This Poisonous Time

The plan never changed
it was never revealed
suddenly, this cell was just mine
can I still grow?
can I still change?
I don’t want to be my father
I don’t want to live alone

Another evening in
another night, pushing everyone away
All I need is a little space
room enough to think a while
write some lines
a drink or two
me; all too myself

But the more I take
the more I die
of this…
this poisonous time

And now, even on the odd occasion
I go out and sit with other people
there is nothing I can say
to make them want me to stay
I’ve focused every sense within
this cell is me

There should be jokes, there should be smiles here…
I used to be so good at this
There should be humour, there should be such love…
I used to be so good at this

But the more I take
the more I die
of this…
this poisonous time

Alone, I’m wading through
such a poisonous time…

[2008]

Thanks for reading.

Listen to my poems on Soundcloud: https://soundcloud.com/tomalexwrite
Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/tomalexwrite
Follow me on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/tomalex.write
Buy my book: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B084DGKFSH/ref=cm_sw_em_r_mt_dp_U_cgKxEbH5PS6C9

No Secret Place

There’s no such thing as a secret spot
in this college town
where strangers are just friends of friends
news travels faster than light
and in the dark
they’re bound to see as we embrace
before we could kiss
word would have blossomed
across town

These people live for gossip
these people live for scandal
I don’t want to service them
and their rotten needs
(by giving in to my own…)

There’s no such thing as privacy
in the glare of these glass eyes
tacked onto busses, buildings, banks
casually observing every action
if you and I did dare to speak
we’d be captured, saved and dated
before we’d even finished
in this mistrusting town

These people live for drama
these people bay for criminals
I don’t want to fold to them
and their rotten needs
(by succumbing to my own…)

We cannot touch in this post-code
we cannot push the slightest limit
there is no shade
there is no dark corner
we can dwell in
there is no blind spot
there are no closed eyes
in this paranoid town

Perhaps you could meet me
on a sea-front somewhere wet
and in the torrential rain
this country’s eyes will be blinking
so furiously, that they don’t see
the true, free love
that flows in us
and we may finally give in
and we may finally succumb
to our rotten needs

And I can’t wait…

[2008]

Thanks for reading.

Listen to my poems on Soundcloud: https://soundcloud.com/tomalexwrite
Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/tomalexwrite
Follow me on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/tomalex.write
Buy my book: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B084DGKFSH/ref=cm_sw_em_r_mt_dp_U_cgKxEbH5PS6C9

Letters To Old Lovers

Why should anyone still care
why should anyone raise an eyelid
the news is old
Perhaps, eight years ago
you may have gotten
some reaction
to justify the price of ink

Still you persist in writing them
letters to old lovers
letters they may lazily reply to
letters they may not reply to
the news is old

There’s no reason now
there’s no alliance
Perhaps to reminisce
for a short while
on a long cold afternoon
but nothing more
in these new lives

Still you persist
in writing them
letters to old lovers
letters that strain not to say
letters that overtly long to say
‘let’s try again’

And every time the letterbox snaps
its steel chops around your words
old lovers don’t bat an eye
old lovers just drive to work
(and teach)

And perhaps some time
they might recline
maybe a word or two then
they may spare for you
‘take care’, ‘go somewhere’
the news is cold

And still you insist
on replying to them
letters to old lovers
letters that don’t know when they’re beat
letters that don’t know when it’s time to stop

You don’t know when
the news is old…

[2007]

Thanks for reading.

Listen to my poems on Soundcloud: https://soundcloud.com/tomalexwrite
Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/tomalexwrite
Follow me on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/tomalex.write
Buy my book: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B084DGKFSH/ref=cm_sw_em_r_mt_dp_U_cgKxEbH5PS6C9

Let Down Your Guard

Do not be afraid of the flames
they are the best thing I have ever known
Do not try to apply your logic
for it holds no currency here
You’re welcome to try and hide your joy
but there is no point in fighting this
it will take you – if it wants to

Do not be afraid of the flames
take the chance we all must take
please risk the ‘getting burnt’
for there is no better way
there is no better purpose in this life
Lay yourself down, open your arms
hold out your heart, to give

Do not be afraid of the flames
there is nothing to fear
The love cannot flow
unless you let go
Take a chance
the chance you take
I promise you I’ll honour
Do not be afraid of the flames
I will not let you burn
I swear…

[2008]

Thanks for reading.

