SONNETS

light

light seeks me out even when i don’t want
its gift. light is friendship, across this dark
and lonely world, it is the life we aren’t
ready for, we choose instead lonely, stark

worlds to be in, created in our heads
we choose instead to be alone, but if
we are brave enough to leave our ghost beds
then we will feel the truth that is the gift

of friendship, we will feel the dark recede
as if it were never there, as if it
had no power, exploiting lonely need
to be loved, we grow, slowly, bit by bit

until we are ourselves, until we are
the ones we are meant to be, without scars.

14th July 2013

dark

darkness is my friend, it soothes me, it holds
me, i am in its thrall, it is easy
to let go, to drown in it through the cold
night, through the hard-learned pain, i want to see

the dawn’s light, feel it lift my spirit but
when i reach for it the darkness just takes
hold, it knows me, it knows my scars and cuts
them, bright red and fresh, but none of this makes

a difference to me. i want the dark
i crave it like a drug, it alone can
let me sleep, can let me be, a hard, stark
reality, i love the dark more than

i love myself, and that truth will haunt me
till i can finally set myself free.

13th July 2013

diary

this strange challenge that i have taken on,
this sonnet-a-day nonsense has become
a diary for me,  my reticence gone
i am open to this world, this life done

vicariously, spoken softly in
words that should haunt me, but do not, words that
hold me and hint at what my real sin
is, selfishness, this life is where i’m at

but is not me, i have lived a different
time and place, i have been better than i
am, but still my slowly indifferent
nature slows me down, makes me ask just why

i am here, and now, and forever, gone
is certainty, this world is close to done.

12th July 2013

a different kind of strength

this is an odd english summer, the sun
is shining,  people seem to be happy,
and andy murray has won wimbledon.
i never thought that i would ever see

a british winner in my lifetime, but
he is made of stronger stuff than most, he
lived through worse than most can guess at, yet cut
that part away, remade his town to be

the home of the greatest british tennis
player since…ever, he has re-written
more than just his life, he has made a wish
for peace, redemption, come true, and bitten

the bug of lawn tennis into a new
generation, by winning, staying true.

11th July 2013

Sonnet after listening to Tom Waits (i)

brighton, dawn over a weary beach “i
never saw the morning till i stayed up
all night”, too true and right today, the sky
laughs at me in its reds and golds, i cup

my hands against the early chill, warm breath
bleeds into my palms; i pick some stones from
the beach, throw them, but as soon as they left
my hand, i knew then, my hopes quickly gone,

they splash as mocking laughter, they know me,
know i am not who i wish to be,  know
that after all this pain, i’m still not free
of my past, i wish that i could just go

back and make it different, but that lie
is gone, we learn to live, we learn to die.

10th July 2013