Phantom Photographer

A camera takes shots of me

Whether I like it or not

I tell it to stop

But it takes another shot

Its flash blinds me

Unable to think

So quickly I run the taps

To fill up the sink

The waters cold

As is my heart

My camera is scared

I hear it shaking apart

I throw the lens into the sink

And give the body a nice cool drink

The cameras dead

Resting at the bottom of the sink

Heavy as lead

Yet the flash still goes off

Taking another shot

A Real Dream

Your words come to me

Slowly, as if it were a dream

Their muffled sounds penetrate me

Until the meaning becomes clearer

I can make sense of the dream now

“You’re a waste.”

 

It’s a sound I’d like to forget

But it keeps rolling around in my head

I keep dreaming it

Your laughter starts to become clearer

I can see it’s just good sport to you

But I’m boiling from the inside

Boiling, slowly erupting

Was it a dream

Did you really?

 

My Lighthouse

I can see her now, alight in the city

A moving lighthouse, guiding me

Through a maze of unrelenting waves, hitting my boat

I’m barely keeping myself up

I could let myself sink, I could tip right over

I could let the sea take me to its abyss

But she’d never allow it

It’s her light that shines through the waves

composed of many faces

Until her light is all I can see

All I can think of

I let myself become warmed by it

I let it hug my skin

I could take it off for her

I could show her the fragile cage underneath

Breaking, crumbling at the beat of my heart

Beating to the rhythm of this love

I don’t mind, I want to show her it all

All of this ragged body, mind and spirit

She’ll bring it all to the light

No piece left untouched or gripped by shadow

The mischievous rock

There’s a rock in my room

That floats around my space

It can speak to me, telepathically

Floating in the midst of my dreams

It tells me I’m no good

Dropping itself, repeatedly, on my head

I wake up

Put it ouside, for bad behaviour

But it keeps smashing my window

 

“Not again” my parents say

But it wasn’t me

It was the rock!

See what you’ve done now

 

It keeps smashing against my head

Until I can’t think

I think he wants to get in there

I’ll grab a knife

I’ll split open my head

And let you in

Just don’t tell my parents, okay?

 

 

Looking through

A repeating dream convulsing

Through my limbs

Digging, unrooting my flesh

Planting itself, right in there

Clenching my motor cortex

 

It’s a dream

Where my tear ducts

Are torn out

Where I’m dancing in black rain

On a white platform

In the spotlight

With the sea as my audience

The rain swirls around my movements

The clouds are clapping

I can see her face up there

Looking right through me

I can’t stop dancing

Lack of Communication

Hovering on top of a parade

Of tiny black ants

They lead me to the sea

But not a step further

It’s a place they can’t grasp

So they fear it

Leaving whispers in the salty air

As they head home

 

I stare out to the sea

I try to make conversation with it’s waves

But they’re too fleeting

Rising and falling

Living and dying

I don’t want to occupy too

much of their short

Lives

 

So I shout out to the ocean

Timeless

But it has no mouth

So it can’t reply even if it wanted to

I guess some things on this planet

Aren’t meant to communicate

Is This Hell?

Flashing lights and frozen wheels

Burnt asphalt and melted rubber

Traffic lights stuck on red

No one can move, no one intends to

We all wait with bated breath

We all wait for something

That will never come

The crows are curious and

The rabbits are roused

We stand like statues

Made for this moment

Waiting for something

That will never come

 

Is this hell?