Every experience you will ever have
will add to your own Newton’s Cradle.
Every pendulum added will swing past you
as you grow ever older,.
The slap of the clearest memory,
fading into the distance again.
Only to swing back and slap you again
when you least expect it.
Where to begin with such an endeavor,
a project to work on in fits and starts,
snapshots of my life to prove I was here,
a decent enough self-portrait or poetic autobiography,
Let’s start with nightmares.
My earliest memory is a nightmare.
giants, a storm and a strange woman i haven’t met yet.
My most recent nightmare was this morning,
cars and people swept away in a flash flood,
5am I awoke my heart beating so hard
to a ravaging thunderstorm outside our window,
the worst storm I have ever known.
The first lust I truly felt, 12, a friend of mine,
camping on the edge of a forest not far from home,
tall yellowing grass, adders and camp fires.
He was wearing shorts and nothing else,
hands idly down the front playing with himself,
sweating rolling down his chest and stomach,
brief glimpses inside his shorts as his hands moved.
My first cigarette, 16, drunk and in drag.
we were all dressed up for The Rocky Horror Show.
Covered in glitter and heckling people driving by,
lipstick smeared reckless abandon and a great show.
Purple walls, cheap wine and wrong kisses later,
the afterparty was truly a mess for those involved,
we still reminisce about that night to this day.
A weekend to cherish forever, 22, he met me.
He was 28 and so beautiful, we danced all night.
Making love and listening to records we loved,
mix CDs we had made for each other and our stories.
We made long distance work, we moved in together,
6 years later now and we’re engaged to be married…
all of the regrets all still there
never without them behind my eyes
i have regretted everything i have ever done
the good the bad the indifferent
the positive the negative the fundamental
stabbing me in the face every time
the flickers of things
an ever present uncertainty of my choices
it’s the generalised anxiety disorder
but cloudy thoughts blur the logic
i still can’t figure out
if i’ve ever done the right thing
A pupil to the study of cinema,
a participant in world history,
is it wrong to wish for the alien invasion?
The unification it would bring
either in death or in life and in both.
The short sharp shock
of “here’s your waste of time”
My own politics have been lost on this,
I had a point once.
made up of parts of everything
only to belong to nothing
a life spent in the cracks of the world
the days are bleeding out
these days into
need to take stock and the stick
taking myself way too seriously
stop looking inwards
let the light in and out
and the dark