THERE IS A HEDGEHOG

rabbit

white giant. hollow to the ears, he hears. never pliant in silence, pink eyes company for all-nighters. pink knows ink grooves and grinds and ink grows and ink shows and paws together, disapproves. altogether disapproves. ink grooves are deep and when each sheep sleeps pink keeps the fence. intense nervousness turns and stern black ferns threaten curves and angles contradict angers and hollow carrots.

troll

lines sink into skin thick around flies, eyes so blue they’re black, so black they ripple. the fickle wrinkles of a mind are in the blue, in the mind the gap, the blind gap, the gap that slips between upper and lower lips, only visible in the miserable shadow of the shadow of a nose. nose round and pointed and pale in slight light, brown like a half-indian tan staring down staring down stealing ceiling fan, sealing searing ripples from over brushed green crushed spikes like lights seen by ants and a heart the size. no pants but an art that lies. pink stained stomach unstrained and bare contours to spare, to share, round brown contours thick skin and ears, fears, tears and wrinkles. the wrinkles never bothered us but you look so.

troll

the one with short hair is the man. pink diamond.

troll

more often lost than found, babies cannot have tattoos. even the blue haired babies cannot have tattoos even in blue and even the most irresponsible parents cannot tattoo babies when they are more often lost then found.

sheep

the great sheep are gay and the great sleep in gales and the great graze. the greet will stay and the pale bell’s bleat beckons and gold. young but old endless black eyes endless black sees. the seas are curls. they are curtains, are courage and curve and swerve and swirl and sneeze. in cartoon dreams platoons and playful. in cartoon dreams endless drowning grey swoons. heavy stares but blankly but blunt and bendy but blessing. pale brown stale if not baked and not at all and not at all but paint. mistake the curls and believe the girls. for there is not enough in the trough. there is not enough only fluff and the ram has gone gruff and the ram is dead and the ram is dead and the ram is dread, gone beeping or bleating or beating endless black under grey gone back. gold bleats the pale bell. gold and pale the bell gold and pale or goat and ale and frail but bearded and no tail to tell of no tale no tail to see. pink ears, pinker smile.

dinosaur

winding up a dinosaur is no fun when all he does is shake his head.

man

almost faceless yet in the space pensive and wise. a clown if desired and a soldier when required. good. wooden and fixed yet flexible to an extent. Christ or jester or best guess ballerina. inner strength resting on metal and fixed. clicks and springs and clicks and springs and push him just too far just too far just to father an imperfect.

donkey

donkey is happy. ignorance is bliss and this: donkey is happy. donkey is happy. donkey is happy and grey. donkey hears with misaligned ears and donkey has no tail but ignorance.

donkey

nodding head and wagging wire but tapping feet unsure. a feat for sure. innocent ignorance but pure impurity respawned. forewarned is four pawed but none too wise in deer’s disguise. with no fears, no ears at all, a bright red smile and painted eyes. unable to hear and unable to heed unable to decide but only dance dance dance dance dance collapse.

mother

taut and tired with pointed tale tipped and tilted under tender teeth. resigned eyes, exhausted with whispers of kittens, mischief and painted whiskers. unhurt but alert, ears up and ready, ready to pounce on bedtime. bedtime. bedtime.

The Slimy Things with Legs

all alone
I wake in the endless
quiet, cold, still
my soul in agony
and darkness
heavy on weary eyes
I dare not open
for I can feel them
crawling
the slimy things
everywhere
with legs
in flesh and open
rotting wound
for years and yet
I could not die
forgotten in the forest
buried, lost in soul and mind
and still I wake alone
all alone
back there again
in the damp, the dark, the dirt
with the agony and the slimy things
as decades danced slowly by
without me and I only wished
to die I tried to pray
but I could feel a cross
no longer round my neck, my faith
was taken with my life
brother against
brother turned
buried and left unmarked
for dead, to rot, alone
I am still
alone, so alone but living death
took pity on me and I am
no longer in the ground
I am safe in bed and clean
and I can open my weary eyes
I am safe, I am clean
and less alone. it is only
in my mind
that the slimy things
with legs live on
but they vanish
in the light
 

That Last Carefree Day

it seems like it was yesterday

but also long ago

younger and almost innocent

my whole world seemed to glow

 

but since then we have all been changed

our lives look different now

after everything that happened

I’m left wondering how

 

our world became so overcast

now I can only see

blood red clouds on my horizon

yet the sky is empty

 

the breeze no longer seems to play

the crows have no answers

the trees and I have no colour

none of us are dancers

 

the dark seems almost constant but

we shouldn't be in winter yet

and every night my sheets are soaked

in the wrong kind of sweat

 

I’m waking before the robins

and can't get back to sleep

replaying that scene in my mind

and wishing I could keep

 

us from the nightmare that followed

or somehow find a way

to go back and take a photo

of that last carefree day

 

I remember Catherine smiling

when I wasn't able

to win at cards with her and Will

at our corner table

 

but that was the last pure moment

it all began from there

our story started to unfold

in that moment where

 

the bell rings and we all look up

as he steps through the door

school finished half an hour ago

he's not been late before

 

we can tell that something happened

Kaden seems shaken up

he insists he isn't hungry

and stares into his cup

 

