i.

the quiet of the meadows
as wildflower listens to the
babbling stream,
stones washed by the silvery
water,
the sun pressing the land into ghosts.

ii.

dusk sags like a balloon
remembers a darkening sky.

iii.

it has grown late,
poetry quivers on the
windowsill,
taps nonchalantly at the door.

iv.

the clouds turn emptiness into dreams
like morning frocks billowing on a line,

the moon walks over
sings of darkness and blue smoke,

the cold starts to sink into
the crevices, conjures its ice
like brittle honeycomb.

v.

tomorrow waits like
a hungry child,
she eats our fingers
and our hands
and we let her
for we can’t bear for her to go hungry
as she carries everything of us
forward with a little push.

sea of mystery
and dark desire,
harbour of peaceful blue,

mirrors like apple peel
twisting their reflections
into a song of me and you,

the leaves fall down,
everything falls down,
little alleyways of our love,

i promised you desire
and it was my weeping eyes,
my torn hair,
my dance in a poet's grove.

only your love
burying me in the
tides of autumn,
conjuring lips
and steel,
singing the deep
emotional blue of our hearts.

i.

memories fleet,
storms of an echoing sky,
she sings of miracles
her pockets full of stars.

ii.

a violin sings in the darkness,
ache and thunderous might
stretch across the fabrics of
a dying world,
plunge into the depths of a blue sea.


iii.

everywhere her love sings out
finding poetry unfolding
like the wings of a bird.

You move through air
with
the
surety of spectacular,
neither hidden or waiting
just there and full
of nothing but what is,
bursting from
this and no more,
only this and what is
and no seek to soar.

I sneak inside your mind
and tiptoe amongst
the broken glass
skirting around
disassociated thoughts
watching arguments
you thought you lost
sitting in the bleachers
of the upper reaches
of your subconsciousness

I find
I'm not the only spectator
that dwells within
your mind

you sit next to me
****** bare feet
you whisper softly
you're in for a treat

See that white knight
upon that fiery steed
that's you
waiting, for me

Waiting for the battle
sitting so calm
here I come
upon the darkest horse
ready to do you harm

I sat quietly in the stands
of your twisted tournament
holding onto your hand
waiting for spears to rend
skin from flesh
tear flesh from bone
waiting for blood to pour
from an empty wound

but the white knight
did not advance
just sat quietly
in saddle
waiting for a chance
for the black knight
to fall, stricken by
a ghostly lance
It was the white knights
chance, to catch him
as he tumbled
and fell

and there I dwell
inside your mind
you tumbled and fell
*I caught you in time