reading Nietszche

to be told for all us

god is dead

everything is now

but physics at play

nature in tooth & claw

holding sway

feeling the disappointment

when I wanted more

searching to understand

finding metaphor

the lover you loved more than day

you find has another lover

when you thought they were yours

that sense of bewilderment

knowing this to be true

but still wanting to hold onto

what you once knew to be so

mebbe like me nietszche

confused by the trappings of church

like I confused what she said

& what she actually did

as you do

Refreshment had been taken

of that we were sure

backwoods backyard France

stumble walking middle of the road

around four in the afternoon

leaning in creating an A

to help get themselves home

she being two thirds his height

completely in night black

boots jeans blouse waistcoat hair

he in skinny blue jeans silver shirt

brown cowboy boots pigeon toed

we drove around them recognising

that being the humane thing to do

wondering where they’d been

where were they headed to?

this being in the middle of nowhere

& five minutes later

we turned to each other asked

did we really see that?

as you do

They find ways

a mistimed note in conversation

jarring in the third ear

door closing to the third eye

& you know

deep down to your shoes

the first hint of the long goodbye


darker nights approaching

they find ways to let you know

before they find words

to articulate the letting go

to say this is so

throwing you out of bed

is too clumsy blunt

as is changing the locks

better if hints come slow

not the school of hard knocks

leaving space for a change of mind

if other better offers don’t come

for you to sense change of pace

a cooling between the sheets

helping you make you think

it is you who chose to go

As a musician

you don’t hear music the way

that I do

she said plain

if with a touch of malice

to add colour to explanation

tell me then I said

eyes open ears the same

what is it

that you bring to the party?

she began with words

something about subtlety

exploration affinity to rhythm

love of melodies deep joy

when the right notes hit the line

sounds like

good poetry to me

I said all subtle soft

oh no! she cried anybody

can wrote that poetry stuff

but only a true musician gets music

are we talking snobbery here?

I asked all polite

my turn for the malice pin

y’know she said face all stone

there are times

I know exactly why I hate you

that’s a great line I thought

but never said out loud

I’ll save that for another time

Horse 3

was his own man

living the life he wanted

could not understand

how us youngsters could settle

what he felt was so much less

while we saw him sat at his table

clutching his racing paper

eking out his drinks

sucking up the warmth of the bar

rather than sit in his tiny place

spending drinking betting money

on gas to keep warm

he’d not lived with a woman

for a very long time after

he’d lost his Paris whore

you little fuckers don’t get it

when love gets taken away

he’d quietly say

there is no point in chasing that

in another girl

that would be cruel to her & to you

we smiled of course

we knew no better then

worse some of us never would

& those of us that did

cursed his memory

for being so right

I knew she would pull through

She got quit

called me up

spoke with a voice full of sad

she quit me

said it was because I’m sick

did not want

to be my later life carer

like y’know?

I’m never going to get better

It’s a sad day

lost my long time lover

to her diagnosis

she ain’t qualified to give ever

she took a sigh

I’d been listening in silence

you still there?

yeah just about sorry about that

I might apply she went on

y’know for a grant or something

for what?

well y’know as a black lesbian

disabled long term sick

who has lost her lover

there must be a grant somewhere

so’s I can write

find a reason to live don’t you think?

It was about then

I knew she would pull through

Those early years

drinking fighting together

in the low bumping along life

sharing whatever we had

my girl became his girl & versa

& I defended him fierce

when that time came

helping each other out

thumb in the air one winter

to bring him food money booze

the kind of blues beyond sad

we drifted away for a while

until he came back to town

& we carried on like before

homecoming buddies from the war

time changes people they say

how to find the way to say

I found he’d become like other people

the kind who inch worm their way

try to be above one another

one night playing the slots

I made a useful win

he came along hand out

grinning brothers in sin

I gave him some money thinking

time came he’d do the same

forgetting he’d shed his earlier skin

& sure enough time later

he had his own luck come in

my turn for the hurtin’

I put out my hand

& he turned away