I want to spread you on my toast,
And pour you in my coffee
Let me lick you off my lips for breakfast
And taste you on my morning breath

When the fatigue of the tree festers
When the leaves weep
And side-sweep
And sap leaks of the arboraceous bole
The foul smell of dampened,
Fermenting flora
The bog
The muck
The moor
Forever grot and grunge
But never moans,
Never loathes the morning
Never curses the sun for rising
Or hexes the moon,
Or thinks life bleak or banished
It settled in its mold
The duty it was told,
It’s destined purpose
As a puddle upon plates of terrain,
A tamed stain, remaining unmoved
And unaffected by
You and I,
Unaffected by passerby’s
Translucent and still,
Entirely exposed and yet unseen
Insouciant,
Tranquil
Composed
Serene

I’ll stop getting mad
If you stop giving me all
Those reasons to be

And I will trust you
As soon as you stop giving
Me reasons not to

Wine has a color like my thoughts
Dark and wet
Because my mind is a dark room, with dew on the walls
And mold in the corners
It’s so empty I hear my dreams echo from when I was sleeping
Eleven hours ago
And honey has the consistency of my thoughts
Slow and thick
And sticky
Not letting go of the past
And collecting everything as it blows by
Just to get heavier and
Have me grow more sorrowful
My honey-thoughts and mind of dark places are unlikable
And I much prefer my old, fan-thoughts
That would blow the negative things away and cool me down
And my old mind of a castle so broad and beautiful with framed pictures on the wall
And marble stairs
Clean (never collecting dust), and organized
Where did it go?
Why did it leave?

Inside my heart, is
A special little corner
Reserved for nature

Counting the beautiful things as I walk
Seeing what nature has done to the world without our help
What the world could have done if we had never came here
To destroy what it is capable of
Oh earth, I am sorry I’m one of them

I look at life
With a warm cloak around me,
The mantle of your amiability
And when you unfastened the veil
Over my eyes,
To my surprise,
I saw the Elysian Fields,
Waterfalls
Mountains high,
Kaleidoscope lullabies
And all my fantasies underpinned
By the foundation we blanketed
The quilt of our proclivities
The dreams we animated
The dance we seize
Our castles in the air
Our lair
I’m struck with glee,
I’m thankful for your anatomy,
I’m thankful that you took me there

My heart pumping iron like a
Boilermaker
The steady hand; focused mind
Next move,
Weave through
Don’t swallow untruths
Reworking foundation like a
Millwright
Don’t let the past dismantled disarray
Frighten you away
The plans frayed
The gas breaks
I’m interlocking interrelations like a
Pipefitter
Piecing together chronicles
Of a story fabricated
Easily persuaded
Vulnerable and naked
If you’re awake,
Don’t make me wait,
Fated to the dark
Until my iron coagulates

The night outside was a solid mist
You couldn’t see past three feet,
Or so she thought, the Telephonist
As she came back in from the street.
There was no point following Jill and Tim
For the mist had swallowed them up,
They’d wandered out for a drink before
To head for the ‘Stirrup Cup’.

So Caryn finally went inside
And stood by the lounge room door,
There was blood, red blood on the candlestick,
There was blood, red blood on the floor,
She opened her mouth and she tried to scream
But couldn’t begin to shout,
She seemed to be locked in a crazy dream
And the folk in the house were out.

There wasn’t a body that she could see
But chills ran over her spine,
She wondered about her sister, Jill,
Then thought, ‘I’m sure she’s fine!’
But Tim, now there was a moody man
And his anger knew no bounds,
She’d hidden from him in her room before
When he’d stomped the house and grounds.

She staggered into the street again
There must be someone to call,
She felt her way through the garden gate
There was blood, red blood on the wall,
And a trail of blood lay under her feet
That led to the ‘Stirrup Cup’,
She felt the gorge rise up in her throat,
She was close to throwing up.

She felt her way through the evening mist
Stuck close to the kerb as well,
There was blood all over the bailiwick
As she called her sister’s cell,
It rang and rang ‘til it rang right out
And Caryn let out a moan,
But then a text on her tiny screen
That said one word, ‘Alone!’

She felt so faint that she stumbled then
Her head was a pounding wreck,
There was blood, red blood in her auburn hair,
There was blood on her cheek and neck,
She seemed to glide to the further wall
And caught herself looking down,
Down to the blood where her body lay
All crumpled, there on the ground.

And Jill and Tim found her lying there
As they walked by a stranded bus,
‘Oh God, it’s Caryn, my sister, Tim,
She must have been following us!’
They called the Police and they got back home
To find the blood on the wall,
There was blood, red blood on the candlestick
And blood all over the hall.

While Caryn drifts in a nightly mist
That you can’t see past three feet,
She used to be a Telephonist
But now she’s lost in the street.
Wherever she turns there’s blood, red blood
But she can’t believe it’s hers,
She seems to be locked in a crazy dream
Of a never ending curse!

David Lewis Paget