Night
(which curls like smoky velvet
And stains the world like spilled ink, the colour of lost thoughts)
...
Descends
(like a torrent of rain, cloaking the golden world in whispers and dark corners)
...
Softly,
(More tender than a mother, it difts like floating silken feathers and starry dreams)
...
Covering
(So completely as mummies wrapped in promises, clinging lustily to skin like wet cloth)
...
The world
(Our world, blazing with light)
...

In silence

Midnight stars in clear black skies
Wink solemnly with their many friends,
Dancing eternally, the silent centennials
Stand Intensely aloof,
..
And with diamond voices, crystal breath
Sing boldly to the waning night;
The thin, velvet night

The gentle giant,
Furiously calming
With peaceful power,
Pushing forward, endlessly on
Frothing and abating
Against the blemished shore,
Wiping away the disaster
And washing it out for more.

Before the world came darkness
And at its end was peace,
But chaos calmly churned between,
A violent masterpiece

There was no witness,
No prosecutor or defense,
No jury,
Only one man in a room of judges,
Waiting

And soft, unto vivid petal struck
The tender hand of golden light,
The violent violet blue aflame
To every eyes' intense delight

Pebbles, rolled crystals
Tumbling from houses,
Roaring like lions
And timid as mouses

Frothy as softness
And wetter than seas,
The sweet rain cascades
On emerald-leaved trees

And the frost descends
Like dust,
Kissed by the freezing rain,
In glittering ecstasy

You fill me with sunsets,
Wrap the warm golden light around me,
Entrance me with midnight stars
And throw me to the heavens,
Where I fall to your safe arms

I've learned to doubt purple,
When fat white flakes cascade,
In ice blue eyes and winter skies
In a December rain parade

I savour the red,
Umbrellas and scarves unshed,
The blood doesn't pour, but the fireplace roars
Soft and alone in my bed

I swim in the grey,
Soft skies like seeing seas sway,
Puddles on tar,  frost on the cars,
Fat drops, like the birds, fly away

Hello, my darkness,
I found you at last.
I stifled the blinding lights,
And delight in your soft kiss,
Your velvet cloak pooling in the corners,
And the soft silk touch of the moon
Glowing silver behind your eyelids,
And your fathomless depths
Bleed like ink, and I breathe you In like smoke,
out like water from the abyss.
You surround me with your touch,
you fill me, even as we cut delicate missteps
In the sweet, swaying, firey silence
For I am as mystified with your cool secrets,
As you lay entranced with my light.

Each earnest and every chosen
Nit-picked word ready
To carefully clasp cautious ears
And carve out a particular path
This persuasion, both cruel and great
To bend a mind and heart ,
And push it down your choice of fate,
Entrance, enthrall, enhance, abate,
Convince you, and sell you
And a signed, written, and binding
contract controlling you, make

I notice how eyes,
So easily drawn in quick, uncaring lines
Are always attracted to the light
And always adjust to the dark,
But refuse to look
at the brightest suns,
Or the deepest shadows

Remember to put the pins
Back in the pin cushion
After you put all the pieces back together,
Don't drop them!
You wouldn't wish to step
On someone else's leftover pins,
Or pins you left over from fixing
Someone else.

The bitter rain came flying
Dropping like icy marbles,
Freezing my bones, the wind
Stung my knuckles with lightning,
Shards of glass scraping past
my tender face, torn pink
Like blood mixed with snow
And ice, this bitter day

Day by day my demons slide
Into a lake, so deep and wide
But some wouldn't see but a sea at least,
While others see oceans of evil beneath,

The turbulent depths turn, with time and tide
To come and go, and to no man abide;
But inner workings, ticking dear,
Casting them forth, or bringing them near,
All played to the tune of a tone deaf ear,
Which went never hearing my pitiful fear

And as they marched home,
Hollow from the victory of war
Only those who returned were welcomed,
Despite desperate eyes searching
For one more face
And reluctant ears intent
On not hearing another name on that list,
That long, long list.

Quiet mornings,
Eyes glued shut
Warm things wrapping your legs
And body
Cocooned In heaven
And also
Late for work

Soft cotton fingers
Gently lift my head
From rolling shoulders
Rising up like smoke,
A waking dreamless sleep.
Rest, wanderer
Be still.

