Love, you have liberated me
In every way.
Don't ask me to describe that dungeon,
For I no longer fester;
I am free.

Love, you have liberated me
In every way.
I don't just fly in my dreams,
I soar through my life
I am free.

Love, you have liberated me
In every way.
I am chained to you,
I choose to be,
I am free.

I gently nurture hope that we will always love, as we do, your me, my you.
Myriad possibilities dark-dance through my mind,
Light-love; of an abstract, labyrinthine, wish-want kind,
Take me with you, please, where'er you go,
Yours are all and only worlds I'll ever need to know.
Spend your restless hours in sweet deepling thoughts of me
Latching on to futures, that may ever yet, still be.

It will not be enough, it will never be enough.
Like that first time ******* high
We seek again, and again, and again.

Each day we die a little
More, more, more.
We crave, we rage, we cannot disengage.

This febrile fever betrays our terminal condition.
The world has caught something
For which there is no cure.

She counts the moments
In sighs and shudders
And sings his wonders in the wide and wanting spaces
At the centre of her soul.

She loses herself
In the world between the words
And hides his shy confessions
In the shadow of her secret self.

He comes to find me as I sit alone
in a tiny room.
I close one door in my mind
And open another.

We communicate with questions;
What, where, when,
why didn't you?
Questions…Accusations
Bitter, angry conversations.

Sometimes I am lying in bed,
Other times I sit, very still
And wait for him to leave.
I want him to leave.

I need to be alone
So that I don’t have to be alone.
I want to open doors that I have closed.
He is intruding on another life
I need him to be gone.

Why wouldn’t you?

I wouldn’t, because I couldn’t.
You don’t, because you won’t.
Daily life, peppered with negatives,
Seasoned with unspoken resentments.

My life, the way it is, the way it will be,
There is no point in searching for a key,
If there is nothing to unlock.

I'm scared, so scared, of something indefinable.
    I need you to hold me, but
I won't ever ask.

I understand the power of a spoken dream,
   A hidden longing dragged from the shadows
  To dissolve in the light.

            Tonight

I am lonely, I am hurting,
   Raked by Never's scabrous fingers,
Hungering for hope.

If I begged you, would you, could you, come?
   Spirited before me by the strength of my need?
No matter; sleep, our restless tossings
  are well earned, this is a just and righteous anguish.

We, I, you, we,
    Recognise the power of a lost, unspoken dream.

I have no words to speak of these tears
That arrive unbidden, an exquisite release
That has nothing to do with grief.
I can do nothing but allow them to blanket me
with something that is not quite comfort, but knowing;
"Ah, so it is, this is what it is, and will be."
This is a moment that is purely mine,
A recognition, something permitted, at long last.
No denials, for I know myself,
And can be gentle, now.
I love you.

Others have tried to please me,
They failed, because, deep down
They were trying to please themselves.

You don't try.
You just do.

Before you, I fed on happiness scraps.
They tasted good
but I was starving,
I gobbled up and pleaded; give me more,
I tried to be deserving.

But you and I...We don't need to give, or take, or bargain,
Ever-friend, always-love,
We are happy just to hold each others hopes, and hearts, and secret dreams.
There are no conditions, no expectations
Our lives are both complex and impossible, simple and limitless.

I will pour myself into you, fill the aching places of need
You will never, ever let me beg, or cringe, or weep, or plead.

Time terminates all inner truths.
Years will pass, we are the hare,
And time is the tortoise.
We will wake, from this delightful dream, and find ourselves
Excluded from the final prize.
Down your pens now, poets, live, live, live!
Take risks, love freely, be daring, try sharing,
Be the hare, but be aware,
You’ll look around one day and there’ll be nothing there;
Up in front, a smiling beast in a shell
Will watch you crumple, overtaken,
Speed is futile,
It’s the journey that counts.

A lost, dark star
Resisting the relentless pull of a black hole,
Taking, draining, breaking,
Its light could not escape.

Approaching the Event Horizon
A high-energy collision;
Caught in the gravitational pull
Of another, kindred star.

