What beauty today
In a land such as this,
Spinning blue skies
Dizzy from twirling leaves,
Stars in the water
Shining like sunken treasure,
Loose trees shifting
And dripping warm sun down their backs,
And everything, everything alive.
What beauty today,
In this land

Golden sunsets glow
Slanting through your windows, cold
Lighting dust into lazy snow
Drifting, drifting slow
The blaze first to go
Then fiery Amber toes
Paint red skies bold
Then before the story is told
The colour away is blown
And melts into summer nights.

The unknown is comforting in the thought,
That for all the bad that may come,
There is just as much good

And thus, I do not fear the future

We dance in the ashes like
Literary scavengers.
In the ruins and after rages
We draw the shreds of words and pages
Around our naked bodies like Blankets,
A quilt of the quintessential struggle
Which all people suffer

Wild strawberries
Tediously small,
Hiding among the tall pink flowers
And shy butterflies,
Wink and flash sweet 'eat me' red
Under dappled flower shadows,
They burst on your tongue
Tasting like sunshine and honey lemon
Washing like a cool blue lake
In muggy air,
Leaving childish joy
And baby smiles
Then the memory of sweetness to linger,
Until you paw through the hot leaves
And tall pink flowers
And find another, tediously small,
And hold it in your eager fingers
Soft, and brighter than rubies
With juice fresh and sweet
Running down your chin and your
Scarlet fingers

Craggy rocks gasping silently
Thrusting up small trees
With fluttering leaves,
And dust rising violently
Studded with dry bugs

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.

In the morning I wake
To the malicious swearing
of my wretched clock

Gleaming towers of ice rise
Sharp heads swathed in haze
Piercing dusty morning skies
Over a sea of diamonds

Red paint dries on a tissue
Slowly
The same rush hue
Glazes imperceptibly
Gently losing shine
And carefully dulls without change
And softly hardens until dry,
When you can touch it without fear
of red fingers, red clothes, red smears
But still, wasted paint on a tissue
Will be thrown away without notice
And still dry red.

Trying to feel the thinness of air,
Running through your fingers like silk
Gently pushing around you in a soft embrace
Intangible tendrils wisping around your face
Ever present,
And forgotten

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.

I am
Sitting in the sun
Eating store-bought chocolate pudding
Next to one who calls me a friend,
I cannot say the same.
The sun is warmer,
The pudding sweeter...
And the company is almost excruciating.
But,
Eating indoor pudding
Is nothing but bland.
And for all that she ******* about everything incessantly,
She is still warmer than the abandoned hall.

I open the window
And the cool air glides to the floor,
Waltzing around my room
Sweeping past my ankles like ladies skirts,
While the room above
Leaks off hot air from stifled whispers
Then, the music stops
And the whole room sits
In a swampy,
Soapy silence
Until the clock strikes twelve

I never win,
Racing against dragonflies,
But I love it.

Leather and whisky smoke
Whisping around yesterday's memories
Curling around your face in a haze
And you
Setting the world ablaze
Leather and whisky, smoke
And ashes shifting
That's you

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

I look for twilight,
The dim purplish light
Signifying neither day or night
But merely time,
held in lofty suspension
For precious few moments,
Not so blinding as day
Nor as smothering as night
But a momentary lapse
In the gaps between heaven and here,
Wherever here might be.

And the sun begins;
Hot damp rays which
Glow in the morning,
Glaze in the evening
And blaze in the afternoon,

And dusk begins;
of feathery air and fireflies,
Hot as firey amber,
Cool as a sea of Shadow
Growing long as day grows old

And the summer fire fades;
Long red rays dip below the sea
The cool blue air like water
Drips through the open windows
And sets cool hands on fevered flesh

The early
          Summer
                        Sets
In a blaze

     And night becomes the world

Darkness falls like snowflakes
It drifts down soft around you
Cold and mysterious
Sleepless and delirious
In a shroud of wordless peace
And sweet release

The sun falls swift as an overripe cherry,
Lighter than air, it still laughs like a fairy
Warm and wet and juicy and red
Along the horizon it slowly spreads.
Tossing up splatter to stick to the clouds
Filling the sky, its sweetness astounds

