Fun with sharp objects

BleedingHeart

Fun with sharp objects on a Sunday.

Actually that’s a lie, I cut this a few days ago and then printed it and then forgot to upload it. Metaphors for my life abound.

This time I managed only 4 copies before I got a decent print which is vast improvement on my latest effort and no actual blood was spilled in the making of this image which again is a vast improvement on my latest effort.

Im sure there’s a poem about a bleeding heart brewing but my natural procrastinating tendencies prevent me from doing two pieces of artistic endeavour in one day. Maybe Winter 2016.

Less to follow.
Blood © D.Archer. March 2015

I’m not OK Cupid

Be Prepared!

Be Prepared!

I’m not OK Cupid.

Days like today make me realise that it is perfectly OK not to be OK. Celebrate our differences and accept our idiosyncrasies my arse. Nobody wants a relationship with someone who lists their quirks as “bestiality and defrauding the tax office on a massive scale”.

My personal profile reads, “I am short, fat, 46, shit with money and prone to bouts of depression”, a brief but accurate description of myself. Needless to say this has not endeared me to the masses nor brought me fame and adoration from all corners of the globe.

I have tried, (insert preferred deity) I have tried but the fact of the matter remains the same, my life is exasperatingly dull. I wake, I work, I over eat carbohydrates and I sleep. My life is a veritable catalogue of things not to do with your time on this rock. I have travelled very little, my refrigerator is unadorned with exotic magnets that have have place and emotions woven into them (apparently the energy efficiency sticker does not count and is a poor substitute for the vista from above Mach Picchu). There are no anecdotal photographs dotted around my living room depicting past lives or close friends in riotous holiday poses captured on yellow edged paper. I don’t, I just don’t.

I am a difficult person, I can be stand offish, aloof and even just plain ignorant but when you’re in, you’re in; I am loyal like a dog, an unconditional lover because you are a friend, a family member, a pet or a cactus.

I hope this days brings a connection for someone, somewhere. Personally I am looking forward to February 27th which is “International Tidy your Sock Drawer Day”, can’t wait to see how many cards I get. For me it’s time to move, mentally and physically and try to love like a verb.

Oh and in case you are wondering, I don’t have a profile on OK cupid did you not read the above?

© D. Archer. February 2015

Temporary Cups

A small, strangely philosophical,
badly typeset sign caught my awkward,
afternoon wandering gaze;

“Temporary Cups for temporary people”

yellowed sellotape held it
precariously against the wall above a neat washed row
of permanent staff mugs
emblazened with suggestive slogans, forgotten places, cherished faces;
I was badged with a white plastic disaster
thin enough to scald my veins
recycled like so many desk dwellers
long gone before me.

So easily crushed between finger and thumb
I held it by the rim and looked at my poorly polished shoes;
I thought of my mothers wide, skyward rolling eyes as I
sheepishly stork like balanced
cleaning one foot
on the calf of the other;

I lost my grip and fingerprints on the cup
contents pooled around my unnecessarily cleaned shoes;
I jumped hopscotch sideways
and only one blinked an eye
as I kicked aside my cup and dignity;
my gallows laugh filled “cancer corner”
where all the worlds problems were solved
in twenty minutes chunks
once in the morning and twice after lunch.

With stained shoes I stood surrounded
never feeling so alone;
I started smoking to fit in
and my lungs nearly fell out
I swallowed back smoke and pride
made small talk with little impact
and made comments that left conversational craters;
the outsiders words not ready for the inner circle;
but you, you smiled a wry smile
as I picked up my lungs
and put them back in my chest
I remembered my fragile freelance heart.

© D.Archer May 2012

1931 – 1977

In the pockets of my life
I have always found your hand
with soft thin skin
and thick warm arms
you safeguarded my eyes
and filled my ears
with your heart’s deep drum.

Countless times the cupboards empty
you fed three minds
with your gift of love
not wrapped once like Christmas morning
or expecting anything in return
you replaced the material
with the ethereal
and gave me time to grow, to learn;
yet I squandered far too many years
on a long imperfect need
until I heard your truth echoed
somewhere across the sea.

© D. Archer March 2012

God created Lego

God created shin bones
for finding coffee tables
in the dark;

God created the universe
just so you
could hold my heart.

He also created Knee caps
for finding Lego bricks
in the carpet;

Yet his master stroke
above all creation
was placing you
where my heart is.

© Copyright D. Archer October 2011 

Mocking bird

I’ll think of you
in the English summer,
I’ll think of you
in the English rain;
if I can’t talk to you
for just one minute
I’ll write a thousand letters every day;

If you return to the life
that holds you down
and keeps you caged
you will always be my mocking-bird
and I will feed you
till you sing again.

Through playtime and philosophy
books unread,
films unseen;
two steps forward
sideways, back;
we shared like lovers
in the dark;

is the horizon slowly sinking
under the wait
of the distance still to go?;
like a million lovers
long before us;
the heart says “Yes”,
the head says “No”

© D. Archer February 2012

The Twit who tried to woo

How can I compete
with tank drivers, drummers and artists;
why would you choose me
the one who can be lonely at parties.

Fourteen Facebook messages
and a walk around a sculpture park:
three pints of lager
and a bacon cheese burger
hardly entitled me to your heart.

But that was never on offer
and how I fell from the sky;
it was foolish of me to entertain
and to climb in September so high.

© Copyright D. Archer October 2011