Tag Archives: northern needle

Dear o’Death

Dear o’Death, that’s what you’re called
when calls of punchy self-pity ring at three when
you’re alive but fears of close calls of
Theft erase all the flowing blood
you have left.

Dear o’Death, who escaped its clutches
twice. How could I forget
when that’s all you talk about
‘Back in the days’ of when
you’d still know the meaning
of a dazzling life.

I can’t criticise you.
– You escaped Death twice.
I can’t complain,
– you escaped Death twice.
I can’t ask for help –
– you escaped death twice.

You left for a year unannounced and that’s alright.
– death took you thrice.

All that escaping had you forget how to be alive.
You’ve let me behind on a deluded dream-chase
when death had actually killed you three-times already in your life.

What’s it like to be alive,
taking others’ humanity to keep your
lack-of-one thriving?

o’Death Dear, there’s nothing
left for your namesake to take.


Shadow of an idea that stayed too long,

Shadow of an idea that stayed too long,
that was unwelcomed, unnannounced.
You’re just the shadow of a hope
that dreamt against my will,
that bumped into my mind
stolen every sullen corner.

Sweet. Beguiled.
If you’re a sweet then I’m your queen.
But as I’m not, and as you were,
This day too long, my passion

These words are slow.
The best about slow songs is dancing so close,
But this isn’t a song,
It’s not even the start.

It’s a reclaim on a stolen space.
And this someone, new hope,
I hope he fills it well.
I hope he stays.
You’re someone I didn’t’ know.
A condemned man only by your chosen fate.

Whose shadows remain despite the noon-high sun
which fills the world with spring-white-taste.
With haste I’d wish you’d leave.
Whose shadows shouldn’t exist.

The Tale of the Girl with No Name: Part Two

Far away, not so long ago,
Lived a Girl with No Name,
who went her entire life thinking she knew
when to turn her head, ears open wide.

Two sun circulations ago she met a boy with
a Lovely Name, the most lovely of names that could
grace her uneven lips. He taught her that
what she knew was no longer true:
She had no Name, She never Did. She never Would.
The closest thing she’d be was a useless ‘you’.

A You she Was – that must be the truth.

What she felt versus what was true meant
that her heart grew apart.
Wandering far from the Boy with the Lovely name,
a man she met with an Ugly Name.

And all in one night, she was given
her old-name-that-never-was.

But when she heard the old familiar ring
echo from the even mouth, she no longer recognised
the sounds. She didn’t know what they meant.
When she heard her Name, She didn’t like it one

She declined the new man,
Though his intentions were true.

She ran back to the one who erased
the name, and would only know the arms
of all the later men who would.

A You she Was – that was the truth.

That’s where her worth was.

The Tale of the Girl with No Name

‘I am the girl with no name,’ she cried out with a cheer.
Parades stood transfixed, ears willing to hear.
‘I am the girl with no name at all,’
She decreed with a bow and accompanying song.

All her life she
thought she knew what she was called.
A name like a flower which grew since before her,
twisted and twined around the body so small.
Talled as she talled, grew wide when her hips did too.

The name she thought,
still grew and breathed, always above her,
always sighted out-of-reach.
Watered and loved, no blemish to name,
soon preceded the distance which the girl

But then she met a boy with a beautiful name,
that tasted so pure, that tasted so good as her
lips grew the word stronger and lovelier each day –

And for a year more, he never used the girl’s name.
It all was a lie, the word she thought she knew.
There had never been a name, she was just only a ‘you’.

She accepted the bend of her flawed know-all,
perhaps, after all, she remembered,
it were weeds that grew too.

She accepted his knowledge as superior to her
own – for he told her things only a lovely named-boy
could know.

‘I am the girl with no name.’
They cheered and they twirled.
‘I had no name at all,
not one, three, or two.’