– photographs and messages from inside the Sausurrean Bar –

Category: and if you ever come by here

Archive for the ‘and if you ever come by here’ Category

Sunday, March 13th, 2016

What, then, is the speed of dark?
A heartbeat, my friend, a heartbeat.


Friday, October 10th, 2014

Our Last Pages

I have torn out
all of our last pages,
burned them
in the trash,
in the fire,
in my heart.

You are the one who now
has to remember us,
if anyone shall.

I am forgetting;
Am I forgotten?

(I did not burn them – I locked them away in my darkness).

Friday, February 3rd, 2012

Metaphorical Curtains

Fragmentary words about
metaphorical curtains
haunt me, from time to time,
and make me wonder
if you rue choosing them;
on clearsighted nights,
when the darkness seems close.

Stars wait; darkness waits; silence waits.

On clearsighted nights I discover myself waiting.

Clearsighted nights
call for oblivion.

Saturday, September 24th, 2011

Autumn’s Equations

The gambles of the year when towers fell,
when change came and loss ruled summer’s court;
That autumn’s equations were always going to be skewed.

Time and chance and blustery days,
and while flowers grow in autumn’s park,
autumn’s gamesters deal from stacked decks.

Perspex algebra of emotion;
bust one, bust all.

All that’s left – shuffle the cards once more, roll the hard six;
solitaire a game ironcast giants have no patience for.

Would that we had not played,
and were instead
still talking.

Monday, July 4th, 2011

spiral me along (june 2001)

A spring of window colours fades
into greyscale;
early summer, drawing closer.
Secret anxieties that I spiral along;
that spiral me along; alone.
Yet I would not cede voluntarily
this maelstrom’s horizon.
Chains, if chains these are,
then chains these are of my own forging,
from which unchained my heart cannot be.
Always I’d rather break along with you
than turn my back and leave you to face
the darkness – unknown.
Time too short for giving you less than all I am or can be.
Even all my chips less than you deserve.
A watch for falling stars
my only secret,
desperate remedy.
A miracle, for you.
How I wish I had one.
But if I am a conjurer of anything at all,
then it’s only one of mundane wor(l)ds,
the stars out of reach.

Tuesday, April 26th, 2011

Late, late to the party (2011)

I had turned
my face, my ears, away
from music for a long time.
Tuned myself away,
too far to hear your melodies;
your harmonies; your song.

Now here/hear then these words, all I can craft in return,
obscure black pixels on glowing screens
the most imperfect reply.

if answers you’re looking for, out here,
if answers should find you,
if you ever come by here,
these seven (#7) (for a secret) then are mine (never told):
I’m very sorry;
I hope you’re well.
I wish you all the best, should you find this.
And should you never find this –
well, my wishes stand,
(have stood),
just the same, in the silence.
Take care –
(‘ -, Friend.’ Robin Hood would say fondly, were [s]he allowed).

Wednesday, June 9th, 2010

Underground Station (2009, rev 2010)

They find you like the emblems you find in memories:
Faded, gritty.
No sound, no colour; only silence, only shadows.
Run your hand along an escalator handrail
and get drawn into a different, darker Hammersmith.
Overwrought by the iron giants of memory,
yet gilded by unexpected laugher; shining,
between the fading pages of the past.
Fingers trail on, along cool glass, cool metal, cool stone;
along silent questions, pleas, entreaties, evocations.
Remember? They ask.
Remember the girl clutching fading sun flowers?
Forget, forget the rest.