Half-Life

Driving back to my former marital home
I start to choke on tears
Of course, it will do only harm
It is no-ones fault, least of all his
But the emotion is overpowering

Don't take me back there
Please, please
Back to the empty shell of my marriage
Only the cat gives any welcome
In the bombed out remains of my former life

He looks at me from above
Hazel eyes shining with love and concern
But this can damage our love
The joy of your company
Destroyed by the thought of having to leave

I must take you back there
Don't cry, I love you,
Back to the man who now means nothing to you
Carry on the war of attrition
For your half of the home, and your work

But he does not fully understand
The memories seep through my skin,
Each Sunday I return in part to the old life
Betraying him, in a way
But unwilling, unwilling

Festival Poem

Walking by the trickling Wey
I only wish that you were by my side
Dancing through the night
I only wish I were dancing with you
Singing to the crowd
I only wish that you were amongst them
Getting ready for sleep
I only wish that you were in my arms

Auntie Molly

Sometime in my late childhood
I am taken to see Auntie Molly
My father whispers before we go in,
Play yer cards right
And she may leave us
Something in her will

Auntie Molly is small
She has my father's tightly-curled hair
For she is his father's only sister.
Her face is all pink with hives
She has shingles, which she says
Is very painful, especially the headaches.

Auntie Molly is perceptive and wise
She notices that I am quiet
As if that were a bad thing
Auntie Molly is practical and kind
The photo of dead Uncle in his Army uniform
Hangs sadly above the rich mantlepiece

She tells me about a dream that she has had.
Little soldiers with swollen heads
Keep coming and coming
Not threatening, but just staying there.
She says, what does this mean?
She asks me to interpret!

I say, the soldiers are the germs
The ones that are giving you the headaches.
She says, am I going to die
I say, well, they are not threatening
She says, am I going to get better
I say, well, they're not going away

My father is displeased
Auntie Molly unsatisfied
But she gives me a little bracelet
Before we leave

She dies a month later
I don't know the cause
And she leaves my father
A thousand pounds in her will

Fat Slag Val

Fat slag Val
Flirts with my husband
And makes outrageous passes
But ‘It’s only the drink’
Or ‘She’s like that with everyone’

And she’s sorry
It will never ever happen again
Not until the next time

Flat slag Val
Has been caught holding hands
With my husband
But they’re not fucking, oh no
I ask him never to see her again

And he’s sorry
It will never ever happen again
Not until the next time

Fat Slag Val
Has stolen my husband
She can’t resist a gloat
Even her friends think she’s a shit
And they tell her so

So she’s sorry
It will never ever happen again
Not until the next time

Fat slag Val
Boasts of hundreds of friends
Myself and her husband think hundreds of shags
Perhaps she will be faithful to him
But strangely, these ‘friends’ keep turning up...

Surely
It will never ever happen again?
Oh no, not until the next time

(Based on The Smith’s ‘Hooligan’)

Old Gods

Funny how the Old Gods
Come even to a modern child
In times like these

Nemain the Moon Goddess
So calm and serene
Power in femininity

Bastet the Cat Goddess
Giving love and affection
Even to those society scorns

Reynardine the Old Fox
Warning always to be aware
Avoiding tricksters and their traps

The Raven God of First Nations Canada
Tempting us into the Real World
With all it's pain, suffering and joy