My god, what happened

Were you not once great

Boastful and scarred with hubris

Did the world not revolve around

Your gold hearted presence

And women would sing

And drinks flowed

Cars crashed and

Nights fell

And inside there was a soul

Underneath the sounding fireworks

And hormonal chatter

A soul aiming straight and true

Were you not once waiting

And given up

And sodden with autumn rain

Orange leaves a portent of

Your secret shallows

But a little curse

Of an ordinary life

Has now killed all that

One

Two

There are no mistakes in life

Some people say.

Anything

In a moment of fleeting sanity

Caught between the door closing and

My opening it again

A pause

And as though a fervent prayer

Escaped me via sacred breath

I looked to the ceiling and simply exhaled

anything

To nothing and no one

With no expectation of

Response or favour

And then it was gone

Like a bottle in the ocean that holds

A one word note

And I have to no avail

Spent the remainder of today

Trying to understand what it means.

Tenacity

Such tenacity is required

To even tolerate

These single-celled creatures

It is our impotence

And not our pity

Or love for them

That prevents a massacre

The ability to withhold

To suppress and fossilise this

Hatred

Of such abject stupidity

An unenviable skill

Allowing us to falsify our

True intentions

The further down you dig

The deeper into silence you go

Words becoming piss in the wind

It is only now action that counts

And like the Zen masters of old

If you are unable or unwilling

To act

Remain in sacred silence

Until the time to conquer arrives

Such tenacity is required

To even tolerate

These single-celled creatures

What tenacity

It is often too heavy a burden to bear.

The chase

There are dogs on his tail

They are old and failing

But always

There

He need not run at

Full speed

But must keep

Moving

They never gain ground

But are within

Earshot

Growling

Teeth clear with

Spit and blood

He must keep moving

They are old and failing

But still

There

And

They run him through town and

City

Across country road and dust track

Always the same

There is no sleep

No rest

But there are

Dreams

His great idea is this -

To stay that little bit faster

Be not quite as old

Fail just a little less

But that’s not really living

Is it.