An expanding universe
Unleashing the power of creation.
Darkness recedes, banished,
Twin suns shimmer, renewed, rebirthed

This is us; you are the star that saved me,
The universe blazes with innumerable others,
Your light outshines them all.

This is a sad month.
The chance of another perfect Summers day
Falls away.

September channels melancholy.
Summer crazy turns to calm.
Excitement dies,
We start to pack away the years' memories,
Growth slows,
We ponder.

I have learned nothing.
Autumn's inevitability
Echoes my own, unchanging nature.

Perhaps I can learn from the season's changes,
There are things that I, too, should try to put to bed.
I will try to say goodbye
Not just to sun, and warmth,
But to my mistakes.

It's not a time for sadness
But for welcoming the chance to start again.

I have a scar
That makes it look as if my belly is smiling
like Mona Lisa, a half smile, curving up, and out.
When I stand before the mirror
I cover it with my right hand, automatically,
Pretend it isn't there.
When I try on a bikini
It has to cover the smile, securely.
When I strip for a massage,
Or change in the gym,
I turn aside from prying eyes
And hope they do not see
the ragged rip dividing me in two.
When I was five years old, I nearly died
And the scar saved my life.
So, strange that I reject
what I should embrace, with thankful joy.
Sad, that I can only see the ugly and the now.
If it did not exist, neither would I,
My scarsmile, my reminder,
Here, I shall thank you,
Here, and only here, I can reveal.

I catch myself thinking about your lips, again.
And one particular smile; I find it mesmerising.
Wryness and sadness and resolute strength,
That gentle smile, that almost smile, that 'shall I...?' smile.
There's a no-surrender steel to your stare, a hardness
In the set of your shoulders, the tension in your neck,
But your lips are all softness and so, so sweet
I imagine them to be; a piquant sweetness,
Mixed spice, vanilla and burnt sugar.
I catch myself thinking about your lips, again,
And wishing I could taste them.
My fingers to my own, I gently ****,
And lose myself in a cinnamon dream.

I am skilled in the art of the bitter self-slur.
Coward, selfish, ugly, weak,
For now, these are my truths.
I blend them, drink them in,
They make me thin.
I am myself. These are my choices,
I direct rage inwards, flee non-sanctuary,
Take refuge in the trees, and there, a black-eyed dog
bares his teeth and threatens, but I let him,
I pet him. His tongue is rough, and grazes me,
I laugh, and laugh, and laugh.

I never cry at midnight.
It's still too close to the drama of the day,
To doing, to being, facts, routine and acts.
Dreams are waiting, whispering,
Timidly sending out tendrils,
Tears remain untempted; this is not their time.

Near dawn, and only sometimes,
Sobs shake my unsleeping soul.
The things, the thoughts, that feed on salt, descend,
I walk a tightrope between night and day, begin and end,
I come so close to falling, and one day
I will just let go.

I’m feeling a little sunken,
Lurking here at the bottom of the
Ocean wallowing here in my
Muddy slime-filled pit.

Feeling rather lumpen,
Stodgy, awkwardly unblended, I remind myself
Of things unstirred, of things
That cause the upper lip to rise above the teeth.

I have formed a second skin, like congealing coffee,
Overheated, I am clammy, and I wish to shed.
Scrub me, I am just dead skin,
I am something to slough off, discard, and rinse.

She is five, and her heart is an ocean
Into which I plunge, warm at first, tickled by the sun,
Then cooling; her questions surge, and surf,
Here is a storm; steady, little sea-sprite,
Let me guide you o'er the raging waves.

What can I teach her, my elf-child, sweet fay?
There will be dreams; follow them,
Some will come true; more, if you believe, if you are brave.
Each of our hearts are an ocean full of dreams,
Find fisher-folk, patient, gentle, strong.

Love them with your whole heart,
As though you can save the world by loving.
Your love is a prize that the rarest will win;
Gift it to these, the ones who take your dreams and hold them,
Ever precious, as their own.

