unspoken word

I didn’t say I was over you
London
But as the distance between you and i
Stretched across the ocean
My memory of you quickly faded and aged
My new lover
Berlin
Glimmered and blazed.

And I had loved you
For as long as I can remember
But then I also used to believe
In love at first sight
Soulmates, eternal love
The kind of love that never ends
Never challenged or questioned

But it’s far easier to make
Be all end all declarations
In your teens and twenties
As one ages
Love becomes a slightly different thing
When you see that lovers evolve and change
And not necessarily
Together

And It’s not like we broke
I just ran away
Boarded a plane and didn’t look back
Began another life
Without you in it

I had a new lover
You had so many
You didn’t notice my departure
I displaced you
But you left a small space for me
Just in case

I returned to you defensive
Fearful, anxious
But you
You made me look you in the eyes
Squarely
Dared me to say you meant nothing
And say it sincerely
And faced with you
Surrounding me
Confronting me
Everything changed
You charmed me out of my resistance

You were
That random indie boy on Oxford street
Who came up behind
Put his arm around me
Singing a rock ballad, making me sing along
You were that boy on the 38 bus
Reading my poetry over my shoulder
Shyly apologising for interrupting my flow
But he just had to say
He related to what I was writing

You were that fashion photographer in that bar in Shoreditch
Arms laden with wrist bands
From fashion week parties
Blasé’ about all those models
And fashionistas
But bizarrely taken with me
So much so his camera came out
And he couldn’t stop
Photographing me

You were so many wonderfully cheeky
London boys, everywhere
Flirting with me
Dancing with me
Buying me drinks
Playfully outraged that I’d choose Berlin over you
The one that said
Its boys like us that will bring you back

You were
All those fierce Shoreditch vixens
Striding down side streets in impressively high heels
Vintage coats and oil slick black leggings
A thousand and one skin tones
Eyes shielded by oversized sunglasses

You were  the warmth of the audience
At my first slam at Malet street
The delicious response of
Laugh after laugh
To stanza after stanza
You were all of that

And as much as I’d said
Proclaimed, protested
Declared I was over you
It was clear that you
Had once again won me over

And the new lover
May glitter
But  competing with history
Is a different thing altogether
London, when I saw you
You made me crave you
In entirely new ways
And this time
When I boarded that plane
I was already planning
My return to you….

Its childish to say
But I maintain
You started it
Well
I started at first
The first time
When we first
From the first
When I was
Fearless
Chaotic

I was a whirlwingd
Lashing around your
Carefully composed
Rationalism
You were/are much younger than me
But it was I who was less mature
With all my throwaway passion
And even the most sturdy foundations
Can shake
When forces are great enough

I remember the first night
When we first
Our first
Embrace
I flew into your arms
Neither of us could stand straight
We were drunk and giggling
When our mouths danced with each other
And we rolled along the wall
And broke apart smiling

And then there was
Next after next
Until I worried we were
Becoming something
So I withdrew
More than a little
And by the time
I was brave enough
To go back
You had closed our chapter
Fear can be contagious

There was a great break
Before the next next
I couldn’t say how we
Got back to it
But we did
And this thing we’d hidden away
Was growing
In spite of ourselves

Maybe I opened the box
I shouldn’t’ have
But I have this way of doing that
I have little resistance to temptation
“no” was always a word
I struggled to say

And somehow this reminds me
Of a non sequitor
I once uttered
“I’ll kiss almost anyone, its what follows that I’m more selective of”

It was sudden
I walked off
And found him
The friend I’d lost
Wandering off the dancefloor
He gestured for me to sit
Somehow I knew to be quiet
And as I turned  my head
I saw it
What he’d saw
What had made him
Sit down
And stay there

They…them..
This random pair
Who’d probably met
Very
Recently
Were lying on top of one another
On the bank of the Spree
Fucking
Not making out
Not “messing around”
Or simply feeling each other up
No… they were
Frenetically
Frantically
Fucking
Clothes partially pulled away in places
To grant better access

Meanwhile
I turned to my friend
Who passed me a cigarette
That we coolly shared
As we fell into the easy role
Writers often occupy
As voyeur/s
Internal typewriters already clicking away
To document
(like this poem maybe)

and what got me
what moved me most
in this moment
of amorousness
was the narrative
my all too eager imagination
began to invent
the artillery of questions
that multiplied

when had they started
how had they met
how long had they been
well…
at it
what drugs had they taken
(and where could I get some)
but before I could
finish my thoughts
the girls body trembled
the boys hips swivelled
her right leg stretched

and then
he fell in
the Spree
not at all gracefully
but then
then
what really
got me
is he pulled himself out
drenched to the waist
and without even remotely
dropping his pace
he pushed back
into position
and continued.

