Nothing So Constant

There is nothing so constant

as the moon and stars

down here on the concrete Earth

we’d tear down the sky

if we were equipped to redesign it

we destroy all that we create

even our own history

deleted scenes

memories edited to suit peace of mind

recalling only the favourable times

decorating them with pretty words

anything less than perfect is an eyesore

I dissect everything I ever knew

under the scrutiny of the constant moon.

 

For the Lost

For the ones who stagger drunk

down dim lit alleyways, 3 in the morning

past graffiti-stained walls

through piss scented subways

those who blow smoke rings at the moon.

 

Those blown from one disaster to the next

like yesterday’s news blown in the wind

for the ones rocking back and forth

cold sweat running down their spines

head in hands, worried for their sanity.

 

For those crouching in shop doorways

asking for spare change

from passing strangers

smoking cigarette ends off the concrete pavements

eating leftovers from supermarket bins.

 

For the addicted and the abused

for those scoring pills and powders

those in the aftermath of the fight

bruised grazed and believing the lies

circled by the redness of tear-stained eyes.

 

For those hanging around dingy flats and broken homes

with nowhere else to go

for the dealers, for the whores

for the things that brought you here

whether you were rich or poor.

 

For the losing, for the lost

for battles fought at the greatest cost

for the countless ways you’d wave goodbye

for the countless reasons a new-born cries

you’re still worth the fight to survive.

Cracked Paint

Cracks in the paintwork will show

no matter how many times you gloss over memories

the rough grain of turbulent thoughts

will never be smooth

you’ll feel the splinters penetrate your skin

your nerves raw, as your mind fragile

no matter how many times you redecorate the room

you’ll conclude that old woodchip wallpaper

will simply have to remain

stuck fast to the plaster beneath the new.

 

Your mistakes, regrets and resolutions

follow you

all your doing and undoing

will undo you

for better or worse

fractures in the sky will appear

sunlight will shine in

rain will soak you to the bone and

the cracks in the paintwork will grow

like vines of ivy on abandoned buildings.

 

Where nature reclaims her own

your character takes on new meaning

you survive, you thrive

through it all

some flakes of paint

may crumble and fall away

let them fall

it’s the cracks in the paintwork,

-that make you.