29 (and ten years ago, I)

spent a month by the dockers and the Saints,
then lusted after pricey trainers in the Lanes.
Came home to the old place but no old friends,
felt old new pains start again.
Lost hope and grip and chance and love and self respect.
Pressed stop, ejected, then tore up the tape.

Gave up

Bottomed-out, took baby steps and left the nest.
With prickly nerves, I lived a foot above my head.
Met people kind enough to take me as I was,
though geeks discern none – they see with no ‘because’.
My jump was higher than I honestly believed,
but I still spent a month sure I’d been deceived.

Got paid and found that nothing really ever changed.
Nearly lost the reigns and put on loads of weight.
Found myself and cried and gave the boy a hug.
Looked for reason, found a song, fell back in love.
Now I’m looking round but ought to look ahead,
’cause Google thinks it’s forty years until I’m dead.

Poem: But I love you

My cat
 over the garage,
 my laptop
 just that.
 And my washing's out,
 memory foam's aired,
 and I want to join my cat so bad.
 And my other cat
 found a bee hive
 and won't let it be
 but it's not funny
 to them.
 It's been so hot
 though it's early May.
 Smoking baby blue,
 delicate veins of green,
 and purple hangs down from above.
 The motion of bees,
 spasmodic wooden slaps,
 and birds calling one and other out.
 Acrid, day-old, oil smoke,
 in my hair or t-shirt,
 rum stuck up my nose,
 and alone I was king
 where my everything spun as one,
 and I want it
 but I lost it
 when you came back.
 But I love you.

My Goldfish Flutters

Hanging from a hook
under my heart; 
a goldfish in a bag 
from a fairground in my teens. 
If always it was there, 
and since then I learned its words, 
or it grew in response, 
I don't know. 
It makes no difference 
that hormones settled.
It pays no mind 
to victories since.

I sit here
and its tail flutters,
uncoded in my blueprints: 
the miracle balance 
of bone and muscle. 
She tells me it's a construct 
of wayward associations 
but my truth 
is my life 
and I'm here 
because I lived it. 

So take my truth 
and take my past
and leave a child. 
And I'd love to loosen 
but the handrail 
I've warmed so nicely. 
And I guess that it's true 
what they say 
about change, 
and age. 

But I'm not living enough for one 
and my orange friend makes two. 
So he flutters; 
and my world shakes.

#ScaryStoriesIn5Words