20130413 the things you say

20130413

I forgot about this, did I not.  In the passage of time, time past and passing, I forgot.  Well I would. What do you say? I would, wouldn't I?

I forgot.

I sat and looked at windows grown black with the want of a rub down.  At piles, dust accumulating as I watched. At corners untouched. Life, quiet. Moving only as needed. Now and then. Then and now.

I forgot.

In the whirr of inward activity, the outside was too much to manage, the effort to muster a rise, a step, too much, all too much.

Where is the hand that comes in and cares. I care. I care. Let me shift you and shake you.

Ha ha ha

I am grown known that there is just me, just me.  Say what you will, what you will. That is you. Just you and your crooked intentions.

I cannot bury this in half hopes and dreams. The dust in my landscape covers stuff. I covered myself in hopeless hope. Hopeless hope.  What a fool.  There is me, only me.

I forgot.

I forgot.

20121204 the things you say

20121204 the things you say

i have abandoned you. well, it was time to wasn’t it. what do you take me for? think i will sit here day after day and hope for the snippet, the hook for my worm? i cant do that, this life is too short. too tiny.

any rate, i forgot about my husband somewhere in the mix. forgot him entirely. would have denied him, looked right through him. doubt i would have recognised him. 

he came to see me. footsteps on the lino, footsteps on the flattened oh so smooth shiny concrete, buffed to look like oiled wood, like marble. he poked that head around my door and said my name, aloud. its the first time i’ve heard my name spoken in a while. it gets like that doesn’t it, when there is no one that knows you, or when those that do know you as another thing, another person, by a different sound.

i dont start or startle. no jumping or immediate shock reactions, nothing like that. i turn my head, slowly, like this, see to the right and peer over my shoulder. i stare. i feel quizzical, cross my brow, furrow me. i hold his gaze. not bad i think. not bad. something amiss perhaps. a hardness in the eyes, slightly too proud of feature, but for a man his age, not bad at all. do i know you i say, for you seem to know me, or my name at least. 

its me he says, unhelpful, wary. i think he is wary of me. ah, i say none the wiser, i didn’t recognise you at first, come here, pats the bed, settle your arse.

i’ll take the chair, so he says, gesturing, do you mind? not at all so i say, but return it, of course and i laugh. i laugh. what a sound  what a rusty old sound that has become. like a can rattling down the inside of a down pipe. echoey. clunky.

i hold the smile. feel its warmth.

i saw a robin red breast today, so i say. it stopped, hopped on the arm of a bench in the garden.  i stopped, so i say, to look upon it long and hard. it moved me. small round bird, red of breast. i moved closer to look and it skirruped away with a chirrup. i watched it move from near to far and could not shake my gaze. such beauty in it. such known and unknown beauty.

they are always about. you state it, its a fact. plain and simple. 

they are beautiful, i say, say i. beautiful. rare, plentiful, it matters not, they stir my heart.

ten a penny, so you say.

a memory stirs and the quashing of possibilities happens right there as i sit in my space. my space. the sinking of hope under the weight of what? misunderstanding? difference? lack of care?

are we friends, say i?

we were, so say you. we were.  

ah. i think it would be good to be friends, enemies, thats not good is it. it is pointless a waste of time of effort of energy what do you say?

you say, well, i am here aren’t i ? 

it’s a start, surely its a start.

20121226 the things you say part 20

20121226 the things you say part 20

This skedaddleing goes on. so it does. on and on.

We come together. Leave. A word. Leave. A gasp. Leave. Room for hope. Leave. Gone. Leave. A word. Leave. Another. Leave. In space out. In space out. Hook. Sinker. Hook. Sinker. Leave.

What is it? Your difference. It is there. I see it and I know it I know that it is there and it is real. Whatever. Whatever.  Have it. Fuck ya.

They clamber for a piece of you and the reasons are wrong their reasons are wrong and I am done with it. I know your cheeky smile as you sign yourself good bye at the end of a communication.  Authorised communication with a flourish. Something extra a bit more. A cheeky smile, euphemism, exclamation mark. An adage. I thank you but I'm off I shall skedaddle.

Have him, have him I say. I am done with it, bored with it, over it.

Let him be who he is do as he does. Clamber. Laugh too loud.  Hope for the treacle of attention as it pours down heavy, sticky.  Bored.  Done. Gone.  I take my leave. Bow out.

In my interior I watch as you speak so clever and articulate about the everyday, looking again, the malleability of the material. I watch you clearly talk it up, tell it loud, speak it true. Look at you, articulate, able, beautiful. Beauty of the unclaspable kind. Outside, inside, seeming real.  Seeming real.

Ah.

The truth. I sent you word, you sent me word, I sent it back and back and back. You backed away.  I lay my head. You sent me word, I batted back you hit me again I went for more you put your nose between your paws, the cancan played a mighty tune and you danced to it on and on and refused again to look my way.  I played the dice, I took the bet, I took the step, I extended my hand, through bars lined with glass I sliced skin and muscle in the stretching out of hand holding heart. Pump pump. You gazed towards your meadow, outside the window. I lapsed into silence. You spoke again, suddenly, out of the blue, thought of me and let me know it.

Damn dashed heart, split spliced and smarting skin with pumping blood and muscle in.

You whittled yourself away in the leaving. You chipped and chipped into possibility with silence and the big expanse of oak became a twig, a snippet, a fragment finally that I cannot recognise.

The facts remain. I am in here.  You are too. You are out of my reach. I love you. I love your knowing, articulation and distance, your expertise, intuition and vision. I love the space you create and inhabit and the lack of need you wear as a cape upon your shoulders. I love your knowing of me. I want more. It is not there to have. I draw a line a real solid line and watch me turn on my heel and walk away.

I will leave you for the others. You are not mine and i no longer want you.