evil as
I’ve only met true evil
three times
& would prefer
not meet a fourth
otherwise
all I see is jealousy
misguided misdirected emotions
playing out of control
uncomfortably in public
to teach lessons to others
only the actor can discern
oh they may look the same
but these are not sadism
driven to action
the way evil does
doing sick things
because it can
or wants to
to see her in the street
talking to strangers
catching anybody’s eye
she can meet
thankfully not seeing me
finding mine
tho’ I see her clear
bedraggled lost forlorn
& I turn away
we have history
warmer times days
when I was broke
painting her house
she wanted more of me
& I gave in
being broke lost lonely
quickly finding out
I was in over my head
to run away being chased
threatened cajoled
& later a postcard
blank card black letters
your son still born
died this morning
the priest gave last rites
& to wonder now
was I part of the creation
of who she is now
or was I aware enough
to know this was how
things were going to be?
ooh sweetie trilled the hippy lady
life is just one lesson after another
you learn from the lesson & move on
you let it go
otherwise you become a prisoner
to yourself!
oh really I said all soft in the way
that gets my girl clutching my arm
never quite sure
what I might say next
have you ever been a prisoner?
I asked
as my girl sighed sat back
no! of course not!
mrs hippy getting all indignant as I smiled
well maybe it isn’t always possible
to just learn the lesson & let it all go
there may be always will be others invested
in not letting you let your lesson go?
we are talking about spirituality here
she continued getting nervous
have you er ever been a prisoner?
oh I’ve learned my lessons I countered
& I let all difficult lessons & labels go
haven’t you?
setting: 19th century canal bank somewhere just outside Wolverhampton
scene: psychedelics ingested we’d been apart for a while
this was our getting together party some drinks couple of acid tabs
& a walk in the countryside until we realised we were lost
but that came on much later & slow
first we talked & talked for hours about where we’d been
the things we’d done & then I looked into her eyes
falling falling in deeper coming to understand who she was
& seeing our future or the not of it knowing we’d only be together
a little while longer until she was gone
I’d become silent going inside already experiencing the sense of loss
tell me tell me she said we promised no secrets remember?
& maybe it was cowardice or just plain wanting to hold on a while longer
so I told her of my plans that I’d seen going back to school university
teaching training developing to what I had once been but had let go of
& none of that quite worked out as foretold
but she did leave me some six months later
final scene: & I was devastated by her loss
even though I’d known that was coming
as nothing ever can prepare you for the real event
these predispositions
inherited
from those who made me
black traits of darkness
from the old man
that I only truly escaped from
by recognising how like him I was
then differentiating what was truly mine
beginning the process after that learning
the runaway gene
from her I never knew
met just a few times in passing
knowing nothing of her or her kith & kin
but seeing in faded photographs likeness
these predispositions
I hope will wash out
lose their lustre over time
in those who will follow after me
become but dwindling characteristics
fainter memories of a broken line
of a time
& people gone before
the agency got me a delivery number
driving a white panel van taking medical kit
to ill sick people across the county
first I had to find the equipment in the warehouse
picking up bedpans lifts ramps hoists the docket said
load these into the van working from supposed 8 to 5
finding my route via paper plan & sat nav
to remote places I had no ideas as to where
I was always late finishing no time for coffee
one handed eating a sandwich other driving
running onto the next the next stop dropping off
you know I quit not that I couldn’t get the job done
finishing most of my days sometimes after seven
but because
the people I delivered to bald headed angels
glowing with spirituality the serenity of close death
fierce cold coursing deep in their fine blue veins
frail old men in never got out of rancid beds
waving to me quietly pleased to see a live body
someone new tending to their terminal needs
glittering eyes in white faces from their loved ones
me a fresh face to speak to in their grind of living hell
but because
I was not strong enough to take these blows
killing me too slow in their pain of always arriving late
leaving too soon to go on to another level of pain
people who will
take you
to the very edge
of your kindness
wearing thin
any generosity
while giving nothing
of themselves
& then
spit in your face
for
not giving
more
they got formulas
tones to hit
melodies to make
registers couplets
keys rhymes
to tear your eyes
lure your ears
pull you into relationship
emotions as targets
all learnt in English lit 101
to be thrown up
hurled on blank walls
& don’t get me started
on character crisis arcs
just please
make what you write
put down on the line
true to you
she tells me now
of the times
I wanted to end this
end myself
help create shame
diminish me in some way
because I felt
deep on my failures
those things I did then
that did not work out
but I picked myself up
started over again
swearing never to forget
so here we are
still kicking
trying pushing on
because I felt
& try as she might
she cannot shame
hurt me now
because I felt
& that
never earns any of that
I couldn’t:
do the dishes
load the washing machine
hoover the carpets
mop the floors
I could
leave the tub in a mess
drop my clothes on the floor
screw up a tidy kitchen
& on
the list gets tedious
& now
when she’s talking
to my new beau
about the stuff I do
around the house
all she can say is
he never did that for me
not a thought
for how that was
mebbe
the reasons why