Listen to my poems on Soundcloud: https://soundcloud.com/tomalexwrite
Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/tomalexwrite
Follow me on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/tomalex.write
Buy my book: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B084DGKFSH/ref=cm_sw_em_r_mt_dp_U_cgKxEbH5PS6C9

Ashes Blow Over All Things

For every happy thought
for every smiling friend
for everyone who thanked me
I let the ashes blow

For every hand I lent
for every promise made
for every declaration of love
I let the ashes blow

For every moment of understanding
every instant of communion
and every apparent good deed
I let the ashes blow

Somewhere, there is a garden
overgrown and wild with weeds
one brown bench book-ends it
and there I spend my days
as I turn myself inside out
in the incessant search for meaning

But every shard of hope I find
any glimmer of talent or humour
quickly disappears from view
as I let the ashes blow

So much love I’ve had and been given
so much trust pinned upon me
so much that just gets buried
as I let the ashes blow

Somewhere, there is an attic room
shadowy sanctuary of scribbles
with scalpel nib I carve apart
the body of a life ‘just lived’
dissecting its every organ
in the wild-eyed search for meaning

My burning words of questioning
they scorch all things
and I let the ashes blow
my burning words, unstoppable
they scorch all things
and I just let the ashes blow…

[2011]

Thanks for reading.

Listen to my poems on Soundcloud: https://soundcloud.com/tomalexwrite
Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/tomalexwrite
Follow me on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/tomalex.write
Buy my book: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B084DGKFSH/ref=cm_sw_em_r_mt_dp_U_cgKxEbH5PS6C9

(Photo credit: http://www.marybethheffernan.com/skills/ashes)

Ellipsis [with audio]

I don’t write them like I used to
they’re not carved out of my bone
the way they used to be

I don’t bleed over the carpet
in some mouldy rented bathroom
like I used to

They’d say it was the angst that drove me
some mild flair for painting what had pained me
but you have to make peace eventually
I don’t know what is driving this anymore

At the end of the final line there’s an ellipsis
at the end of all I said there’s an ellipsis
saying so much more than I

Now I don’t sweat it out in twisted sheets
with cramped heart and cracked beliefs
surrendering my barbed emotions like a flag
the way I used to

I don’t tap that vein of pure unfocused bile
don’t let it gush across the front row of my imagined audience
they don’t say much about my unbridled verse these days
like they used to

At the end of every poem there’s an ellipsis
at the end of all I said there’s an ellipsis
dragging on and on

It speaks louder than I ever could…

[2014]

Thanks for reading.

Listen to my poems on Soundcloud: https://soundcloud.com/tomalexwrite
Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/tomalexwrite
Follow me on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/tomalex.write
Buy my book: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B084DGKFSH/ref=cm_sw_em_r_mt_dp_U_cgKxEbH5PS6C9

Tiger Mountain

I have fallen for the mad ones
and the sad ones
and the ones who don’t know what they want

I have found that mania so consuming
confused depression for deep thinking
I’ve tried to heal the cracked ones
and piece the broken ones together…

O, I have tried
to climb that mountain
with broken ankles…

I have lived off the wild ones
brought calm to the angry ones
laid down with the tired ones and slept

I’ve ridden with the seesaw ones
always wondering where I stood
felt lost with the wilful ones
and cried beside the bitter ones

O, I have tried
to climb that mountain
with broken ankles…

I’ve walked across the weak ones
swum naked with the free ones
reached out for the timid ones
but found no hand waiting there

I have been ungrateful for the nicest ones
been bored by the honest ones
prayed for the fickle ones to change
knowing no love could bloom there

O, I have tried
to climb that mountain
with broken ankles…

And I have wondered loudly why
I never could reach the summit
with my broken ankles…

[2014]

Thanks for reading.

Listen to my poems on Soundcloud: https://soundcloud.com/tomalexwrite
Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/tomalexwrite
Follow me on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/tomalex.write
Buy my book: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B084DGKFSH/ref=cm_sw_em_r_mt_dp_U_cgKxEbH5PS6C9