Twitter ye not

Greetings Mudpuddlees, I am posting today with news of a diversion from the norm for me. I have decided to document the world and my life in verse - well, technically, in Haiku. I have converted my twitter account to now be a dumping ground for my thoughts on life, the universe and nothing at all in a Haiku format. For those of you that do not know Haikus, it is a short form of poetry, with many ridiculous rules, but fortunately the modern English version of this Japanese artform is 3 lines of 5, 7 and 5 syllables respectively. For example;

The air that I breathe,
Though supporting endeavour,
Is thick with failure.

The twitterati amongst you will be able to follow me on @Haikusareus.

The reason for this diversion? I have been a lazy little Mudpuddler and have let the habit of writing slip over the past two or three months. Its not good enough! I am hoping this will keep me in the habit of forming my ideas and thoughts into words - which will, in turn, force out the classic idea I have had - the novel that encompasses a single moment in two people's lives, but darts back and forth filling in blanks you never even realised were there.... trust me on this, its a doozy.

Reworked, The Statue

The statue of the lovers wrapped,
In warm embrace endures.
Their features worn, and indistinct,
As time young love matures.

He holds and looks upon her,
Sweet angel in his arms.
She looks back at him, adoring,
Held captive by his charms.

This gaze, held for the ages,
Was to put doubt in its place,
But the fading years betray them,
They cannot recall each other's face.

I am the instigator

I'm really not the nicest guy
When it comes to playing fair,
I'd rather your woes multiply
Than take my honest share.

Whilst you are sat there, weeping
I'll look through you like you're hollow,
My insidiousness is creeping,
Makes this hard for you to swallow.

It was always going to end like this
And I was always set to win,
You fell for my deceitful kiss,
Which made you blind to constant sin.

I found the lying easiest,
When I wore a gormless smile
That's when I'm at my sleaziest,
Playing happy families for a while.

So, I'm leaving now, because I'm free;
Take a good, long look and then,
No sight, no sound, no hint of me
Will come your way again.

The me of me

He is reflective, soft and caring,
Bears his burdens heavily.
He’s not prone to easy pairing,
Flies solo all too cleverly.

He’ll debate on technicalities,
Or chide you with a smile.
But he’ll miss your similarities,
By at least a country mile.

If you show him some compassion
You’ll win a loyal friend,
Just don’t ask him about fashion,
Or which bouquet to send.

He sees beauty all around the place.
But won’t recognise his own,
Hides tears behind a stony face
For his love, in secret, grown.

And so he never questions why
He wakes each dawn, alone.
A tragedy, for he is I,
And such frailty I’ve shown

The secret

No-one knows, as I never talk,
Of my aching love for you.
I keep it bottled, under cork
Where it is safe, and true.

A weakness, or insanity,
That I should fail to act?
It's not for pride, or vanity,
I am mired here with tact.

Oh, I wish I'd told you months ago
Win back the time we've lost,
But I'm forever taking it too slow,
To my detriment, and cost.

And yet, so simple, it should be
To set it out in words;
Paint it for you, lyrically
Like the other bees to birds.

Of course, I fear I'm not enough,
Wrong in a thousand ways.
Too nervous to blag it, off the cuff,
Lost in my nervous haze.

So, tis secretly you hold my heart
And, in sorrow, I stay quiet.
Dreaming that we are not apart
As I was brave enough to try it.

All the things I'd do for you

I'd call you in the morning,
Because I miss your voice,
Or whisk you without warning
To destinations of your choice.

When I come, I'd bring you flowers,
And a book about Peru,
We could be there in twelve hours
Give or taking one or two.

And if you need collecting
At all hours of the night
You won't stand around expecting,
Cos I'm always early, right?

On weekends we would wander
Under blue and sun-kissed skies,
Or I'd gaze at you and ponder
The depth and beauty of your eyes.

I'd take you out, carousing,
And wake with cloudy head
Which is in itself arousing,
An excuse to stay in bed.

Oh, if only I could find the way
To tell you to your face,
That when I see you, any day,
My heart begins to race.

Two steps forward, two steps back

I was going to write a piece today about the last few days and how I have been under the menacing gaze of the black dog, suffering a bout of the dreaded depression. However, I find the words are too bleak, the sentences too confused and my mood insufficiently recovered to do it the injustice it so richly deserves. So instead, a limerick.

The first thing I spotted in you
Was making me smile when I'm blue.
You make my heart leap,
That's the secret I keep,
And, oh, my love if only you knew!

