Lord is everything

a projection?

I have a half sister

who will not tell me

what happened

to my mothers body



disappeared into the ether

like when I was kid

the half sis

projecting on to me

that I don’t care

am maybe

only interested in money?

as if care

or money

ever came from there

a nod modicum

prime for picking

starved of affection

attention care

I fell for the first one

to give more than

a passing glance

I’d’ve latched on

to the ice queen

if given half chance

a nod modicum

flattery moment

of course you know

this translates

to the lazy giver

as brazen need

they get bored

I got canned

forced by foolishness

to repeat over


promises made

bits of paper found

when preparing to thin the herd

promises made to her

& her

of fidelity

undying love


oodles of moon in June

romantic guff

thrown there on the line

from the low depths of self pity

anguish of being thrown over

& now?

I have no idea

of where she is

or her

no trace of the love

I put down

no irony there

in the phrases of eternal care

no gifts flowers to find

motherless boy

no card to send

on mothers day

no gifts flowers to find

no funeral tears to make

best wishes condolences

to take appreciate

no final words to end

I am a motherless son

never having the love

I read in others cards

tiny notes on flowers

thanking for care

love support appreciation

unconditional regard

a life given held hugged

the bestest friend

not asking for pity or sorrow

save these for things we lose

have taken away

for such we miss

just to understand

when you make your

sweeping generalisations

about how mothers

make the world go round

some of us

must do this ourselves

not six

not six anymore

can’t tell aunt C to shut up

stop talking while she eats

not eight anymore

punching my men friends

to show that I care

has come to an end

not fourteen anymore

getting turned on

feeling the rush

from a glimpse of thigh

has gone

not twenty anymore

can’t do the sex thing

& then leave

those bad manners

got left at the earlier door

I’m not young anymore

the excuses the reasons


got changed along the way

with the expectation

of respect for others

even if that does not come back

we’re not children anymore


there were few times

the man offered me advice

on life love other things

we were so opposed

he couldn’t talk clear

& I could not hear

the first time

he was nervous

of friends I had

& the second

was about lovers

telling me to be careful

make sure I had the right one

while I stared hard at him

the first of his ran away

& the second

could not do care

look after him at all

care for him me be kind

& the day he died

gave away his clothes

bundled for the charity

poor choices made

tip toe

caught in her fly paper

she wanted me to go

& I did not yet

want to leave

intuition feeling in my bones

someone else was gonna show

as her eyebrows got higher

voice shifted from low

& sure enough

just as I turned the corner

in he came

it’s a sick feeling

to be right in these ways

churning the gut

head spinning to know

all of this for nothing

more poor choices made

care poured onto barren ground

reeked of news

lying in bed thinking

best thing in the world

thinking about now

& the then

I had four addresses one year

about average for the times

& mail was a rarity

every now & occasional

I’d get a letter from the old folk

telling me who’d died

who was living & where

& I knew better than

check the envelope for money

because there never was

any my way going spare

they had long given up on me

the watering & feeding

was long gone some

much as I’d given up hope

expecting love consideration

I was living in a different country

making my way to a new home

my own man my own trail

& the letters while holding no money

reeked of news of wanting my fail

for flying into the wind

close to that edge

that I never wanted to contemplate

been there before

& there is nothing here

can make me go back again

not that I care for me

about the looking over

seeing an end to all of this

but those left behind

can never understand

why those choices

feel close to the divine

though I know love is not there

when nothing much matters anymore

seems to be a struggle

clutching at the air

& if I give up now

on all of you

all of me

all I would be

is one more said

they cared

& let go

for flying into the wind