It was late in the day
The sun was busy hiding
Behind the towering city
He hid in the shadows

He stopped right next to me
We each nodded to the other
As if we had been nodding
To each other for years

We smoked our cigarettes
Watching the people walk by
We nodded as they past
That’s when I realized
I might be invisible too

I haven't an empty,
Dead-weight thought
For racing cracks
Of yesterday -

Cracks that split
Faster than crooks

Spinning in
Red-paced,
Screaming lights,

--

Times ago,
Are times I know,
Only in now's
That never end,

And times to come
Are simply from
Times, the same as
Now and Then,

So, when I spend
Hours within
The greenest greens,

Glowing near
Bashing violets,

Or dance with
The street,
Feet locked in repeat -
Communion
With dirt red brick,

You'll know why these things,
Tickle my wings,
And why I choose

Now,

As my
Sweetly,

Forever.

I cannot see a path before me,
Nothing but a pestilant haze.
Bathing all resistance,
Hiding hope from my lonely eyes.

You the focus that holds me steady,
I fabricate a story that makes you love me.
Without you there is no reason,
To hang on parched in this dryest of seasons.

Dreaming up the missing mornings,
Filling in the longed for nights,
Your face and voice the origin of my delight.
Every morning alone heart strings tight.

I beg for my own salvation,
Set me free from this beautiful imagination.
Tell me to leave you and no longer love you.
So free and heartbroken,
Drifting like feathers over a seamless ocean.

My Vellum

Alluring and demure
In your virginity
Never yet
Creased nor crumpled
Your tight young corners
Remain stiff and pert
In their newness
Your long lithe sides
Tense for my careful touch
Lest blood be spilt

My gold nib
I dip
In midnight ink
Piercing its surface skin
And lift

It drips
One

Two

Black
Secrets
Back to their bottle

My hand is poised
Over your pristine smoothness
And with calm precision
I carve broad majuscules
That twist and cut
To hairlines of breathtaking
Intimate intricacy

Quick teasing serifs
Long lingering descenders
Strokes of tactile
Joy

Then stand back

Empty
In wonder at
Your calligraphic beauty

She headed to bed for the night,
And proceeded to switch off the light.
Then she tossed and she turned
Till the sheets were well-burned
And her duvet began to ignite.


© Marcus Lane 2010

Gold tipped crocus spears
Pierce the frost-skinned garden's heart:
Winter lies bleeding

I fear the way you love me:
That tender-touching kiss
Seducing me to nightly
Sink deep in your abyss.

Those smooth caresses take me
To places that I dread,
Your cunning fingers rouse me
To plan such lies ahead.

But while we writhe and tumble
In lust's hypnotic hold,
I fear the final stumble
That will see the truth unfold.

aɪ love the slipping vaʊwels
That seɪ yʊər neɪme
In gliding təʊnes that form my lips to a kiss.

The səʊnd of it brings comforting warmth.
The world disappɪəring
In the seɪfe enfolding of yʊər arms,


Naʊ peɪn and tɪərs of sadness
Are companions to the memory of yʊər passing

Once peəred and jɔɪned
United as one,
aɪ  thought,
Forever.
This child’s nəʊtion was innocent of aweəreness
That love’s lexicon is full of such partings

Naʊ aləʊne aɪ strive to grasp an ember of a truth profaʊnd
That while a part of me will alweɪs
Call for you in whispers
And long for yʊər embreɪce
aɪ’ll  preveɪl , surviving separation’s sting.
A tribute
Still standing,
Praʊd
And saʊnd.