Its the perfect costume for a superhero goddess, and it makes her feel invincible; fishnet stockings, blazing red bra, heroine hotpants and the clincher; kitten heels.

Bunny can take on the world, now, appropriately dressed. She's got superpowers, alright, the doom-dogs seem to think so, and they're running scared.

Those rumours, that they trade and use and barter, of baby bunny's beautiful mouth, sloe doe eyes, and inexhaustible tongue. It's been said that she can bring an evil tyrant to his knees as she sinks down to her own, it's been said, she's good and bad, so very bad, so very, very good...

But, listen!

*** bunny's been given a new mission; There's a new and timely terror, and the doom-dogs are, of course, the evil source; find and *******, *** bunny, the formidable phallus of doom.

Only you, ***** tawny Queen of Dawn are up to the task. Don your whiskered mask, wriggle your nose once, twice, yummy bunny, and fly, fly! Find the phallus, save the world.

It's your destiny.
You were born to blow the horn for cosmic ****.

She dances in circles,
Moving through the beat
In the hazy spanish heat.
Skirts fly, hungry eyes
Following her firm brown thighs
Pumping arms, and thumping feet
in the hazy spanish heat.

She dances with abandon
Lost and found, dizzy and wet
With a stranger she just met.
Hands clasped, waist grasped
Churning dust amidst a fevered lust,
Move the dance to tangled sheets,
In the hazy spanish heat.

You are my dragon, dear heart,
You are the roaring force, the fire inside.
I will ride you, boldly, proudly,
Take me where I need to be.

I am made of clay, I need your flames
To make me whole, to bring me to myself.
I have been moulded, but now, I crave the melding,
Breathe on me; set me free.

Dream me now in brilliantine,
Dream that you are mine.
Meet me there, the blazing air
Will feed the flames, birth char-sweet destiny.

You can do this, breathe a world to life,
I know you can, firebreather, raging volcano,
Carry me, I burn so, lava borne,
to our world, dragon, darkly dreamed.

What pulsates, in here?
All of life, a carmine boom,
In a stark blue room.

Ice will chill, but blood is warm
Racing, chasing blues away,
Begging love and happiness to stay.

Red, forever reigns
Scarlet heart shall overrule the gloom
In this forsaken, sharp blue room.

Things happened, and
He bore them stoically, as is his way,
He let them shape him, he endured.

Things happened, and
He battled, shattered, but determined,
Born again from grief and pain.

Things happened, and
He built a fort with a towering wall,
Existed inside, with his pain and his pride.

Things happened, and
He let me in, gifted me his trust,
I am more, being his, than I ever was before.

All sound is muted
Vibrant colours overlaid with gauzy grey.
My skin, my hair, are damp,
As if those things were weeping,  but have ceased,
As if I am made of tears
Or, have bathed in them,
Yet, I feel nothing, nothing but numb
No pain, ah – well, a faint, dull ache
As if my etheric body were trying to escape.
I am lost within and without myself
All insular, enclosed
Boxed, redundant, closed away
Grey is the way to the end of today.

I don't want to write about the cold, the wind,
The rain or these January doldrums.
England at this time of year is desperate and depressing,
And I'm longing for warm breezes, nighttime teases
A pregnant, chuckling moon at midnight. August dances,
Wild advances, stolen, secret, hungry glances.
Magic, confusion, summer scents
BBQ, Samsara, Bacardi and Cava,
And the kind of flowers that try to impregnate you with their scent;
Smell me! they plead,  then kiss as I burst, spilling my pollen,
Blessing the union of your hungry, eager mouths.
January is barren but August is ripe, heady, ready,
Moist and pulsing, life is in the air,
Flee the doldrums, take me there.

I cannot be curbed, I cannot be tamed,
I cannot adopt moderation, or restraint.
My appetites are rampant,
And my passions wreak havoc like a violent summer storm.
Do not try to temper my lusts, or divert my inclinations,
For you will fail.
I will not have it said, that I merely existed.
Life is delicious, love is everything,
Why would you seek, therefore, to dampen your desires?
There is much to adore, there is much to abhor,
And I would not have it any other way.