the driven snow is driven bleak
and swirls of ghastly gorgeous
swoon in the nubile gossamers  
of undulating mist.
she is completely mad.
thought she saw a cat
perched in a quails beak...
singing cordial grimms
in a hologram
of dead love.

what are those petals in the iris
of infinity ? are they her soft hands, or papyrus ?
a sheet of hot winters, crinkling in the twilight
smelling of whale song and apple sauce,
her hair in a braid

of ravens.

go ahead. keep your gospel. but be not faint
in the hallows;  inconstant. stretch the fathoms
of your fathoming to the outskirts of fell grace...
and stub your toe on a perfectly hideous
god.

keep your trinkets in narrow crustaceans,
but sleep - where your damnation is a coin
and a bed.
deepen your sorrow where the joy is spent
and the sky, a crisp skin on a desiccated
blue.
be thankful for the hell you keep
but ascend the zenith
of your every
harm
to find your
proof.

be droll as the wet fools cavort in the pit. but -
keep your feathers adorned
and your feasts mobile.
glow and be done with it
if you dare...

but keep your heart spoken
for the night.

we're safe now, my sweet. love has come dangling jewels that have no frogs. and our temples are makeshift and dandy, but our gods are ******' nuts ! it's like the same thing that made you is the same thing you deny. but we're safe now, my lamby lamb... and the harps float in the web of their tyrannies, as the clock strikes a dashing figure in the window of our placid riot. and none of us are cool.

On my knees
where the sparrows
nova... and the long, thin
whiskers of Time
thumb the fob
of our dissident
Luck.
The schoolgirl in your mind
knitting halos with amethyst
sins.
a poor cloud on the veranda
of our unhappy Manse,
and a quarter moon
to lie
too,

Am I afraid of easy chords.
Silly Rhymes and cheesy words,
To get myself into the loop,
Become a Supergroup?

A smile, a flash, mag and a bang,
You’ll let me into your gang.
Keep me safe with brawny dudes
From semi-conscious semi-nudes.

Please take this
Lord’s Apprentice
And turn him into a God.
Not a Saviour
Of Pleasuremania,
But a Rabid, Raging Dog.

Sublime. Sublime.

Should I use my knife to butter up,
Not cynically cut her up.
Shake the hand of slimy fate,
Embrace the things I love to hate.
Recant in a million interviews
How to wake up and beat the blues,
Become a Lucky Laughing Boy,
A world wide web wind up toy.

Please take this
Lord’s Apprentice
And turn him into a God.
Not a Saviour
Of Pleasuremania,
But a Rabid, Raging Dog.

Sublime. Sublime.

some of us fade.

sink into the peat moss of our tapestry -
and there ; surrender the bones of contention
to grieve no more the plight of stars
having succumbed
to the moon.

some of us dissolve.

like sugar in a spoon
over a candle. or a horde of promises.

some of us are gone

the way happiness and a room
are a hope and a
hell.

but some of us are you.

and you're not.

every moonbeam is a laceration
of shadow. a slit in the skin of a
black heart, convulsing in your
mirage. an imaginary sonnet
killing bees and Time.
every moonbeam is a patron
of the Arts. a hard raven and a fist
of belligerent worms.

a coil of angry
jubilation

and a selfless disregard
for the Sun

where you left
it

lowly.

the sheer anguish of knowing you exist
corrodes where my happy fell

climbing out of you
is like clipping my wings
for a campfire.
snipping my glimmer
for paste
in a mortal and
pestle.

a craven cracked vessel
in a kestrel's
beak

like a handful of snake
and snow.

the last wind
up a flue
to kiss the carcass
of a dead
bird

is your laugh

and my
breath..

the flowers
are gullible lovelies
bruised  hinges in a flute
where the music fails
but Spring entangles the weavers
of Day.

Like the spider
of the Sun
is clinching to an avalanche
of some dark
pun...

Some English
on the ball
squares the
knot.

But the circle
jerks
and the dream
wants.

whatever it means
it means less...
but forever
it means

regardless.

it's like
the rain won't fall
until the sky
slits it's wrist
and the pure love
of the tainted
a black dove becomes ;
and an amethyst  
at night.
a black yellow
where a heart
has fainted.
and a solitary
white...

dreams
of black
lights.

it never nevers
until the sun finds you
and the moon leaps
into your hand
by design.

it never loves
until the price is vain
and the sutures are ripe
as snow.
it never leaves
because the kiss
is cruel
when the world
is the
world.... but ask
a jinni for a lamp
and be
nightfall.
see what you get
when your wish
is half full,

when your star
is a tree
and the mountain
a grain of
sand.

and your lovely,
a less lovely
as you
lie...