Month: December 2011

Long Tousled Hair

Long Tousled Hair

Long Tousled Hair

In her hands,
her hair curls round in
unfinished thoughts.
Tousled troubles long since forgotten
hang one under another
like knots in a string.
And, of course, she still smiles,
an emotional measure deflecting concern,
make-believe recollections often shown to be fine.
Then, as night carries on,
we stand in a circle knowing full well
tracing the lines with a tip of the coffee cup,
enforcing this lie with each sip of the dark.

Yes, we all have our faults,
God knows, they’ve been counted,
but mine, like notches on embittered wood,
have scarred, become separate,
left alone at the place where I chose, once, to carve them,
not carried like hers,
in that long tousled hair.

Posted by jason in Poetry



she found the letter,
creased into quarters,
one over another,
the paper,
its lines dented deeply within
with a writing she knew wasn’t his.

How slowly she bent to pick up its edge,
delicately cupped within shaking hands,
she watched it,
her face kept perfectly still,
her heart,
how it hurt her insides.

She rested it by his afternoon tea,
waited for over three hours before
eventually she could wait no more
she took it and read it alone.

And what she read,
how it sliced!
Through her heart,
through her life
with the tale it gleefully told,
and now as she’d found it
in cruel recompense
did she cry,
and her life, too,

Posted by jason in Poetry
Back to Front

Back to Front

Back to Front

eyes closed
voices talking
past the window
could be anything
could be anywhere
it’s warm enough

perhaps the train
will never stop
and I will fade away,
just some clothes
on the seat
a wallet full of
old receipts

this is my calm
the morning dream
rushing onwards
back to front

Posted by jason in Poetry



the hum of it,
the ‘innocent,
kill you in an instant’ hum,
it’s a plaything,
a temptation,
an outstretched arm
a burn like no other
raw power within distance
it’s best to ignore
but there’s nothing you can do,
go run to your parents
if you know where they are,
do you know where they are
can you see anything,
but me?

Posted by jason in Poetry



The mist, a hanging web
on which a thousand breaths
will pull and tear and form.
In the field of dew
you’re there,
hushed, yet still
bewitched, the thrill of light

Tomorrow, I will come and
be with you.
Drink and eat whilst
the gentle roll and move
will lull, will keep me
with drowsy sleep
and sweet,
scented air.

Through windows washed
I dream.
My eyes and mind escape to where
you stream and live.

Posted by jason in Poetry


stopped in a quiet place
nature’s soon forgotten
there’s a reason I am here

perhaps it’s simply not to be
anywhere else…

her mind it works so slowly
and maybe in a month or unfriendly year
it might just come to me

come to be

Posted by jason in Poetry
Then He Walks Away

Then He Walks Away

Then He Walks Away

he stops to speak to me,
and were it not for the glass
between us,
we would understand

and I think he’s happy,
he could be hungry
or just a day away
from breaking down.

so I look for the hinges
but there are none,
we are stuck in our space
I try to explain but he can’t hear

~then he walks away~

Posted by jason in Poetry
Hard To Write Of Love

Hard To Write Of Love

Hard To Write Of Love

It’s hard to write of love,
Cumbersome to think of such uncertainty,
Yet so bloody glorious.

Denial in the face of understanding.

This path is no longer straight,
No longer the singular focus
Of my own attention.

If life is short,
Love’s shorter still,
I’ll wait awhile and bathe within.

And should she ever know,
And should she ever love me back,
Then watch out world.

Posted by jason in Poetry