Pockets of Love

(a middle-aged journey into night)

One word

Can mean so much

Or so little

Warm, giving,

Harsh, brittle.

A hot palm

Hand killing cold

Chilled intention hitting home

For some it’s a celebration of invitation

Invitation into self

But if you don’t like who you are

You’re inviting

Doubt, indecision

Crippling your decision

Leaving you open to derision

From shadowed forms

You feel sure

Hope for your failure.

I saw your beauty

Silhouetted first green, red then blue

Disco beat was fanfare

For your raven-black hair

And the power of your stare

Led me straight to you.

I want to offer you my welcome

Without breaking my protection

My barrier from your

Almost inevitable rejection.

‘If I don’t try I’ll never know’

This old adage brings me pain

I take my life in my hands

And here I go again.

Palms sweat

Eyes bleed

As I approach

I step from the neon

Into your multi-coloured darkness

Music is a minefield

Exploding in my head.

Snare drum times my step

But my heart beats a rhythm a million different drummers couldn’t capture,

I stop

Caught in a rupture of time

Fractured by the fear of my approach.

I realise it’s my last chance

To escape

Into the arms and legs of a

Thudding amyl nitrate-scented dance floor

But that’s not what I came for…

I want your sex so badly

It gives me strength to carry on

And like Garland in ‘A Star Is Born’

If I fail

I’ll mourn you bravely

With a lament or a song,

But maybe I could be wrong

Fate might wear a new face

A smiling mask

Blessing my decision

Condoning my direction

That the chase has been worthwhile

And I won’t be struck

By blue moon diva blues.

If I’m in luck

We might just fuck

So straighten up

Right on in

It’s time to make the news.

That one word about to tumble from my lips

“Hello. Is it me you’re looking for?”

“NO!”

Well I was easy to find

No hide and seek

Or childish role-play here.

I was there for you

You stupid bastard

Whoever you were,

I was there.

I guess I’m not cut out to be

The paper doll you need.

Palms still clenched

Eyes concede tears

As seeing you walk away

Makes me stamp my feet and swear

Fuck!

Much to the quiet amusement

Of the crowd around me.

I alter my face

Smile without meaning

Move back to my drink

To disguise the feeling

Of failure.

I know I’m not the sensitive lover

Displayed on stage and screen,

No soft-focused, silk-skinned self-confessing

Homoerotic magazine-featured drama queen.

I’m a little fat

A touch round shouldered

Not a public school boy

Or a Venus in blue jeans.

I’m real

Like the moon

Or the content of my briefs.

Sexual huh?

But not to you

You don’t want anything less than perfection

It’s Cupid’s bow and a dimple

You want caressing your erection

Held aloft by a body of Olympian proportions

These force-fed distortions sicken me

And ruin the chance of any real communication

Between two people.

Madonna chants empty expressions of love

As I leave the club

Defeated

By myself, not by you

Because just for tonight

Just tonight

I wanted perfection too.

The warm air of this summers evening

Is ice to my skin

Humiliation turns to torment

As I begin

The same route home,

Same men fight

Same women scream

Same police harass

The same people they’ve always been.

This circle of events is my weekend

I can’t pretend anything less

Unless I try really hard.

HOME!

Home provides coffee and a couch

A safe haven for my wandering mind

A little bit of heaven

For the dangerous insecurities

Haunting my head

And taunt outside

As I ask

“Who will sooth the bruises

of this already battered pride?”

Melodrama hits humour

I laugh to break the fall

Before the depths of this self-induced depression

Covers me

Leading me blanket-shrouded

Into despair.

I refuse to listen to those tortured divas

Who can’t know my reality

And are far too dead to care.

My thoughts turn to you, lover

The shadowed gladiator

In the gay arena

I could turn you into Samson

I could be Delilah

Davina to your Goliath

Or Nero to your liar,

As I make do with a fiddle

While you scorch and sizzle

I’m a burning ember

To your raging fire

You red hot teaser,

But it’s thumbs down for me

In this arena, Caesar.

Nobody’s perfect

But I bet you wish they were

Nobody’s perfect

That’s why we get called queer,

Come rain or shine

Shower or storm

I’m aware of that

Proud.

When I’m cold

I often wear it like a coat

And it sometimes weighs me down

Almost to my knees

Forced to the ground

By my pockets of love.

Love to share in many forms

Wham bam thank you ma’am

Is a fine rap for me lover

Or a long romance

If you fit the bill lover

But whatever the weather

I’ll weather the weather

Whether I like it or not

For I will never be your lover,

Lover.

Your pockets seemed empty

Room only for valuable coinage

Currency to perfection,

You’re still out there

Cruising for a bruising

Hovering, manoeuvring

Stalking like a lion round a Christian

Until after much inspection

You’ll home in on the boy

With the tightest arse

Widest smile,

After a while

Offer drink

Ambrosia your martyr

Nectar your saint

With a loving cup of deception.

You’ll be so good at the tales you weave

A craftsman of care, compliment and intrigue.

The boy will believe he’s the only one

As you smile content at a job well done

The night has only just begun

For you and your endeavour,

Like a secret agent under cover

Cascading nonsense

The handsome fool

Pouring words like blood from a wound

You’ll spew forth your offer

Showering lies

Like the best of spies

On your one-night lover.

I think I’m jealous

Why should I be

Because I don’t feature in your magazines

I’m Mr Normal

No imagery

Stepping invisibly

From scene to scene.

I can’t use beauty as bait

I haven’t the face

To kiss a thousand lips

My body isn’t my battle cry

A built up worked on fantasy

Of bulging pecks

Slender hips

But you could have tried lover

To be bigger than that glossy deceit

But this has come too late

You’re content with your conceit

Narcissus and his playmate.

And me?

I’m not even runner-up

In the good looks stakes.