Today, I'm a little lost
A little aimless wandering
A little stuck between here and there
Drifting effervescently
Ephemerally
Ghostly, almost
Gone

If you look at the things
You no longer see,
They will become new again,
And so will you.

Let me love for the good,
Not hate for the bad.
Live for the happy,
Not die from the sad.
For there is always light in the dark,
If you only choose to look.

It is not a measure of health
To fit in a sick society

Breath froths thick from my lips
Like cotton,
Drawn out into the thin autumn air
Forming gusty halos,
Wreaths of white,
Cheeks and nose pinken
From the crystal kisses
Placed gently like angel wings
Tingling with magic
In frosty air

Taking comfort in
Each others souls
As the rain pours
Around us
Like ice.
I love you,
Old friend.
I do.

The telltale rattle of old bones
Hangs in the thin night air
From tenuous strings
Of what once was

The heavy rain falls swift and stark,
On these hills, the wheeling lark
And sodden sparrow sing in the dark,
As the sea falls from the sky.

The wind blows strong, the trees all hiss,
The arrows strike an icy kiss
The water drowns in anguished bliss,
As the sea falls from the sky.

I pity him with no place to hide,
But wet, in frozen arms abide
A spark against this fearsome tide
As the sea falls from the sky.

Watching my days on a crimson slide,
Born with the moon and run with the tide.
Faces in the shapes and the shifts to hide
Running to the wind on my crimson tide.

Reaching for the places, the faces all shied,
Saving all the graces and the races were tied.
The lock has a key and a bolt to hide,
The faces had the traces of a crimson lie.

The moonlight shone with the sun and sea,
The silver sickles tickled as they struck at me.
I'm free to be trapped and trapped to be free,
A world awash in crimson is all I see.

I'm all that I am and I will try to be,
Stuck to the sand and poured in the sea.
Rough to the hands, and cool and sweet
Crimson is no prison when you are born free

The silver moon sighs,
Softly darkening skies,
Trapped in her crystal net;

The sun parades on
With a sapphire yawn,
Chasing his sweet Juliette

A honey-wax candle, dusty on the shelf,
With a wick so white and naïve.
It's sweet flame and dusky embers never licked,
For on a shelf it sits, unlit.
It never had burnt down
To ash, but its sweet golden crown
Sits safe on a dusty shelf.

If day is life
And night is death-
Then what is dawn or dusk?
The death of death will dawn,
But life goes on and on

The mourning star falters
For in all the calm before,
It was forced to watch helplessly
As Earth grows up.
And yet, it still shines.

Today, I looked up, And saw
a tiny stain in the shape of a bird
Pressed to my ceiling.
How ironic, I thought
That such a moment of freedom
endlessly trapped,
Is still so free for the bird.

Too many tortured souls,
But here they found
A place to be set free.
Hello, poetry.

Do I dare disturb the universe;
With dreams so much more
Than dreams?

Thick wool eyes
Flutter uncertainly in the morning
Tumbling out of their spinning dreams
And into the darkness,
fingers fumbling in the cold
For the light switch,
Eyes sear and water with overflowing light,
Feet curling on the cold floor,
Hands blindly grabbing at clothes
Thick wool swimming lazy circles
And softening your mind
In the early morning

I look at the sky and see
So many stars,
I wonder how many have already gone out
But still exist here,
Shining their light, even after they fade
Into the dark.
And I think that you, too
Must still be shining somewhere
Amid this black and turbulent sea of hate,
Shining your light
When you are already gone.

I was born in this world
With a day-old heart
And an ancient mind

It would be easy for me
To be a princess on Halloween;
I would don my housecoat and jewels,
Paint my face and pretend,
Twirling, through the night of dead wishes
And cling to the dear transience,
Dreaming that it could last.

Dizzily trilling  flight
And a soprano of feathers;
Dancing dark with a warble,
Spinning crescendo from the beak:
A blazing duet with the wind,
And a circus of flightful singers,
Wheeling around tuneless
Through the air of musical trills,
And feathers and bills.

Sleep, sweet memories,
Let all your fears be rest.
Engage your dreams with frivolries,
For all your heart knows best