I Want to Climb Inside your TV

Your TV glows.
Beautiful colours
A kaleidoscope of warmth and feeling.
I watch it closely
Too closely
Mesmerised by happenings on your screen.
Your TV beckons
Invites participation
Begs me to join a circle of linked hands
Yours and mine.
An inner circle
Alight with a vital, thoughtful radiance.
Behind a clear barrier
And I want to climb inside your TV.
I try and try
But I’m torn and bleeding
On the glass front of your screen.

untitled (‘I believed in a love’)

I believed in a love.
If it’s a love, then it can’t die, or it isn’t a love.
If it’s a love, then it’s going to exist forever.
So I believed it couldn’t die.
I believed it would exist forever,
Always be there to comfort me, convince me that the world’s
Not lost yet.

But it took a wrong path.
Not a blind alley. A valley
with sides it couldn’t scale. A trench
full of suffocating black oblivion.
A dungeon canyon stretching forever.

Its aimed screams were lost
then quelled
And it died a slow, ugly death.
It tore itself apart.

I watched too closely and the cold wind touched me.
I got too near and the fetid stink drenched me.

I couldn’t run,
I couldn’t leave it,
In my desperate hope that it might recover
I knew it couldn’t.

Now I know that, since it died,

It wasn’t a love.
It wasn’t! Though I’d believed so fervently
And my grief is for it and the world
Because it wasn’t a love, just a
temporary affection.
This grief is worse, a million times more tearing,
Than my grief for its death.