A candle went out
A little flame on the tabletop dancing in the reflection in the wine glasses
hot and molten and fragrant, nights spent behind lightly-coloured veiled curtains
Mysterious, dancing, floating shadows through the curtain are glimpsed.
Tales of mystery, magic, agelessness hints in the small flame.
Scandals in the dark.
Wax seals on yellow letters
remembered by the candle;
the only light there to see on those nights
In stone castles and in hot bedrooms,
On steel blades of kings to their steely gaze,
to nervous eyes and shining lips
All reflected the burning candle's wick
Whose warmth and flickering glow were taken for granted until
a candle went out.

I like sitting by the river
The white noise
The constant running
The seamless flow
Floating
Music of wildlife
Stones smoothed and softened by timeless, endless current
The water reflects the world.
The sun and the trees and the reeds and the rocks
are all mirrored in the warbling surface
which carries the lightest twigs
and absorbs the heaviest timber.
Waves break easily against any obstacle, yet continue to glide eternally downstream
For water is delicate, but the river never stops.
One seagull stands proudly on a lone rock in the middle of the river and glares upstream, its breast glowing white and its tail flowing grey.
Fish flit in and out of sight.
The creatures of the river are as sleek as their watery habitat.
The tiniest bubble floats over the water in front of me and bursts.
Even that tiny bubble left ripples on the surface of the mighty river, humble, ageless and alive.

If I had the power to let the universe know that I love you,
I’d whisper in your ear, because you are every star,
every comet, every constellation, every asteroid,
every halo on the planets, every moon,
and every galaxy that makes up the entire world.
You are my universe. And I am willing to explore
each and every part of you.

I feel like the storm's passed
The battle's over, and
we just have to wait for the flowers to grow back out of the explosion craters.
We'll see if they grow back nicely
or if the lead poisons them from the soil upwards.

Do you love the flowers?
Will you water them when they need it?
If it doesn't rain for a week or so, they might need watering
and they'll always, always need sunshine

sometimes
some times feel hard
and all the while
the earth orbits the sun

sometimes
some times feel easy
and all the while
the moon pulls the tide

stars and galaxies surround each other
in infinite space, dust and light, rocks and crystals
moons shine and suns burn in their vastness
and our problems are still bigger than everything
our joys are still brighter
our universe full of laughter
sorrows still deeper than the tide
tall orders taller than the sky which stretches above us  

but sometimes
remember
through all your time
there's so much space up there
and only you can decide what you want to fill it with

dancer of the clouds,
ink of dream,
as if the sky, hushed
and utterly forlorn,
turned a pirouette.

Some people make me angry
However much they look outwards, they only see themselves
They only see their own face, reflected on the shimmering scales of the fish jumping in the lake by which they sit
The people like watching the fish
But fish and people can't be friends
because people can't see what a fish is thinking, even though the fish are always watching with lidless eyes
The fish; quiet, modest, good swimmers
The reflection of the onlooking person on their scales glimmers
Like a mirror
Some people only see themselves

I think I loved you most the winter your heating was broken
And we’d stay inside all morning
Pretending to complain that we couldn’t get out of bed
Our clothes becoming little islands on the floor,
Ones that we could not quite find the courage to visit

Your hand stayed glued to my hip,
Your breath warming my shoulder
Like a long drag of whiskey
That kind that had a home so far away,
In a glass bottle on top of your refrigerator.
The one that would not be opened
Until that fateful day in February,
When everything went wrong

And on that unbearable night
When you joked that you’d freeze to death if I left you
There was a long silence
Like it might be true.

Now it’s warm enough
That I show too much skin when sitting in bars
And you avoid me like the plague,
Whispering in any girl’s ear that’s near to you
Every time you see me watching out of the corner of your eye

We should have stayed inside when the ice began to melt
Because I think
When those doors opened and we finally ventured outside
The world had changed,
And so had you and I.

.
A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It's the tears that trickle with radiance through words.
     It's a treasure trove that hides but longs to
     be found.
          It's a book shelved high that wants to
          be read.
               It's the freest of all birds caged but
               unbound...

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It doesn't beat to the capable strokes of the artist.
     It doesn't pump in the most vibrant of
     colours.
          It doesn't wield a paintbrush to
          translate its thoughts.
               But it can see through the eyes of
               painters...

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It doesn't conform to the conventional parameters of lyrics.
     It doesn't bind itself to the requirements
     of musical harmony.
          It doesn't follow the conventions of
          genres.
               But it sings its voice loud without
               restrictions of melody...

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It's an open secret, that whispers in metaphoric codes.
     It's an exploding universe, that merges
     back into galaxies.
          It's a sought after painting, that boasts
          of unfathomable beauty.
               It's an everlasting song, that echoes
               within the poet that embodies...