On Halloween


On Halloween

Murder dripped from my mind as a dark and unctuous treacle; it coated me in death.
And so it was I stole upon her unawares, my once love, my once life. She combed her long, raven hair with the brush I had bought her when first we met, a trinket to me, rather more to her. Here I watched from the shadows of an unlit hallway. Here my spite grew bestial.
I launched myself upon her with the vicious confidence only fear could manifest. Exactly ten years to the night, on Halloween, to be exact, I would end the turmoil of our love. My fingers closed about her throat, a sick adulation shining from my eyes.
She did not die. She would not die. The mirror as always stood empty and silent.
I’d married a witch, my fault, my lapse. I’d married a witch, and I sought to end it. As ever, she refused. She tossed me aside like a rag doll. I crumpled. She laughed.
“Maybe next year,” she sneered.
She could be sure I’d try.

Of Rats and Monkeys

I've just spent most of a nice long walk to the coffee shop this beautiful Sunday morning explaining my theory of why I believe my wife a monkey. As you can imagine, she was enthralled. From the Darwinian explanation of the opposable thumb, hers always getting caught in my trouser pocket when we hold hands, (this wouldn't happen if I held hands with a tiger or an elephant) to the Planet of the Apes noises she makes when sleeping. The similarities are remarkable and irrefutable. Unfortunately for me, evolution has trumped the male of the species (that's me) because she's got the coffee money. I'm beginning to wish my theory was wrong, but I've already written the scientific papers as proven by this. Looks like I'm going to be drinking from the drainage ditch again. I wonder if this makes me a rat?

Written in Unknown Words

Written in Unknown Words

There’s a letter on the table

Pressed like a brand new shirt

Sterile, it beckons

Voiceless, it calls across the hall

A siren of the mahogany

It screeches in its un-stamped way

And I feel myself reaching

And I feel myself moving

And I feel for the very last time

I already know what it says

But still don’t understand the words


Is this it
Is this life
Take a job
Take a wife
Wiping eyes
In starlight
Shun the sun
Love the night
Is this all
Is there more
Am I dead
On the floor
Give me hope
Give me love
Give me signs
From above
And I’ll do
All I can
All I have
Is this man
But it’s all
That I own
In my mind
Is my home
Where the skies
Burn in gold
And the snow’s
Never cold
And our dreams
Can come true
Is this me
Is this you
Yes, I hope
And I pray
In my eyes
You will stay
As you’re all
That I am
All that’s real
With this man
So I’m back
To the start
With my hopes
And my heart
Is this it
Is this life
Thanking God
You’re my wife

Unbreakable, She Dances

Adorned in scarves of rusting shackles, she twirls amidst the nightscape gloaming

It is her time, the quiet time, the time when others can’t see her dance

With fireflies and fairies, she jingles and clinks trapped in a marriage of the unappreciated

She is nothing, a nobody, a slave, he says from vile upturned lips

But, he hasn’t seen her dance nor twirl nor leap

Nor shall he

For she is unbreakable with a spirit stronger than the irons she bears

She is a creature of freedoms unparalleled and imaginations beyond his ken

She will out-think him, out dream him, outlive him

And she’ll smile at his threats and laugh at his disdain

She’ll bow with a smirk and cook as though feeding the maggots with parched earth and unctuous swamp

Sleep with one eye open, fists clenched and heart tight

But when those lying eyes close

Oh, when those lying eyes close

She’ll twirl once more in her unbreakable way right out of the door

As she has from the time her lips first said ‘I do’ when they meant ‘I won’t’

And she’ll dance in the shadow of the sleeping day and cry with tears of exultation and release