed

To glean all I could want to know -

You business is now my business

And don't think I won't use it.

 

So let this be the very last

Communication I ever have with you

For the sake of your reputation,

Your marriage and your world.

Mornings

Such rude awakening

From pleasantly delicious dreams

By my unfeeling virtual friend

To start a brand new day.

How I long to close my eyes

Against the radiantly bright rays 

And lay my head up on the comfort

Of that soft, feathery paramour?

Yet the world beckons me to rise,

To prepare for the events of day,

To ready myself to face any obstacle

That life may throw my way.

What culinary delights

Should pass my lips

To open my mind

To all the curiosities?

Which delicate aromas may waft,

Like an angels perfume drifting by,

And stir me from my sleepiness

To take on any challenge?

No food nor drink, no slurp nor sip,

Could ever be as strong

As that first, hurried kiss

From a child up several hours gone.

Their life, their energy, their absoluteness,

Endearing and draining, and life affirming;

Taking in everything and nothing,

Lost in the moment and eager for the next.

My Baby Bird

The day we met you sang to me,
Some random line from a pop song,
One I'd heard a million times before
And would somehow become our song.

How could it not be our song?

Of course I was gorgeous.
I had on that top you liked so much,
With the cute skirt to match,
The one that covered just enough to be suggestive.

You took me to see them play
For our first date -
The LeeStock Music Festival -
Those lyrical song birds took flight!

Listening to the ebb and flow of the music
Made my heart take flight
Unsteady baby steps at first
Like a bird fresh out of the nest.

For our first anniversary
You bought me that picture,
The one by Ms Ursin I fell for,
Even if it was just a print.

You said it reminded you of me,
Filled with all the sweetness
And innocence that can only be found
In a young chick scratching for bugs.

It reminded me of you as well -
Filled with the warmth of a summer day
But with a twinkle in the eye
That could only mean a touch of mischief.

Now I could not ask for anything more:
Not a thousand hours of songs
Nor a million masterpieces
Could match the gift you have given me.

That twinkle in you eye remains
Still bright after all these years,
Perhaps brighter for what we hold -
Our darling Baby Bird.

The Melbourne Cup Heist

The plan was as ingenious as it was devious
Yet there was one fatal flaw -
No-one suspected that there lurked
A traitor in their midst.

An undercover officer,
With years under her belt
And a solid understanding
Of the workings of the criminal mind.

Our hero had infiltrated,
Much to her colleagues surprise,
The most wanted group of low life scum
To ever grace a racing track.

Given the sorts of characters
Who frequent those types of places
It was no stretch of the imagination
To come up with these diabolical sorts.

And here they were before her.
And here she was with them.
Completely unnoticed
And holding all the cards.

She listened intently to conversations
And recorded every word.
The beauty of the saddle was
It hid a multitude of sins.

Well, only sins to them.
They would never understand the betrayal
But society would thank her
For the job she did unknown.

The discussion had been centred
Around that fateful Melbourne day
And the money that would be made
By such nefarious means.

A plan was afoot, alright,
To steal the cup away
And to take the winning loot
Without raising a cultured eyebrow.

The crop was swapped under the cover of dark,
The poor jockey completely unaware
Of the dastardly deed prepared
Which was to turn him into a killer.

The bets were laid far and wide
So as to not arouse suspicion.
The cumulative effect was such
That this crime would break the bank.

The racing began in earnest,
Each more important than the last,
Until that fateful race was called
To take their places for the run.

The jockeys took to their mounts,
The horses led, one by one,
To their predetermined gate
And locked in as per usual.

A hush came over the crowd
As they waited for the start
But what happened next was not expected
And was the cause of much consternation.

One of the horses broke free of it's gate.
The jockey was taken much by surprise.
The horse turned to face the others.
Was that a smile that now appeared?

A murmur went through the crowd,
Have you ever seen such a thing?
Then a collective gasp was heard
As the horse revealed himself.

For that Masked Marvel was none other
Than the brave and dutiful officer;
The name should have been a giveaway
but no-one could have guessed.

Dear John

I wanted to write you a letter
But it didn't seem appropriate
When you were such a pain in the arse
And now it's time to reciprocate.

I decided to do something else,
Something quite devilish, in fact.
I went to the doctor to ask for help
And didn't spare the tact.

The doctor gave me something
That I think will help me to mend,
A magic little potion
With you on the receiving end.

Because the doctor was a special one,
Not of the medical kind,
But of the mysterious persuasion
And could help me in my bind.

Now every time you sit down
I hope you'll think of me
As those little pockets of pain
Fill me with such glee.

You'll never know how I managed it,
My neat little trick -
A dose of your own medicine
Because you were a dick.

Or maybe I should use a different phrase,
One a little closer to home
After all, you were an arsehole,
And this is a wonderful syndrome.

I hope the irritation comes
In heaps and mounds and piles
Because the thought of it
Has given me endless smiles.

Sweet Memory

I wish I could forget that day,
Like I have so many other days,
So many better days that should be remembered
Rather than this day, of all days.

It was a Tuesday morning.
So ordinary and dull.
Like every other Tuesday morning.
Only it wasn't, and never would be.

Where the memory takes us is beyond our control,
It trips and stumbles on those random snippets -
The colour of your tie, what you had for breakfast -
But leaves behind that which everyone else recalls.

I didn't remember that the war had ended.
I didn't remember which horse won.
I didn't remember who was leading the country.
But I remembered you spilled jam on that awful yellow tie.

Only it wasn't jam.
It was something else.
It was that horrific red.
The kind that drips and drips and drips.

Maybe I heard you fall forward in your chair.
In my head there is only silence.
Your face pressed against the table.
I must have screamed but in my head was silence.

I remember that young man from next door.
Jack? John? Jeremy?
His eyes were bright blue in front of me.
He slapped me. That young man struck my cheek.

I don't remember the sting.
It must have stung, mustn't it?
His eyes looked so apologetic.
I remember forgiving those eyes.

I remember the interminable wait.
Days I sat there waiting.
Only minutes really. Not even an hour.
Until they came for you.

You remember that china vase you mother gave us,
the one which never seemed to match anything.
I broke it.
I don't remember doing it, but there it is.

I can see the kitchen as if I'm sitting in it now.
That striped wallpaper you said would liven up the room
But all it did was give me a headache
Until it finally faded.

I thought you might fade.
How the corner of your mouth would twitch
When you remembered something amusing.
But it's still bright in my mind.

The scream of the ambulance in the driveway.
That doesn't fade, either.
There's no other sound in the world.
Only that constant scream.

I must remember to clean up that vase.
Someone will step on it.
They will cut their foot on the broken pieces.
The pieces that aren't there anymore.

Of course it's not there now.
The young man picked it up.
Yesterday? Last week? A year ago?
I don't remember.

I remember breaking it.
It shattered as it struck the wall.
I can hear the siren screaming still.
Only there's no-one here but me.

No-one else to blame for that mess.
No-one else to yell at, to laugh with, to cry with.
No-one else to hug until I fall asleep.
No-one else but the silence.

I'm glad you can't remember the silence.
That terrible deafening silence.
The silence that filled my mind.
That dreaded silence that pulled me into the void.

I wanted to forget.
I wanted to slip away unnoticed.
That young man wouldn't let me.
He shouted at me. He struck my cheek.

I don't remember how I got here.
I don't remember where here is.
I don't remember why it's important.
Sometimes I don't remember that I've forgotten.

But that drop of jam on that awful yellow tie.
That drop of jam that isn't jam.
I don't remember what it should be.
Why can't it just be jam?