Rock the heartbreak

It started with flirting, quite random
The way your twenties-self does with abandon.
Lunch morphed into date with no pause,
Had me falling for her in one course.

Of all loves that now lie in past tense,
This was the one that made the least sense.
I was wearing another man's style,
Fooling her I was all that for a while.

Of course, it came to a juddering halt,
Somehow everything was dead, and my fault.
It was all nonsense, a mistake, filthy lies
Yet I'd still drown myself in those eyes.

So remembering brings nought but profanity,
For our love was a raging insanity.
Possessed by regret and the harsh lessons learned,
Tormented, demented, lamented and spurned.

A hopeless case

He mumbles idle chatter, and hides from those three words,
He understands the bees alright, but knows nothing of the birds.
His endearing lack of confidence makes him play the waiting game,
Panicking his voice will crack next time he calls her name.
She is everything he admires, her heart as soft as his
And yet he cannot vocalise how magnificent she is.
On it will go, this foxtrot, until, at last, he breaks;
Just tell the girl you're in love with her, for both your wondrous sakes!

The drinker

Messy mind, it tortures him, thoughts stretched to ruin on the rack,
Hopes, contentment crucified, the future hides in black.
Just live for now, or perish here, comprehend your fate;
Mortal man, undignified, breathes spite and rage and hate.

Back over shoulder, mesmerised, the lies of years ago,
Downfall brought to memory, reliving blow by blow.
Trapped mind will wilt in feedback loop, the shattered mirror falls,
In pieces for another night, ‘To Oblivion!’ he calls.

And grasping now the bottle neck, to incapacity he’ll sink,
Swill it back, erase the pain, become one with the drink.
And so to wake another day, regretful and ashamed,
On shadow men, and broken heart, is all his folly blamed.

The River

How swiftly she forgot that once pledged to stay,
Referencing some illusory change as she
Slowly withdrew;
Her lips betraying an
Uncertainty her words kept hidden in
That final goodnight.
There could be no change worthy of such an
Ending in me, as an eyot I hold fast
In the stream, water passing by.
All those immersed are curious to see
One so grounded and unchanging,
That all my meetings seem as the river’s slick embrace.
It was her who let go, and me that was
Left to watch as she melted into the
Current and slowly, so slowly became
Indistinct, a part of the flow that
I must watch decline from me
To some fate the unmoving never understand.
So here I shall remain, and strain my eyes
Downstream, hoping to catch a glimpse of
Her, distinct, once again and
Wondering what events could ever uproot
Me and send me cascading in the waters
To the places I long to know.

The Smile

Was it a chance comment that made no sense,
Some of my stylish inanity?
Perhaps a hug from who knows whence,
When we crumbled, needing sanity.

It might have come on slow but broad,
It might have lit the night,
It maybe when I struck a chord,
Brought you deserved delight.

I cannot recall the reason why,
As it dwindles in the past,
That smile remembered with a sigh,
From you for me, the last.

The Black Veil

Suffocating it descends from the firmament above,
It's wonders ashamed behind the veil.
A sick caress turns to constriction,
The black deposit a chrysallis
Within which I become bleak despair.
Shielded from joy, from hope,
Even my touch carries no sensation
Here in my lonely tomb.
Here all things are but null,
Beneath the veil where daylight
Never comes,
And to this place I will return
When the sudden bitterness brings
It down as ruin upon the fallen.
I must cherish that which milks a smile
All the more, for those times
When the veil descends,
And I forget, and the world is numb.

Moonlit Stroll

She shimmers in the moonlight,
As I watch her from afar.
Her gentle contemplation soothes
Beneath my evening star.

Her hair cascades and tumbles
Yet none seem out of place,
An impossible perfection
Which frames the softest face.

Her figure graced the evening
Each curve a wave of joy.
Unparalelled in beauty,
Demure, reserved and coy.

I wish that I could tell her of
The love that burns inside,
But hope must linger, dwindling,
As it stands against the tide.

Time will take her from me,
And leave me as before,
Half a wistful melody
On an uncompleted score.

For her

Lovely, in such a way only true beauty can be,
As if she were a daisy in a fairy glade
Caressed by the breeze to catch my eye.
How I would wish for no love-me-not,
Wandering, lost, within a dream.
The star that shone so bright,
It pierced the curtain above and
Bathed me in the softening light of our beginnings,
Calling me back, back to the start,
There to wonder at the fabric of her creation.
Of the many times she smiled for me,
I treasure each and consider, wistfully,
If there is any way such an earthen soul
Could match her simple grace.

