I am professional and
mercenary (they elide);
dispassionate, sceptical and callous,
a changeling chameleon man.

Always full of good intentions,
an honest kind of guy (don’t stress me),
doing good, as self-defined,
(but why take the hardest road?)

A limited, narrow, demon,
armed with magnetic power:
it’s effective over time,
but only at close range.

They were both beautiful, devoted,
with insecurities which meant
they were corruptible by me,
by caring, to deceive their hearts.

A generation apart, twenty four
and young at heart:
a tender Catholic virgin,
a fragile Muslim whore,

Tempting both, persuading,
promising intimacy and love,
intimate desire and pleasure,
siren voicing understanding,

Leading them from purity,
to actualise, realise, enjoy,
to live, and share humanity,
to prosper in security;

Abandoning God’s grace
for common, shared conditions,
no matter what the cost
for their eternal life;

I gave them all my days:
hope and breath and sweat,
all hollow, temporal, ephemeral;
and in the balance, incomplete….

So tell me straight (you laugh):
how did I serve them?
Transform desire to love and life;
or steal away their souls?

Or were they already damned
unknowing, waiting for
a catalyst, an agency,
to express their inner selves?

And is it at last more shocking:
to have feasted on their virtue;
to love two separate people;
or to resort to ethics now?

Drafts from Abroad (Part 2)

An asexual hooker,
Afraid to be touched,
Rampant at times,
Willing to open, maybe;
Struggles to cope,
Though stronger than I;
Familiar of despair,
Joy in their heart,
Uplifted by faith;
Untameable rebel
Who tells, doesn’t ask,
Gives most of all,
Keeps nothing to call
Their own; Lost leaf,
Blown on the wind
Of circumstance,
Who learned to fly
When confidence –
Shot away, betrayed –
Through shocks returned.

Relentlessly seeking
Purity, perfection;
Denying free will,
Choosing their fate,
Accepting constraints,
Whose consent is
Imperious victrix;
Submitting to no-one,
Submissive to all,
Eschewing judgment
Particularly, Critically
Dismissing at will;
Calling the tune,
No wants of their own,
Learning so fast,
Forgetting so much.
Your gentlest heart,
And toughest narrative;
At last, so soon,
A place, a journey, opening….

Drafts from Abroad (Part 1)

A fragile beauty –
Fierce eyes –
And paradox:
The candy’s edge.

Twenty four years,
So wise, so naive;
The first to reach out,
But last to engage.

Ideas flying,
A firestorm’s sparks;
Emotions surging,
A river in spate;

Head up, blessed with insight,
Heart’s strong, full of joy,
Belly of fear, a lifetime’s;
Tantrums, blazing darkly past;

Overwhelming immediacy,
Beauty’s intensity;
A stray cat, validated,
Dedicated, to be good;

Child of our times, only
Conceivable in an open world,
Submitting self to one true God,
Whose eternal word denies her;

Both girl and boy….
Obviously, pervasively,
Vitally, insignificantly,
Their gender matters least.