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for E.B.

I knew you were sad
the only way I could think to help 
was to bring you to the countryside
as far away as we could get 
from your home in the midlands
far from mine in the south west

we slammed the car doors when we got out
it was the loudest sound for miles
you looked up at the sky 
furrowed your brow at the stars
like someone had stolen them from you
we don't have stars like this in the city*

you didn't cry like I thought you would
I am sorry that someone has taken your stars
so here I am giving you mine
I wanted to tell you that if you're sad 
to look at the moon
but I don't think you see the moon
in the same way I do
We lived
in this ***** of opiates
wondering whether
their opinion really operated
on our open minds
and if so-
how could we stop its course?

In these twilight zones-
these sinking waking hours
thoughts were reborn to dust-
ashes
the old thrill returned
me to my purpose- borne ship
pilot-stars gazing upon a pivotal
soar of connection
Stretching out into the silence and straining for something
all souls once knew;
the thrill of living despite it all-

The knowledge that I am still
enchanted
ecstatic
ensnared
by life itself.
I chased this evening
evening's fade in sunset clouds,
silver tin-foiled filigree
tied to grey-as-granite mountains.

Tinted skirts of hazy
daytime's late farewell lit night's
ballooning moon parade
displayed as fire on quiet shoreline.

Invasive scarlet-swathe
hued day's best forgotten noon
when darker stronghold's rain
rolled dust into cascades of gloom.

Drifted with waning sky's
azure came memory's beams,
pain-shot their spotlighting
shadows still haunting my dreams.

Yet I chased tonight
night's demons away by love's
recall when I saw brighter
his star winking at me from above.
When half the world was blank on maps,
when people still believed in magic,
sounds became muffled
as underground tappings sprung up
in the hills and holes appeared.
Feet vanished for what seemed like days
then flat Northern caps
full of dust, topping faces of loot-happy
smiles shuffled off hazily
clutching large seeds of glimmery gold.
White-knuckled black
fists clutched closely to ribs dead weight
of their findings, bags
of pure alchemy, stones which changed
when kindled in home-made
dirt-hearths, to the hot comfort of flame
keeping away winter's cold.
Nuggets lost beneath time became finds
worth more than diamonds
when, in days of old, warmth could save
peasants' work-worn lives.
Yes, coveted then was possession of coal.
to have a talk with you
you measure my distance
three times as patience as fury
moving away from the origin an instant
six minus or equal feelings
Than ¾ a glass of wine
fine related-rate problems

you talk like this:

we need to implement the ability
to insert exact speech,
including additional pauses.
pitch-changes.
speed-changes.
when addressing each other.
fifteen
eighteen
twenty-one
(a+b) – (Me) = like this:
two steps back steps forward three
Let's dance till midnight come
And carve our memories through time
So even you forgot my name
You'll still remember our dream
Oh cinderella~
A moment in the multitude
In that instant gem of time
When something immensely precious shone
An exquisite blue light
When then, you and I waltzed to the music as one
And sweet time stood still.

M.
RIP Flute
2014
Ye, Oh ye my little ones who patter forth on silent feet
Ye who whisper secretly with downcast eyes, perchance we meet,
Thee who failed, in droves, to vote yet mouthed foul words at what transpired
Across this nation wallowing, wringing hands, feel defiled,
Pray glance now at thy countenance shadowed deep in mirror’s face,
Scan thee there integrity?…. or see thy image thinly graced?
Shoulder thee this burden’s share now burning in thy conscience flame?
….or disdainfully dismiss, absolving thee from
vivid eyes of blame?
Hark the herald Angels sing
so witness thee, thy forsakening.

M.
The White House, Hamilton NZ
23 January 2017
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