If only

If only

If only I’d had one moment
if only I’d had some time
if only you’d let me make some still small sense
of this imaginary rhyme

Sleep

Sleep

If I go down to the water I can see it,
momentarily –
It reveals itself in the ripples, as if it’s winking,
slyly, at me

They gave him a medal

They gave him a medal

They gave him a medal for his ideology
for the bile that laced every word
They gave him a medal for his own theology
and the poison that his vitriol stirred.

The way we live

The way we live

Fires are burning, lines are bracing
Nights in silence, hearts are racing
Tongues are wagging, shelves are clearing
help arrives, for the hard of hearing

I’m not here

I’m not here

I’m no longer here –
I’ve been in the papers, they use the word “tragedy”, a tragedy of sorts –
no longer able to breathe, that crash, others thrown clear –
a moment’s indecision, words that mean nothing, the prayers and the thoughts –