Pull You In

I'd like to pull you in,

give you some action,

express my emotion,

inspire you with lyrics

till your heart sweats

and I can feel you pounding the beat,

and I can see your words leaking from each pore of your skin.

That kind of honesty needs no translation.

I don't mind you offending me as long as I can hear your truth.

 

I'd like to pull you in,

I've seen it happen before.

Words widen smiles of recognition and like blades cut tongues from cheeks,

canned laughter is kicked to the kerb,

sincerity sings discordant but that kind of ugly is beautiful

and if your ideas are too heavy I will invite you to put them down on this floor in front of us.

These shoulders are here to be cried on,

this pain is here to be broken.

 

I'd like to pull you in,

in through my window to the space where I live,

surround you with the things that comfort me,

although that might be selfish or somehow controlling,

I just want to share some light, wrap you up with a wish, a blanket of warmth,

and you might think I do not know you

I know I do not know myself,

sometimes my ideas are too fluffy, get caught in my throat,

sometimes too sharp, bleed out of my eyes.

I'd like to reach out to you,

pull you in.

 

Different Platforms

A familiar rhythm beats,

I'm searching for my tact.

In the pause between I see you

just over the tracks.

I remember what connects us,

that means I'm looking back.

I will stay in this moment,

I will be in this moment,

I will breathe in this moment.

I get a glimpse of what's true,

a pause, hesitation,

I keep on trying to reach you,

a gap, communication.

I'm seeing what we lack,

I keep on looking back,

I strive for clearer facts.

When the path's clear it motivates me,

the screeching stops, I feel free,

doors open strip lights greet me,

the platform's open empty.

If I just run in I'll catch it.

Life is short but you can't snatch it,

 

Skip a beat,

lost riff,

Check pulse,

Skip a beat,

lost riff,

Check pulse,

 I'm searching for a meaning so I relate to this:

 It seems like life's a conversation on a train I always miss.

 

Implicit

With you I reached out further

or I kept my distance

I held too tightly

or I let go too easily

my company was disconnected

or claustrophobic

I was too fragile, ready to crack

I was too heavy, hidden behind barriers

I was too much

I was not enough

I'd like to sit with you again

in comfortable silence

or easy conversation.

 

Cupboard Love

She called it cupboard love,

in 1983, you and me,

black and white TV,

sarsaparilla tablets,

snooker's hard to see

but I didn't mind,

thankful for your company.

 

I called you from the phone box,

ran fast up my street,

you pretended you were passing,

I felt safe in this deceit,

I heard the squeak from your pushbike

in my forced childhood hide and seek

I could count on you to find me,

although I found it hard to speak.

 

You were the water blessed for the mass,

fluorescent sand in my egg timers' glass,

you were the pause pressed in moments of horror,

the safe moment of sunrise,

you were Scouts' honour.

 

She called it cupboard love,

she couldn't understand,

relationships of trust,

didn't want to hold your hand,

didn't want to touch,

I knew you weren't like them.

 

You were the hope I held near my throat,

the fake fur lining on my second hand coat,

you were the gate at the top of my stairs,

the spring in my step,

You cared.

 

She called it cupboard love

she kicked the cupboard in,

She called it cupboard love

but she held me down for him,

She called it cupboard love

she lived inside a shoe.

Only two children but she didn't know what to do.

 

 

Smoking

Each night an apparition,

she spirals grey, sighs mellow haze,

such comfort in repetition,

she cloaks his intellectual ways.

 

She spirals grey, sighs mellow haze,

she whispers through his door,

his eyes are drunk, he sings her praise,

until his throat burns raw.

 

She whispers through his door,

she clouds his core, infects his sight,

until his throat burns raw,

he'll just light up once more tonight.

 

she clouds his core, infects his sight,

a last grey web, his silent right,

he'll just light up once more tonight,

give his lady fuel for one last flight.

 

A last grey web, his silent right,

such comfort in repetition,

give his lady fuel for one last flight,

each night an apparition.

 

Mind The Gap

Past closing,

it seemed like your time to cross my line,

you stopped posing and began truth daring,

you knew I would never stop caring,

you pressed my buttons,

saw red, carried on through

like you could convince me I need someone like you,

you took a risk, took a mile, took the piss,

truth be told I like bold statements and firm gestures

but I wouldn't have guessed this, back at the bar

didn't think it would come this far,

my pain's bigger than your scar.

Look how lonely we are

and both reaching for understanding

but this time too much

and both needing a soul to hold

but this time no touch,

it's a wasteland,

broken barriers, rust, disregarded heaviness,

it's a homeland,

security, trust, disjointed carriages.

You told me an anecdote about twenty screaming pigs

waiting to be slaughtered,

I told you to mind the gap.

 

The Visitor

I turn up my volume

I hide all my baggage

 I check out my demons and

call on them for kicks,

We philosophise brightly

We drink till the morning

 We beat box and improvise musical licks.

He punches poetics

He preaches and listens

 He shows me in photographs

all that he sees,

I count all my blessings

I spell out my love

I think I get quieter

Each time he leaves.

 

Dirty Knees

Even her knees

aimed to please

never cussed

wept for approval

longed for scrubbing

dirt removal

 

Her mother said

it's ingrained

spat on handkerchief

dirt remained

 

Scratched knee, thigh,

mouth, eye

even her knees

aimed to please

bowed down

no frown

lay down

dirty, dirty

plead.

 

Then one day

without a fuss

she realised

needs must.

  

The Sunday Drive

You're the mid-winter whisky in the back of my throat,

you're the 20mph stomach flip at the foot of the hill,

I'm the shrouded in bottle green fleece, silent attentive.

You never told me we were coming to Rhyll.

 

I'm the wide-eyed disappearing feline,

I'm the foil-teasing shallow breathing, thinking about my waistline,

you're the mood-shifter, weightlifter, master of the wheel,

you're the bait-dodging, pond-lodging electric eel.

 

You're the perfect round space that makes this unique,

you're the satisfied palette for primary colour.

I'm the foible that fidgets in fabric-filled corners

I'm the bearer of mystery that's minty and hollow.

 

The Sanctuary

Here is my cradle

the lullaby night,

electric red, bedtime blush,

lime green melody.

 

Here is my haven,

my pulse, my rhythm,

calming powder on my skin,

texture like a kiss.

 

here is my sanctuary,

no more black howl,

my night view,

my altered scale.

 

A porch beams like a new idea,

each flat finds its pitch,

then a close harmony,

this is the song that carries me home.