davidgoulding84@interpoems.com
I have 253 friends
the girl said to the deaf, loving wallpaper
my heart is spilled through trivialities for hours
my gorgeous cartoon life is chunked
in technicolour to sundry all
the screened and framed page moves, jumps and changes
buzzing and flashing, alive in silence all day long
I am so lucky
I would tell someone
But there’s no-one there
TAINTED
Just when you think
it can go no higher
it doesn’t.
and just when you think
it can go no lower
it does.
The eagles who, beyond distance and above mountains
dreamed knowingly awake and soared, then fell
to where their own swift shadows,
became defined and snow-lined
at the point of seizure
Now, are vultures who tear peck and scrap,
hysterical and blind and their claws
clutch, deadly and stubborn, the stripped bones
`of a recent yet long-deceased, half-buried,
never mourned but sadly unforgotten carcase.
Please:
give up,
move on
and let
some dignity
survive.
CLOSURE
When the court has heard the last appeal
When a bedtime cosy book is read
and the covers shut
When the hateful storm still rages
And winter is beyond the sealed front door
then that is proper closure.
“That will help us find closure”
No it won’t. Ever
The act of punishing or admission or revelation
is still needed, but:
Closure in the realm of death can never be.
Memory through years can dim or calm
but it won’t remove
Accept, go on, expect no cure
Filter the pain into those other parts of life
Send closure to the land of myth and dreams
Nightmares admitted will do less harm
DON’T ASK FOR TOO MUCH
It was the same sun we felt on our eyelids
The clouds that we blinked at were ours to name.
We felt the same breeze
And we heard the same sea.
Bodies together, dreams never the same.
We touched the same earth as dust filtered through fingers
And lived the same day as we breathed the same air;
But as eyes searched eyes
And hands found hands
Was it really one thought as we lay there?
Later, where daylight had given us substance,
Fantasies filled the void round the dark tender bed.
The pleasures seem shared
And the dreams seem fulfilled,
But how can I know that my lyrics were read?
It’s fatal to seek the perfection of unity.
By wanting it all I might lose so much.
A child, though from two,
Is completely itself:
The future is flown, the past is your touch.
BEST BEFORE
Best before the 3rd of March:
at midnight on the 2nd
it will explode
Best before supper:
as afterwards you are always
too tired
Best before you go to sleep:
drowsing, that milky drink
will mess the sheets
Best before you board the plane:
you cannot get relief until
you’re in the clouds
Best before you start your job:
the special year will never
come again
Best before you say goodbye:
those words, apart, will have no strength
to clear the air
Best before worst:
and worst before mediocre,
extremes for ever!
Best beforehand:
not underhand or underfoot
but footloose and handsome
Best B4:
as A1 is just a little
too ambitious
Best before you die:
And even better before they do.
Ask any survivor