Life at the margins

He stares through the satin blackness,
Straining at each deceit playing with his eyes.
Minutes, or hours, perhaps, have passed
Since her departure forced this armistice.
Such warcraft in brokering uneasy peace,
So many hours lost to rack and ruin
For such an innocent little lie.
They are fated to live at the margins of sanity,
Forever tearing at the hearts which bind them,
Hate wearing the seductive cloak of lust
And professing itself the very yardstick of love.
The silence is unbearable;
Alone in the darkness he cannot reason,
Reality warped in cruel mockery
Without her rage to bring focus,
Clarity and a moment’s loving rest.
She will come, she must come,
And in the fire that consumes them,
His heart will beat again.

The Muse

She glides with grace, this uncommon beauty,
From whom I cannot avert my gaze.
Each step she makes seems choreographed
As a tantalising dance takes shape.
In my mind I am Astaire,
Ready to whisk her round the room,
Light-footed, light-hearted,
A whimsical coupling free from care.
Each hair behaves to perfection,
Waving and wafting, on day release,
Framing a whole new study in wonderment.
Her eyes sparkle when they set upon me,
As if interacting with the joy such attentions bring.
They draw my glance to her mouth,
Quickly upturned in a reassuring grin,
Before I retreat back to drown in those eyes
Joyous, sad, deep, flirtacious all at once.
I should content myself with that smile,
But as she turns to the pressing matters of the day;
A cup of coffee, or passing friend,
I am wracked in grief that I know not how
To tell her I am in love.
She is as beautiful to me
As words can convey,
And yet I cannot bring myself to speak,
Lest my love be spurned and a veil be ever drawn
Between me and my matchless joy.

The day before you left

I didn't spend a moment yesterday indulging
In the haven we set against the gathering gloom.
Not for a single one of your flowers did I stop and take
Glory in it's heady scent, nor spend a solitary moment
Before that crazy painting you bought from an unknown
A lifetime and more ago.
You fell for it's simple charm and I loved you
For such a wonderful, and gentle appreciation.
Our song played on the lunchtime hour, I meant
To call you through so we could smile and
Remember just how it became ours, but
Something held me back.
Perhaps it was weariness, perhaps complacency,
And maybe it was these twins that for too long
Have kept me silent on the matter of my
Adoration of you.
Now though we stand upon the further shore,
Yesterday evening a fact, and not a looming
Cloud on our horizon.
Now it is too late for me
To smell your flowers, and our song is dischordant.
My eyes and ears are full of all the places
You are not, and yet should be.
A cruel epiphany, but well earned.

The Trap

Trapped, he cannot escape memories caught
In endless loop. The relentless drumming of
Shame, regret and agony pounding a beat
In the otherwise still and frozen night
Accompany his memorial dirge.
A baleful tribute to everything that
Has ripped him apart and left him
Ragged, defenceless and bereft of hope.
His clenched fist taps along in rhythm to
This torture, hammering on his temple,
As if pleading for rage to be let inside
To decimate and desecrate his broken mind.
He long since lost the sense of pain from nails
Dug into his palms, fists now combing hair
He would rip from his scalp if only he could
Unclench. What began as tears has become
A torrent, glottal fire at the back of his throat
As he fights for every breath, taking in the raw
Untrustworthy air.
So often he has been here, the past played
On loop, constant variations on a theme,
All roads leading to ruin.
As he rocks and feels himself subside,
Shattered, he is taken by the fear that
This time he may not make it back.

Descent

In the heat of our dance we are aflame,
Blazing trail crackling as we descend,
Two voices sing of one insanity.
You refute the man I am,
Tethered by the memory of yesterday‘s rage.
For my part, I cannot contain your passion,
Which sends me reeling against the wall,
Lustful for the exquisite pain you deliver.
We boil with hate and love, despair and desire.
And can never give enough, one to the other.
I want to wear all of you, but you just don’t fit,
You want to make me new,
But my rot is set too deep.
We burn in the heat of our dance,
Smouldering in the night.
I can no more quench this inferno than rip
Out my racing heart and feed your ravenous hunger.
I bear your brand and bear the pain for
I am nothing without you, and you are
Everywhere without me, exposed and alone.
We are each other’s last hope,
We are the coming storm.