Keys. Shoved through the letterbox
before I got up-
in an envelope with a note:
Could I (please) feed the cat…
Gone away? Good for her!
Car on the drive. Took a taxi. I think.
To the airport? Didn’t say.
******* with rain-
still, had best leave my shoes on the step just the same.
Obsessed with cleanliness and hygiene-
that’s why he left.
Who, in their right mind, puts cream-coloured carpet in a…?
Door. Not locked. Nearly fell through it.
Strange. She forgot?
Kitchen. Freezer’s empty, switched off.
No cereal. No tins.
Utility room. Spotlessly clean-
twelve! two-kilogram bags of Go-Cat Complete.
Planning to be gone quite a while. I think.
Playroom. Packed up. Kids staying with Nan.
She wants to redecorate before they come home?
Great. A fresh start. I think.
Bedroom. Suitcase on the wardrobe.
Bought a new one? Smaller. Lighter perhaps.
Makes sense. After all- she is travelling alone. I think.
Bathroom. Pristine. Almost empty.
Almost. Macleans and a toothbrush,
in a glass on the sill.
I didn’t think about that.
Until now.

Moments of sanity, stark and white
Glistening clarity, clearly bright,
Dreadful slowness bogging down
Head confusion's clogged and brown.

Pulsing pain behind the eye
Ever there, ever dry,
Concentration...How do I?
When this very sky...does fry.

Fight the fight and slug it out
Hold proceedures stolid route,
Step by step with gritted teeth
Despite the liquified... beneath.

Confidence... important toy
Utilize illusions ploy,
Keep the basic image sound,
Keep control's facade well found.

Struggle with the swirling mist
Make the sliding brain persist,
Make each step a simple move
Trust it all just might...improve.

Keep it calm, stay serene
Keep contention squeeky clean,
Take the pills, breath the air,
Another day you might be there?

Hold her close and kiss her hair,
It's her warm strength which blocks despair,
She's the rock that holds me tight
Holds at bay this ******* fright.

Fight the fight and stall for time
Take the pills, appear sublime,
Concentrate as best you can
Wear the strokes ...as history man!


Marshalg
Victoria Park Tunnel
25 September 2010

My father gathered tinder from outside
and left the fire burning
as he disappeared upstairs.
My mother said goodnight.

Her fleece followed her
like Charlie Brown
away and up to bed.

The  cheap green leather
where I sat
felt shiny and thin
and big enough for two.

My other half I imagined
tucked up and dreaming of me
wrapped as one
and breathing in her breath.

There’s something in the fire wood
side by side
two twigs have met
in flaming consumation.
All that remains is death.

It’s not like I had a choice,
but my fasting continues.
Giving up for a spell
the **** that greases my mind,
the love that lets me sleep,
the spark that ignites me.
I’ll admit,
it’s probably for the best.
It’s like they say,
“Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

However,
here I am
awake
when I should be quietly slumbering
tucked comfortably into my head.
Instead I face
what will eventually come,
the theme of my youth
abruptly wrenched from me.

No one wants to be dependent,
but I am addicted,
confined to a cage
of my own construction.
A cage with comfy chairs
and all the confections
I need
to occupy my machine.
I’ll scuttle back there and
this particular fast will end soon enough
but I feel the end creeping up.
Its only day four,
and things are getting pretty weird.

When life comes to a point of light
trapped between the folds of dreams,
something needs to be done
in order for me to let go
and keep moving on.

When the light filters through the branches,
through my window shades
and through my sleepy eyes,
it hums me a tune of lost planets
and their eleven moons
playing amongst the rings.

The sweet nectar melody calls
and I start to walk.

I walk away slow into the languid ooze
humming and stepping the song
I will never remember
even if I choose to.

I walk slow,
as if I come from so far away
I never expect to arrive.
And that’s just perfect.

The sky and the street
and the breath of the trees
gently caress and remove the stress
in void waves of undulating bliss.

To free my mind and body
of the barbed spikes
that rob the eternity trapped in each moment,
I got to keep walking,
because if I stop
thoughts of the past
and worries of the future
collapse my ability to see, to hear, to feel
and to breathe.

I walk slow.
I got nowhere to go.
I got a moment stretched to infinity.

And that’s just perfect.