As the days go by
He finds her attempts to cling to him
Becoming pathetic
And he is trying to love her
Without being spiteful.

He has left before,
but this time
he takes nothing,
the world is exactly as it was,
missing only a body,
and the note pinned to the fridge says
‘replace me’.



You told me I was as crazy
As a foaming horse
With its legs running
All up and down spines
[higgle piggle piggle]
In compass points

You told me I was piano music
At the sharp end of highness
And you were my queen
Of the flattened thirds.

Keep reading the moments

From the block cue card

We pick to fit

Projected subtitles

Eventually there will come

(A coincidence)

A face in the mandala

In the inkblot, in the fractal

Just as you look up

Their eye turns down

And your synapses

Darkened with that umber lethargy

Not imbued with discretion

Enough to separate

Eyes that widen

From fate

Meleagro’s Tale

Apparently too obscure for the English version of Wikipedia, Meleagro was a character in Greek mythology who I believe is mentioned in Paradise Lost. This is one of two pieces that I wrote while in my final year of university, mainly about someone who I knew at that time.



Meleagro was a boy xylomancer
He knew that he was pledged to a simple branch
Joined like splinters along a vein
Until the timber became ash and smoke
And then he too, would become dust

So he took the branch in his round hands
And rode it to the coast on his horse’s back
Its rippled flanks shuddered to a halt
At the top of a wide cliff face
The sawdust wind stung his eyes

Meleagro clasped the branch
Between the palms of his hands,
And threw it with full force
To the fury of the waves.
He clapped with glee,
And knew that he would live forever

The sun plodded its course
Arcing and arcing across the years,
Meleagro found himself on an island
With one whose eyes were a tremor,
A palm leaf body laid on the beach

They nodded heads
To spend forever on this island,
And Meleagro knew forever would be just that.
The other, in happiness, ran to the shore
And skipped the rippled waves for driftwood
To make fire

Dragged the wood up the beach between trickles of sweat,
Splinters threatening to prick into veins,
But never quite denying that which was known to one.
As the damp branches smouldered under
Smoke and sun,
Meleagro felt his heart sink,
A tumult unleashed within him

He thought as he sank
Of waves of sand moving over him
How he could have broken the wood
Like a young heart, and scattered it

He thought of the flame extinguished
Those eyes, alone above the smoke
Burning, feet sinking in the sand at
The shore’s edge

He thought with sadness
Of the young palm leaf
As he melted into particles
Embraced the shallow loop
Of his quill’s final stroke.



The thing is

We push them away because we no longer need them. Or maybe because we feel things growing thinner, more stretched. There have been too many false starts, too many disappointments. Too many empty boxes tied with pretty ribbon.

But as soon as we push them away we yearn to pull them back again. To ease the pain. The pain we just caused. To become free, everyone must suffer.

Am I moving forward, or stepping over the edge?

Life is strange with its little twists and turns. If I had stayed in medical school, I would probably be a doctor somewhere in England now, most likely married to another doctor with whom I went to school. But then I would never have met C and done so many other things I’ve done in my life.

We just got back from Disney world, which aside from being a great vacation I think brought us somewhat closer. Perhaps one reason C has not wanted our relationship to go anywhere recently is that she feels she spends most of her time being shouted at by her mother and doing chores, and having a relationship would only worsen things in that regard (she would have less time for those things). But being on holiday together may have made her realize that being around me is pleasant, and perhaps living together would be enjoyable.

Although she is very careful about what she says (which is funny in someone so genuine and perhaps slightly gullible, in the nicest possible way), we did hold hands quite a bit, and she slept on my shoulder several times during our trip. It reminded me of when we were very close friends years and years ago. She also said some sweet things about me. On Friday she said she wished I didn’t have to leave to go back to my house for the evening, which was really lovely. It being a vacation, I had the opportunity to do something a little romantic, so I had flowers delivered to our room on the last night of our stay. Not very original I know, but there aren’t too many options for romantic things you can do with a child around and have delivered to your hotel room…

Anyway, I think she is careful because she knows I love her and she doesn’t want to lead me on. So either she doesn’t think that holding hands is significant, or she is enjoying that closeness on some level or other.

We have actually discussed living together starting in November. Or should I say living together again, since we actually did so in 2006/2007 for a brief period until she moved here. Her mother would be moving out and we would share the house she is living in together. It would be a big change for me, but also a big risk because I would not have any legal or renters rights (I wouldn’t be on the mortgage or have any official rental agreement) so if her mother decided to move back in, I wouldn’t have anywhere to live. And I know at least one of my friends thinks it’s a bad idea, but the thought of being closer to her and maybe seeing her every day is wonderful.

Longer term, C has said she wants us to live together somewhere else. I suggested that we could get a three bedroom place and have one bedroom as a study/homework room, which would mean she and I would have to share a bedroom. And no, this isn’t some devious plot. Most of my current living room is my work space, since I work from home, and most houses simply don’t have enough space for a living room to be half work space.

And yes, sharing a bed with someone you love who doesn’t want to touch you can be heartbreaking, but I think it might be worth it. So, my life may be moving forward again shortly…

The girl with the brown eyes

One of my friends recently advised me that it’s time to get over C and move on with my life. I don’t agree, but I appreciate where she’s coming from. I think she doesn’t want me to spend all my life waiting for something that will never happen. But it led me to the following quotation from Hermann Hesse:

One must continue to go forward if one wants to fathom the world. And you have already had what is best and finest from the girl with the brown eyes, and the farther you are from her the better and finer it will be