Thursday, May 28, 2009
between horizon and ground
where eyes light upon and linger.
There is a magical shiver that
travels the spine and tingles.
Being human is being capable
of that gaze, of that view.
There is no room that can give
this silent sight and enthrone it
like it really meant something.
Yes it did – yes it will.
Waves pull and sea-folk sing.
20.17
06/02/09
Thursday, May 21, 2009
rips, slits, and soothes…
like a journey on ice it slides
towards the horizon far.
We each a turgid ragamuffin
who dare to bend; stretch
the cartilage or pull a muscle.
Rigor mortis coming in
to teach us a tale or two.
Sun spreads her fiery arms
to embrace, to burn, to bone
each shy squalid heart-excuse.
The rest of us cough like pilgrims
and decant our tales like sherry.
19.57
06/02/09
Thursday, May 14, 2009
You are the bed you weave.
If it could be different
you would make it different:
don’t cry over what you make real.
We are the beginning, we live our
middle ground, we grow the gold elixir.
Somewhere in the struggle I wonder,
yet I never forgive the plunder
of the self.
22.58
31/01/09
Friday, May 08, 2009
It was dreamtime and I was in your space; brown
lashes slapping tanned features furrowed, coyly.
You were seeking something through the meeting
as I passed the moment to assist.
I knew you were looking through for spirit song
in the books lying still, spine name revealed to me;
yes, I could assist.
I will pass you on your way to where you wish to go
if you do indicate, I did say, and I did make my move.
Somewhere in the shadow ether you will have moved on
towards your target immersed in sea shanty song, salt
dried upon your skin to mark the waves you passed.
I would be long gone.
14.42
31/01/09
Tuesday, April 07, 2009
Hombre
moves about
because he can.
He's the hombre
of falling leaves;
of time left lying
in shallow pools
bottom of the glass.
17.00
12/11/08
(Madrid)
Monday, March 09, 2009
Fool Defeated
coming through the space between
your lips like mysteries,
I know I have been defeated
by the subtlety of language.
When I hear in the still air
what neither of us
has dared to reveal,
I know I have been out-done
by the energy of the heart.
And when I announce my victory
to the stormy winds outside,
to declare myself the victor:
I know I have been the fool
who will laugh til ever more.
22.05
09/03/09
-
Friday, February 20, 2009
Very much alive
I have my alibi. I have my beating heart.
I have no diversion or excuses.
I am strong – and I’m coming on.
Yes – I’m coming on.
And the song is getting louder.
It will be sung all over soon.
I am not the only one.
I am not the lone singer.
Soon there will be many.
Then the song will be a great one.
Our future too – bring it on…
00.08
27/09/08
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Be Calmed, Be With Me
so much with me: your dreams
and the rivers that flow in-between.
Yet now it all seems lost; I have severed
the physical umbilical - you sense the loss.
Be calmed, be with me: in this world
all connections remain throughout.
The world as hologram holds us still.
Separated, we grow as friends forevermore.
22.35
31/08/08
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
where silence dwells
my heart is like a vacuum pill,
ready to love, ready to kill.
I stand before the seraphim,
no holy ghost, no ephemera.
I dance the polka-dot in blackest robes,
my heart throbs, my head is hot -
there's a space where dreams come to settle
and silence dwells like night.
I could love more if I tried, if I might.
22.13
31/08/08
Friday, February 06, 2009
The poison chalice
sits inside of me,
a loving cup
made of clay.
I drink, I drink,
so heartily
it makes my blood
black as love.
Come again -
if not now
then another day.
Something inside of me
refuses to lie down in the sun
or to go away.
I kneel like a beggar,
hands clasped:
am I praying
or do I betray?
21.40
31/08/08
Friday, December 12, 2008
Electric Vocal
against the electric vocal storm outside;
melodies of some future scrape against
the slumber of the solemn night.
I am ravenous for the invisible delight
of an opening like claws extended.
12/12/08
00.46
Saturday, October 18, 2008
#1
Of my being; shards of iridescent filaments
Spluttering and shooting like Aztec darts
From the blower’s breath.
Yet I get these threads of alcohol plying
Their trade in my veins and evening ways.
Out damn poison canals of sherry-wine blood.
Disperse – the warrior needs you no more.
On towards the great tightrope; where
Life dangles like a honey stem
Over the abyss, and wind trickles.
20.41
18/10/08
Friday, October 10, 2008
The Passing
Something that needs to be done.
Like a melody left unsung
A dinner uncooked
Lips left untouched.
As wind through trees does blow
So too I must find the true
Nature of my passing.
11.52
10/10/08
New collection of poetry available to download from here
-
Friday, September 26, 2008
A loving drop
from another human heart,
I do this from a caring debt
to leave a chrysalis behind
as catalyst to a birth of
some future butterfly.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
There Is
There is a rage, there is the dove.
There is compassion.
There is frustration.
There is the knowing
And the whole unknowing.
There are the stars shining
And the nights closing in.
There is the thankfulness
And there are the years ahead.
There is the flow of love.
And all of the above.
23.19
30/08/08
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Imperfect
if we don't get it right in this one.
This is no excuse to stop loving
or to love the loving too much.
There's a bigger picture waiting to be sown
through the threads of our imperfect embraces.
22.06
23/08/08
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Untitled
to your breathing
like a star's internal fiery furnace?
When I breath in and out,
out and in,
I am reminded of the way a breeze
carries along the scent of a flower
and disperses it like pollen.
19/01/08
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
Night Poem
We dance like shadows
amidst the embers,
as silhouettes burnt upon
the evening sky:
as a veil
that does not open;
a flickering
carpet of starlight.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Linger
I speak in song, I think in flame;
I dream of Spanish hills or
distant destinations
where the air is still.
I linger in moments
that pass too quickly
and forget that I was
ever there.
Do such moments ever stop
to think of me; do they care?
I wish to embrace the land
and tip my toe in waters cold,
to laugh along with funny
bird songs, bright and bold.
Yet something makes me feel uneasy,
a little queasy, as if this is not what is done
in this magic-less world of ours where
dreamers are forbid to dream.
Yet still I linger on in moments
that pass too quickly and
forget that I was
ever there.
Do such moments ever stop
to think of me; do they care?
12.36
30/01/08
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Beggar
I tiptoe like a beggar
wearing second-hand
ballet shoes.
If you hear me coming
I am ashamed
of my sounds...