In the heartbeat she gave me,
would i give all to thee
once more.

Holding a lantern, walking myself out the dark
I found life in the very depths of darkness
Consuming that darkness into me
I feed my burning soul, I satisfy her heart
I see that this soul of mine
Knows everything my mind would dream of knowing
And yet, it sits back and watches me fight
Like a warrior, this material desire
In a world which is wonderful and deadly
Shining like the bright evening star on black
Generous, cruel; Stupid love, blind faith
To tell you, beautifully confusing.
Kindling within me, she screams at me
For every thing I do, confusing me
Now I know not the difference between ugly and beautiful
Pain and pleasure, they have made me numb
And I am just a bud,
Just a bud somewhere on an undiscovered species.
Fighting my own shadows,
Letting myself drown, fall, in love and cry
What do I know now?
Nothing, yet everything
I know everything yet how young I am
So, I know nothing; That young I am
In a world so beautiful, I tell myself
Not to fall in love with souls which cannot give to me
Behind my smile, I am dying
How beautiful you are, how beautiful all this is
Is this a blessing? What kind of a curse is this?
Please, I am tired of falling in love
Fighting back my tears like a lifeless weapon
I tell my soul that my heart is not numb
Do not play with it
I scream "Leave me alone"
How beautiful you are, how beautiful all this is
Is this a blessing? What kind of a curse is this?
Please, I am tired of falling in love.
What do I do with all this inside me?
I cast it upon myself
What would I do with this undying loyalty and hope?
I bless myself with all I have
Do not play with it
I scream "Leave me alone"
How beautiful you are, how beautiful all this is
Is this a blessing? What kind of a curse is this?
Please, I am tired of falling in love.
So, this soul insists that I move on
With a heavy heart, She tells me I am worth
With a smile on my face, I am weeping inside
But this soul inside me insists that I move on
I have a million more galaxies waiting to be explored
No time to waste
No time to sit and cry
I have a million more galaxies waiting to be explored
So with an immortal hope that you would turn,
And accept to take what within me does burn
I hold a lantern, walk myself out the dark
Finding life in the very depths of darkness
Consuming that darkness into me
I feed my burning soul, I satisfy her only heart.

i sit on the bathtub's edge
weeping
not from grief,
tho i still wear it's coarse haired, grey cardigan
but from the pain,
emenating,
from my recently reconstructed leg.

broken and pinned
in summer, to all intents and purposes healed.
it and me have been ****** into the pre winter cold snap
on the moutains,
it is so freaking cold,
my breathe splumes
before me
and my poor mangled apendage, with the livid scars, where the bone had silvered through
is protesting with
a ferocious, throbbing ache.

i have tablets, and have taken them,  but i am in here
trying to warm the air with
the water running hot from
the shower.
i cannot stand long enough to stand under the water's spray yet.

ben, sleeps still,
in the other room,
he is exhausted,
from bearing the grieved desolation that is Laz.
he could do nothing to help,
at present, no one could.
but tried so very hard.
so i leave him to sleep......

...and hope the pills kick in
soon.

we sit, with coffee steaming
gently before us, rugged up
tourists , waiting for the sun
to remember warmth.
our hands in pockets
but wanting to seek out each others, we constantly touch at present to reassure and bolster courage.
people walk briskly past us
a few nodding in half remembered acquaitance..
a lifetime ago, this was my
choice of abode, my seat of learning, and i reveled in the clear cold mornings, with the bite of wind and snow in the air.
now as we sit, hoping the bacon and eggs will arrive soon... i am thinking it was never this ****** cold before...

Paul,
   Paul
you plucked those two strings
and **** near took
me to my knees.
Knocked the breath
right out of me.

r ~ 5/9/14

The Black Guitar

Clearing out ten years from a wardrobe
I opened its lid and saw Joe
written twice in its dust, in a child's hand,
then a squiggled seagull or two.

                                                    Joe, Joe

a man's tears are worth nothing,
but a child's name in the dust, or in the sand
of a darkening beach, that's a life's work.

I touched two strings, to hear how much
two lives can slip out of tune

                                                then I left it,
brought down the night on it, for fear, Joe
of hearing your unbroken voice, or the sea
if I played it.

The Black Guitar, Paul Henry

They say it’s okay in the end.
But I can think of so many times
when it wasn’t.
Or maybe that’s what death says
when he takes your hand.
”It’s okay…”

up on the hills
the sheep graze
moving in wooly clouds
from green to green

if the wind blows the right way
you can hear their contented
baa-ing conversation.

down closer the duck pond is
teeming ducks all trying for the
bread and pellets, thrown by
a little girl in bright pink hooded
parka, mother standing beside

on the breeze, the smell  of fresh scones baking.

in my hand, tea milky and sweet.

on my mind,  the flavour
of jam, i will eat with those
oven warm scones.

saturday afternoon,
visiting old friends.
helps remind me life is good.

You said I love you.
I say I love you more.
But love is a prime number,
and zero squared is still zero.

r ~ 5/10/14