The Kiss

Your lips are like wine and I want to get drunk
Close your eyes imagine a kiss
May you see the stars and wish
Passionate bliss embrace you
Woven in the dreams your mother told you of
Ill protect you till the end of time
Have faith your going to fall into the right place
The cogs are to fit into place
As the souls to your feet fit your shoes
As you step up the garden path
Past the full bloom rose bushes
Up the stairs
On to a wooden front porch
Ring the door bell
Yell hi honey Im home
Ill be there waiting for you
Great shouts have awoken the heavens
Nows your time
This is our city of angels
Gather your wings
You’re to become untouchable
As us
Seal it with the kiss.

blood let

There are those who suffered

more than Christ, who knew death

would be vain; nailed, or skinned,

the Jew by the Assyrian, which

no noble death can atone.


Even now the boy king weeps

in his cell, and all of his fingers

are broken. You know what it is

that makes men mad for the sword,

the rush, of the Arabian horse:


a child is beaten, starved; a moth

has its wings torn off – it is

the hatred of this that impels us

like the wind, a Robespierre

to cut off the head.


March 2016