And strangely
No one else
Seemed to notice
Or so we thought
Until we pointed them out
To a Berliner friend
Who simply said
Oh.. them
They’ve been two hours there

…only
 in berlin
could two commit such carnal sin
publically
with not so much
as  a brow raised
(or slight twitch even

The first ciggarette
is the worst
   
    Werklich?

Jah, natürlich. 
Ich liebe rauchen aber
Wann Ich…
Ich denke …
Ich denke…
Für die erste… aleine
Ich mag nicht diese
Das ciggarrette.

Und dann kommen
Die zweitte
Die driette
Und dann
Dann
Ich vergesse
Das:
Ich mag nicht die erste

Und dann Ich vielle 
Und denn Ich denke
Nochmal
Zweimal
Driemal
 
    aber
der packet sagen:
   RAUCHEN KANN TÖDLICH SEIN!

    Was?
    Wie Bitte?
    Entshuldigung, Ich hatte nicht verstanden
    Enshuldigung, Mein Deutsch ist nicht so gute…

Ich rauche weil Ich bin
ein raucher
No more
No less

I met a guy the other day 
who  said
he had to be stoned
to quiet the thoughts in his head
I share his problem
I am always
thinking about everything

i’m not so keen
on that kind of smoking though
I prefer my substances to stimulate
(as if I need more stimulation)
I confessed my sleep tactic
was to get very drunk
a bottle of red wine
(at least)

I wish I could go to sleep
before two
I wish I could  remember
how to wake up at eight
I envy those who
can happily come home early
I’m mystified by those
who say they can’t handle late nights

I hate staying in with a passion
when I don’t have plans
all I can think about is
making some
staying in
simply makes me obsess over
why i’m not
out

and when
on one of those rare occasions
I do manage
to keep quiet
I seem to stay up most of the night
pondering
what it must be like to be
someone
who isn’t always
thinking about everything.

the next time i’m worried
about spreading myself too thin
i won’t even bother to listen
see i’m gonna do more than
sit back silently
maybe this time
i’ll react more violently

i no longer believe
in limitations
this creation
is a variation of the original

you see its simple
i want everything
i can do more than one thing
at any one time
be jack of all trades
and make them all mine

i can hold friendships
over miles of space and time
live on more than one coast
go out to unwind
relax in being active
and find satisfaction
in indulging in urbanism

i don’t belong
to any one scene
i can open myself to anything
because i want
everything
all of it
now

i want to write peomes
while making films
about painters who play
with political views
i want to drink wine
as if it was juice

see i’ve got this itch
i want to be rich
(but not famous)
intellectual
(but never tedious)
serious
(as well as humorous)

i want to be the race
that”s classed as other
the only child
with sisters and brothers
the lesbian that admits
to sleeping with men
the little girl thats never
in bed by tend

and i want to be there when
america appoints its first
mixed race lesbian president
and i don’t want to finish this poem
but i must so i will
i may never be satisfied
because i want so much more still…

he has that
dangerous smile in his eyes
that promises
a series
of sleepless nights
waking up and thinking of him
long after he’s left
again

and you said
lie back down again

lie
back down
again

vocal chords pulled taut
over-erotic thoughts
stretched tigher than canvas and
carefully transmitted through

concentrated manouevres

any brief feelings of
vulnerability
were replaced rapidly
by utterly intense waves of
pleasure

clothes had
no purpose in your hands
they were
discarded

easily

I was just
looking
not particularly at anyone
in specific
but somehow
my lazy gaze
drifted her way

before I realised
I had been openly
forwardly
directly… cruising her
her eyes met mine
recognizing
and then
she smiled

I looked away
looked back again
and still
she smiled
I changed my subtext
modifying cruise mode to
do I know you?

Her eyes laughed at me
and then I knew
I had definitely
never
met her before

I turned away quickly
I didn’t dare look back
whether she thought I blanked her
or could tell I was shy
I’ll never know

whether her smile
revealed
interest
or just friendliness
I’ll never know

all I know is
when our eyes met
engaged
locked into place
I folded into myself
origami like

or perhaps got lost
inside of myself
like the center of
one of those
nesting dolls
hiding under so many
shells

i like
the tingling cold steel
of your voice
razor sharp against my ears
it is
a brittle whisper

i am stillness
paralyzed

your voice has a soft metallic edge

it is

chillingly

promising…