It’s Only Temporal

I cannot tell what time my life clock
Chimes, and how to wrest the hour hand
From its history of defeat. I look out
From the rear of a rented house, in the pendular round
Of my mortality, in a departure from the path
That’s anything but direct. Letters I write
Are a circuit of misspent mail, sent as an endless
Readdress. I set a written tempo
As I listen for the tide, as the keystroke of its ebb.
There is a rise and fall of song the ghosts around me
Snatch at, and resume. It retreats on a shoreline
Breeze, and carries to the grave the cadence
Of my only clock. Shall there be renewal?
Or recovery of my rhymes, in a metrics
Not calling on another’s fading out?
The softened language I have used
As furnishings is drawn from a catalogue
Of chattels, last worldly goods of a widower living
In a painted clapboard house, and now deceased.
Objects, followed by their nominalising words,
Then words we treat objectively,
Are what I make my meanings from.
Acquired, in the particular order
Of my whims—

A battered cardboard chequerboard,
Its greyed and frayed and yellowed squares,
In semblance regimented,
Bound to rules no more than a repertoire of cliché,
Its founding an ideology, its demagogues
Megaphonic with its ground plan –
Or so the politics of the diminished.

The chair I got at auction
Has an upholstery of fake leopard skin,
And is angled at the window,
My frame on a world of churches, dogs
And chickens, and the tinkle of wind chimes.
Rougher music is a country crossed with words,
A hubbub on a stave,
For how I squirm when solutions down
Negate the clues across.

I grope for facts and cannot see
Beyond a mass of clouds, and an unsealed road
In a zigzag into the clumps of indigo pine,
And up to the mountain’s ridge. I ask myself
What time, what era I have entered.


The Patient’s Diary


The Patient’s Diary

Student Marcus Fyer is at odds with both family and campus life, and is about to quit university and just take off. His father arranges a course of therapy sessions to see him through his crisis, though Marcus finds himself at odds with that arrangement too.

His therapist can get very little out of him, so suggests he keep a diary recording his reactions to his designated therapy group. This Marcus does, but what can his diary tell us about his state of mind?

The Patient’s Diary is published as an ebook, and is available at Amazon USA, at Amazon UK, and at Smashwords.