(Monday morning, on the roof of an Oslo construction site.)

~

Seagull. Filthy peace flag screaming
His own name upon the city.

It is I! Eater of scraps, leaver of
Droppings!

Sword beak, dagger tallons!
Anti-raven! White blood cell of

Your airborne bloodstream.
The skies would be half a chess

Board in my absence!
I sit on the rooftop drinking water,

Listening to him echo between
Tired buildings.

Norwegian city morning.
Sunny and cold.

I watch the red of mist muffled light
On his wings as he soares towards

The bay for his fifth breakfast.
Today will be an interesting day,

I whisper to my soul as I empty the
Bottle and stand up.

A conductor tapping his baton against
His note stand, raising hands and an

Eyebrow to the orchestra.
Get your Monday in tune, and the week

Will follow accordingly.
Seagull. Filthy peace flag.

Declaring himself victorious
With his every forceless breath.

~

We knew nothing of war, we were
Brought up in peace.
Those days were a different
Colour than these.
We played in the fields,
Built houses in trees.
Few children on Earth were as
Lucky as me.

So distant, the light of
Yesterday's skies.
But I remember Paradise.

The smell of her neck, her
Hair in my face.
We'd lie there and stare into
Outter space.
We'd hide from the world, but
The world knows her heart.
She found us together and
Ripped us apart.

So distant, the home that I found
In her eyes.
But I remember Paradise.

I love to look back, but I need  
Not to pine.
Yesterday's carved in the
Backbone of time.
Pearls on the seaside,
Reflecting the past.
More solid than gold are the
Memories that last.

Smoke might rise from tomorrow's skies.
But yesterdays hide not a single surprise.
Time is a hawk, and despite how she flies.
I'll always remember Paradise.

Louder, louder!
Breathe me a storm, blow into
My eyes; force tears from a frozen
Stone.

Touch me with lightning, run your
Palms against my scars until
Your fingerprints wear down and
All evidence of our sin washes

Away like blood from a September
Crime scene flooded with rains.
Louder. Louder!
Shut my thoughts out with slaps and

Painted nails clawing and digging at
My chest in search of a heartbeat.
Once a man has gone cold, he's
Impossible to reheat.

Throw all your love on the fire, I'll
Only slip through your fingers like snow
Brought to a boil, kissing blister farewells
On your hands, rendering our

Love an open cut you weep into.
Louder, Louder!
Cry my name into my absence,

Cry the pain of love passing away in your
Arms like a wounded child soldier's blood  
Onto battleground soil.
Arise to avenge your hopes.

Take this frozen stone and name it Heart.
Cain to your Abel. Apple to Eve.
When love is reduced to a shadow, it's
Barely called ******.

Your body needed mine,
When it danced to the sound of my voice,
and the hum of my desire,
Remember when,
Your fingers fit,
Perfectly,
In my hands,
and your lips,
Touched me,
In all the places,
Words never could,
Remember when,
My legs pushed between yours,
and the world stopped,
and the pain faded away,
Do you,
Remember when?

Catastrophically beautiful,
Like kissing a storm,
and expecting,
Not to get blown away.

Shake out your shining tresses, Love
Undress their dark contour as the pink stars rise
And drowse around the smoke-ringed moon,
Like roses in a whiskey glass.
Take time to dream a dream, my Love,
Tresses fallen across the curve of your face --
Sleep away the late summer moon,
Spooning the stars asleep in pink lace.

Lay down your weary bones, my dear,
Stretch out on vanilla feather-winged dreams 
My whisky rose petal kisses blown into the night
Finding you on glittered opalescent moonbeams
Grab hold of pink-starred sweet slumber
As  silken tendrils puddle upon your chest
Tangled up in each other's lithe limbs
Our blissful hearts beat together in tender rest

The day came to an end as the fiery embers of the burning sun hung low and hid behind bruised clouds, setting into the darkening ground far off into the horizon. I looked down and checked the aged and black shaft of the arrow that I absentmindedly twirled between the worn life grooves of my hand. It had been shot many times and taken just as many lives but still remained true and sturdy. The broad head could have used a little sharpening but was still sharp enough to tear and rip thru the thick flesh of most big game. I muttered softly and straggly as I checked the nock. The hoarseness in my voice telling me that it had been a long time since I took a sip from my flask. The smell of courage hung in the air of my breath after a few small gulps; enough to feel the warmth spread evenly over the taste of my tongue and into my bloodstream, coursing it's burn thruout the extremities of my body. I watched out of the broken tree limbs, thorn bush, and **** grass makeshift blind and kept my eyes peeled on the decaying sunlit landscape for any signs of movement as the hunger in my stomach grumbled it's ache aloud. I took another drink to quiet it down and notched the arrow onto the string of my Hoyt compound bow, reading the arrow and my nerves for the **** that I had been anticipating and waiting for the past twelve hours but had also been waiting and anticipating for many days of my long and tired life...