Pieces on Me©

I wonder if you are crying as you look away,
Off into that far distance where the camera lies,
Something seems to haunt the way you stand,
Maybe it’s the cold floor against your strong bare feet,
Or the thoughts that float though your unaffected,
Mind I wish I could see into see what you perceive.

Does Elephant stalk your dreams and gunshots echo?
Do you find people want to know the guy we see behind,
The camera you always hold or stand in front a mask,
Passers-by want to witness what you see behind that lens,
Where are you looking whilst you stand still for all this time?
Have to try and not move as the camera took your pose.

Jewellery wraps itself around your arms and hands,
I want to ask your silent face if any of them hold,
Any kind of meaning to you or do you just match,
With the flannel that you covered your torso with,
Jeans hanging low on your hips as if you want to,
Cover the end frays giving your indie kid status away.

Those words you sent offered me some new hope,
Maybe you aren’t just that guy from the silver screen,
An image of emotions made up of 26 different exposures,
How long did you spend trying to make yourself seem real?
It seems like it’s a never-ending task to seem real to pretence,
And seem fake to those who demand the real all over. 

I’ll write you an ode and address it to your lower limbs,
Hope you find these words comforting as you work your words,

Though images and ask me for help to relieve this writers block.

30 days early and Another Blame to hold

Six years and the halls do ring again,
‘Boom, then no more screams’ headline,
Do you blame the culture again for this?
Ask a rock song for a motive it never knew,
‘Lockdown, Lockdown’ marks the paper print,
A call so pointless when the scars won’t heal.

Loose the family, who helped you grow to this,
Calls to mothers because you’re scared and young,
A wooden door now a shield from silver shards,
‘No, quit, no Jeff, quit, quit’ a desperate plea,
This seems to happen just when the storm has calmed,
Now even security’s no longer a barrier to intent.

When will Hitler have his fill of heartbreak?
Suspect nazi learning as a cause for pain,
Gothic markings made a stand you saw,
A disillusioned youth with tendencies,
That’s what you said when he walked your halls,
He seemed ‘weird’; scratch that word from use.

We’ve studied the people that came before,
You came after the films we watched with awe,
Trying to find a reason why a hall held pain,
Breaking open motives to find them empty,
‘I don’t much care for jail’ you said before,
Maybe now the screams will mark your hell.

Based on the Novel, Oranges are not the only fruit - jeanette winterson 

A Mark against your purity

You are my Virgin Mary mother,
I am your deaf missionary,
Lost amongst the words you throw to shame me,
You taught me rules to read the world,
I am outcast in these moral cursed lines.

My cat-grey girl gave me up for you
Marked a page in the bible for me,
Denied and given a cross to bear,
I slept like I knew the right path,
I could see the marks across my palms.

I became a man in all your eyes,
You let me teach them right from wrong,
Took the blame when you thought I was lost,
I was the little lamb you took to be slaughtered.
Exercise the demons you think live within,
Make my own society for the lost again.  

I spat at the feet of him,
That was for all of you who know,
For those that pat my arm and forgive,
I’m not going to change for forgiveness.  
To you I was the mark upon your purity,
I found beyond this love you made a life,
A world when the ice would melt my heart.

You softened like a harshly worn carpet,
Still bowed in front of him up there,
Maybe you’ll tell me one day where all this begun.

Come in Manchester, This is kindly light.

White Tapestries

White within a new whiteness,

Just black eyes and greyness staring back,

Cold solid soil against the hoof,

Marked colours blazing against

A muddy tapestry of wool entwined.

Sideways standing bracing forth,

With wilderness at every side again,

Grey against a well-worn grey once more,

Black eyes blinking into the forcing rain

patches of shelter already taken.