‘if ‘ for Raymond Chandler

‘if I had a gun to her back she couldn’t,
wouldn’t, stand by me.’

why?

love is a foreign dream for her…words, bought presents but not a ‘presence’ in a real, hurtful moment.

a hurtful moment? what is a hurtful moment?

when you find out that a loved, a loved one,

one who is now both unfaithful &

faithless

when they hurt you…without prayerful listening.
when there is no human touch
when she does not hear; listen; trust or believe

or he

hurt, not healing
death, not life
faithless
in their unfaithfulness

can you, just stop hurting me? that is my prayer

You can’t; so

hurt

families

Mark 3:31-35 Then Jesus’ mother and brothers came to see him. They stood outside and sent word for him to come out and talk with them. 32 There was a crowd sitting around Jesus, and someone said, “Your mother and your brothers are outside asking for you.”

Jesus replied, “Who is my mother? Who are my brothers?” Then he looked at those around him and said, “Look, these are my mother and brothers. Anyone who does God’s will is my brother and sister and mother.”

families
life, breathe, run, walk
die
with you

they don’t

give you up at nine years of age because your widow father wants to remarry
they don’t think of love as a ‘favour’
they don’t not see you
or not listen when you are not speaking

they don’t make your sky darker among millions of stars

they are light
are a soft wave
a kiss

a laugh that accepts

they don’t count your failings
but forgets
forgives things, even
a thing like
you

families faithfully
forget
but they never forget

you

sky

dark, light by soft, yet bright
light

glows on my eyes as I enter
my orange volkswagen in the bronx

this june night may be my last
as my appendix has brust and
poison gently fills by blood stream

pain has left
but I must move my car-traffic
agents will not stop their tickets
if I die; someone will pay
someone, but
not me

the doctor understood; she said: ‘you have five minutes-go’
she knew I wanted to see

sky
she knew

as, dr who

as
as bodies fall and
fail

love, true love, remains but
not as, as you may envision or
think
dr who tells the love he failed, he thanks her
as, as his thoughts change,
insights come,
screwdriver passes to
us
‘love, it’s not an emotion. Love is a promise and he will never hurt her. PE, catch!’
Catch, as PE

on the Northern line

on the Northern line

to older women in light, coloured jumpers,

to the older woman in the lightly covering jumper on just
your shoulders in July

your body is cooling, dying in London’s July heat as the ancient King David, he at least was given a beautiful virgin to keep him warm, he had an Abishag, a ‘very beautiful girl; she took care of the king and waited on him, but the king had no intimate relations with her.’

did you ever think that you would be so cold in July on the tube, without a lover’s hand, their eye, to caress and warm you?

the two young blondes women to your right and
your left have no jump-
-ers

they sit
-one in a white light sleeveless top, the other in a black tank top, both have their eyes fixed straight ahead
Focused on a

A future stop
it has not arrived, yet
they are waiting on flat black heels not seeing you, your bluish purple hands
your engagement ring on top of your large gold wedding band, your left hand on the side of your face

where is that man, that woman, that person who loved you?

a business trip?
a divorce?
Separation or a
death?

Alone, as your blonde companions,

Your eyes closed, then open, then closed again you see them

try not to go past
your stop

it will come soon