Saturday, 29 May 2010


In the moments before death
I wanted to say the truth
but I did not know what it was

How can we say goodbye
to this extraordinary
unasked for mystery
that pretends itself
into every ordinary
crevice of experience?

The un-asked-for gift
is now asked for back

Death standing over me with a scythe
and a clipboard
looking slightly apologetic
"Erm… excuse me…
would you mind going now?"

I look up into his deep blue eyes
I lean towards him and put my arms around his broad shoulders
He winces slightly
Then I whisper softly with my cheek pressed against his:
"In the moments before death
I want to tell you the truth
but I do not know what it is"

Monday, 17 May 2010

Comment about a comment

Its curious how we bare resentments
I mean its curious how I bare resentments
(and don’t expect I’m that unusual)

For example,
for example
there must be thousands of people just like “him”,
All over the country
All over the world
With their beautiful wives and beautiful children
And looking back on a life time as successful whatever
Having had 3 or 4 successful careers in 3 or 4 glamorous professions
And having done all this great stuff for the betterment of humanity

And I don’t hate any of those other thousands because
Because I don’t know any of the those other thousands
I only knew him
And that was a long time ago

Like the English hate the French
And the Mancs hate the Scousers
And brothers are jealous of brothers
But not jealous of blokes they never met
Even though the blokes they never met
Had everything they ever wanted and didn’t get
(and more than their brothers did by far)
And so on
And so on
We despise the people we were closest to
I mean I despise the people I was closest to
(and I don’t expect I’m that unusual)

And here he is
Showing up on my facebook
A friend of a friend of a friend
Making a comment about a comment about a comment