I see red storm clouds in his eyes

as he peers through the veil

Catherine asks him if it was bad and

he begins his tale

 

he tells us all about a man

the horrors he has seen

back then we didn't realise

just what all that would mean

 

he told us tales of this darkness

of magic, and of war

even now I can remember

his description of the gore

 

we laughed and tried to cheer him up

said it could not be true

but I replay the story now

searching for some missed clue

 

he spoke of death and destruction

he spoke of shining gold

we worried more about the man

than for the tale he told

 

but those ominous words haunt me

now that she does no more

and the story's not over yet

we know there will be more

 

looking back now upon that day

I wish we could have known

that what he'd seen would lead to this

without her I'm alone

 

and we are all drifting apart

each coping in our way

I just wish that we could return

to that last care-free day

Your Shoes

come inside love

set down your bag
hang up your coat and
please, kick off your shoes
every one else's too because
I can see how they crush
and overwhelm
you're always so careful
with other people's
feelings, thoughts, problems
but, love, you are allowed
to have your own
and you need time to just
be at home

in you

come inside, love
put your feet up
on my sofa and I'll
get the kettle on
you are always welcome in
my mind, you know
you can tell me anything
you are safe here to relax
and just be
yourself
with me, if you need to vent
to scream, to dance, to cry
you can, I promise I won't bite
and tell, and I can see your
secrets, your fears, your darkest
hopes, keeping me warm
in my grave
still

come inside, love
please make yourself
at home, I sleep like the dead but
you can let yourself in
any time of night
or day and
curl up beside me just
be yourself here, love
and rest awhile, with me
you need to take some time
for you
can't always walk
In other people's shoes

I Just Want to See Her Float

I first met my dear friend, Catherine

just two short years ago

she haunts the internet café

and exists through the flow

 

of other people's adventures

watching them come and go

as if their ordinary lives

were the best tv show

 

she's a big fan of the telly

friends and mario kart

but controlling her own future

has become her lost art

 

she always claims to be happy

but I see right through her

and she can see through me as well

I can't stay forever

 

a life indoors is not for me

and I need more than this

but every time I leave her there

I feel something's amiss

 

I know her story inside out

as much as she will tell

and she knows me from start to end

we just get on so well

 

but whenever we disagree

it turns into a wreck

her anxiety holds my words

so tight around her neck

 

I just want her to be happy

but I'm making it worse

and the last thing I'd ever want

is to add to her curse

 

so I'm afraid to go back there

and talk to her again

but I'm such a mess without her

and I need my best friend

 

she is the most beautiful soul

and she had so much drive

but it's been such a long time now

since that girl was alive

 

and she has lost touch with her place

on the physical plane

I just keep trying to help her

to venture out again

 

because she's lived for far too long

all alone and afraid

and she keeps saying that she's fine

but I'm watching her fade

 

she's afraid of the noise these days

she's afraid of the lights

and she won't even consider

stepping out in the night

 

and it scares me to think about

how she passes the time

just staring out of the window

or devouring true crime

 

'cause she's so fucking clever

and she's far too well read

but there are days when she's clearly

just a little girl, dead

 

but I'm determined to save her

so I asked what to do

and a wise old woman told me

to step into her shoes

 

she said the line I've been taking

is extremely extreme

and there is no way that Catherine

can wade into that stream

 

so I have to guide her slowly

just one step to begin

I should just be there to help her

see that someday she'll swim

 

past years of neglect and trauma

and past all the abuse

because those instincts that once helped her

are no longer of use

 

she told me one night last summer

of the day that she died

when her whole world turned against her

and her gifts turned to lies

 

she says that she has forgotten

everything that once was

she says it was so long ago

but I still sense her loss

 

she had a community once

and a life of culture

she had courage, trust and all those

visions for the future

 

she enjoyed her life in the fields

helping to look after

her neighbours, brothers and her friends

with love and with laughter

 

and that girl is still there somewhere

I can see her shine through

when she sees the latest gadgets

or reads anything new

 

that smile is something to behold

lifts spirits any day

but I see it less and less now

and I want it to stay

 

I know she can come back because

she has handled so much

with grace and determination

all she needs is a crutch

 

I want to become that for her

so she can lean on me

and I just want to see her float

I want her to be free

 

at last, I know what I should do

I'll go over tonight

I'll craft a gift to remind her

and explain myself right

 

I won't push her, simply offer

to aid her in this world

and support her resurrection

of that brave little girl

The Music

the forest is my orchestra
and my conductor
the sun
connecting everything to the music
in circadian rhythms
and eternal rhapsody
I sing of beauty, love, cruelty
my range is infinite and I
scream in harmony
with creation
from the trill of the chiffchaff
to the whistle of the reeds
the crunch of golden leaves
and the beat of a hunter's wing
the melody plays on
and over it all
my voice carries
each note endlessly
enchanting all
who dare
to listen

To Be Seen

this guilt
seeps through my
veins and I'd change if
I could
heartbeat, swear it
I'd give up my self, my fears
my blood, for us
just tell me how
I've heard
the eyes are windows
and hers are so open
so bright with attention
and experience
but not mine
and she doesn't seem
to notice
my dark tint
and taped up cardboard
cutouts, misdirection, the sleight of
hands when I kiss her
to distract us both
and keep her
on the edge
just outside
but if I let her in
god knows I want to
let her
but so does the devil
and she is full
of life, warmth, delight
but if I let her in
if I let her
see me
I'd break us both
and worse, I don't
want her to go
down
with me
but I crave
the darkest depths
and we are starting to feel
shallow breathing in my ear
that she wants me
here, now, anytime
I'm up for it
but I am too weak
to carry this guilt
on top
of all the rest and
I want to be
seen
and I want her
to see through the tint
because
if this was real
she'd see me
she'd know me
anywhere, everywhere
in every sense
and I'd know, wouldn't I?
if it was true
if it was her
if it was finally safe
to come out
and let the right one
slip in