Love is… sensing the soul of another Meeting in the eye of THE STORM Love is… closing your eyes Simply giving into the senses Blending into THE FORM
Month: May 2017
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it is the pulse between.. 2 strokes, a man dying or closing his eyes. to dream – his death, the gap between spasms: yes, yes. it is, i guess, the absence which makes what it is distinct. or this (the metaphysic is sick but isn’t): an infinitive (i mean infinite) void in…
Black and Blue
Black and blue Black and blue Is my heart Like the bruises you left behind… Scarlet red Scarlet red Is my head Like the blood you took from me in kind… Do you ever think of me? And wonder why I left you? As you burn there in the hell you have created for yourself……
What is Red?
What is Red? I am red… I am dangerous… I am a risk… Are you willing to take it? I am red… I am delicious… I am rich and juicy Are you willing to taste it? I am red I am fragrant… I am permeating your senses… Are you willing to allow it? I am…
In her heart a maiden
what does it matter come the day it’s only chatter what they say she’s had her life, she’s old and grey mad as a hatter anyway she turns her head with with muted cry to hear these words as they pass by she knows how fast the years can fly how all lifes plans can…
poet’s path
you’ve gotta kiss a lot of toads before you find your prince you’re gonna write a load of dross read lines that make you wince but there’ll come a time (one hopes) some day beyond the clatter and croaking of false frogs and toads you’ll find some words that matter
2 songs
the Lamb shall lie in the long grass; near-by, the Lion, in spring – II the lamb lies in the long grass, sprung
side of a river
side of a river for Keikei on riverside ave the estuary waters brimming to the field’s edge lapping under root and grass we called the sea upon us on riverside ave we crossed the the bar, the bar of shadow that would see us parted and apart with no compass of heart to help cross…
The Waterfront
I watch all night. To see the moon dance on oil, The shadows grow and twist, The little boats tip and yaw. Sometimes there are footsteps – Quiet and reasoned – on the planks, Hands cupped and faces turned. Sometimes you think that all life is here; Men and women and creatures, poised Under the…
You won’t stop me
they said you can’t do it that did it for me the rest is history
In The Sun
They joke, as old men do; All innuendo and bluster: Christ, you’d be a useless – But he doesn’t finish it because here, Side by side in the autumn sun It is too nice for insult, feigned or intended. They talk in the shorthand of shared lives: Machinery and parts and hard work; The glory…
master of arts
There’s no rest. & my feet hurt. the cats must be fed. & the kids.. (in my sleep – score the glass, the page between scissor blade.. s; daze & nights caught in the long grass between bright eyes.. lie. give in/up. the lot, every.. one. ah, bitter cold it is,…