it is the nights
that are most difficult
waiting
wanting
for the morning
that brings your voice
it is the nights
that are long
sleepless
restless​
hoping for a world
where 1+1=1
it is the nights
it is the nights
it is the nights
when darkness
grips my heart
renders me incapable
until the dawn
returns you to me
d. james
whispers
of things
I meant to
say
when long ago
I watched
the sun rise
now the moon
is full
and my heart
sinks
the demons
smoke cigarettes
behind the gate
waiting
in darkness
to be let out
(D. James)
nothing
no thing
no nothing
no
begin
at the middle
go back
to the end
then circle round
to finish
at the beginning
once you figure
it out
let me know
I’ll be waiting
(D James)
lost under a sea
of unfocused thoughts
mind-numbing wandering
through disconnected
days of fear and self-loathing
wondering
where it went wrong
where I went wrong
feeling out of place
out of time
out of my mind
like a character
in an unfinished
Beckett play
waiting for something
like life
to begin
unable to go on
with no choice
but to go on
immobile
immovable
immature
with all the courage
of a well-fed
old house cat
wanting to know
how it all ends
when I should be thinking
where to beginÂ
(D James)
flame under
black kettle
waiting for you
to come through
the door
the sound
of water
about to boil
your scent
permeates
the apartment
the water
whistles
everywhere
reminders
of you
this
is what I
came here for
(D. James)
another day closes
and my heart
is elsewhere
being neither
here nor there
stumbling
from sunset
to sunset
just waiting
to board
the next plane
to you
(D. James)
waiting
for the call
which never comes
the one
where she says
all is forgiven
I love you
she says
please come home
we can work it all out
she says
come to me
and I do
and we do
but the phone
doesn’t ring
and everything
reminds me
of her
cup of tea
a bed
laughter
dark hair
sunlight
dogs
tears
children
laundry
I think
what should I do
with all these thoughts
in my head
afraid to let go
that that
would be
the end
and I keep
wanting
another outcome
the one where
the phone rings
and she says …
(D. James)
I saw you standing
on the edge of a shadow
in the space where
sunlight and darkness meet
in the endless battle
of night and day
waiting
for something
in yourself
to appear
but the struggle
was too great
and you remain
undecided
(D. James)
disposable poetry 