Then washed away by crisp starry rain
Silvery ice that soaks through your veins.
And each sweet day, and every night
The lights fly away, and out of sight,
But surely my dear, to beautiful eyes
Sunset sweet always brings sunrise

My jaw is frozen
Ice and fire creep up my numb face
Circling my eye with gentle hands
Tingling across my stiff lips
They call it 'filling,' but when I touch it
It feels invisible, empty
Unreceptive or responsive
Numb like dead feet
What a curious feeling
That numb is

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

Silver tongues, diamond cut,
Artfully place pandering
And articulate acupuncture
Dragging your cheeks up with hooks
Until you are caught by strings
A marionette madly dancing
To another's fine sour tune

Wooden love,
Forgotten like old bones
And memories

XxXx

Lies settle uneasily on her skin
Like thick perfume choking
All who are near

XxXx

Wisps of dust
Curl into the rising air
Like invisible smoke

XxXx

Exquisite telling
Of the corpse;
Sparkling wine and cold fingers

XxXx

Do not touch
the shameless broken glass
That lie like crushed diamonds

XxXx

Two buses
Full of empty people
Pass blindly

XxXx

Rising towers of ice
A complex of cages,
And we call it beautiful

XxXx

This is the way the world ends
(World ends, world ends)
Not with a bang but a whisper

XxXx

Because we are the hollow men
And there is never rest
For a lost boy

I'd like to hear a flower
Take its *******
When first sunbeam stops
To illuminate dew drops

I bet it sounds sweet
clear like a bells' beat
Ringing soft and pure
Euphoric and demure

Gently I watch from the dark
Pushing up a thin tissue front
Into the harsh light.
It wavers in the breeze, yes,
But let's through some honeyed light
Enough to twine my fingers through
And pour into me with life
My sheild from the burning,
Men with claws scratch, boring holes
That burn before my tissue can close,
And a sore, stinging soul
But the dark will wash it away
With tears and hope,
Innocence before it opens its eyes
To the light.

Where day and the moonlight kiss
Fire and silver steam up with a hiss,
She came at midnight, he came at noon
The sun was on fire, and so was the moon
Daylight and shadows are always at war,
And puddle at twilight, in gold on the floor

Life is like the air;
Always changing, always moving,
We breathe it in with ever-gasping lungs
It sustains us,
Keeps us moving, keeps us going
Keeps us changing.
It flows around us, through us
In us.
...
I love the storm.
It fills the sky with power
Becomes a masterpiece of air;
The wind ripping through the trees,
Swirling skittering leaves left scattered 
To dance on wet grey pavement 
The unassuming air reigns supreme 
Lord of the elements,
Firey and wild

I like the taste of cookies best
When everyone's asleep

Caught in a sunbeam
To knock one down flat
No thing is as sweet
As a cold sleeping cat

Her face
Her face is lit
By the candle she holds beneath it
Because she is afraid of the dark
But as the candle burns down
So does she,
But she is afraid of the dark

I'm a socially awkward person
Who comfortably pretends not to be;
My friendships are so spotty, I'd be dotty
To delude any of them not to be!
Although, its true, I have no foe,
But who would be my friend?
My silence is my shelter,
When the chaos never ends.

The taint of my love
Slips out to touch his pure heart
With corruption
Seeing the darkness fill him,
And shatter what we built,
I am purified in the horror
Of what I'd become.

The silence of the world
As I wander it alone,
Love it's warmth in solitude
The sky shall be my fortitude
And the sun; my sweet embrace,
The dew a kiss, and leaves a face,
The wind my friend and brother,
Why would I need another?
As I travel this world alone.

'I was beautiful once,'
    she said,
                  her weathered hands mending another torn patch on an old travelling cloak;

"It was good in its own way, I suppose,
    But it no longer had use for me.
...
I wore the beauty over my shoulders like
  A second skin,
          like a gifted jacket
                                 which I one day outgrew.
...
My interests turned to other purposes,
          And she was tucked away alongside the other tokens of my youth"

She stood, shaking out the quilt on her lap
     which flared in kaleidoscopic colour -
an intricate map
                     of tiny knots and stitches which had layered over years of constant mending,


"I make my own clothes now"







.

We have
Too much confidence for competence,
Such deliberate disguises.
Our silly grins grimly thin.
We are the hollow men,
And insidious ideals appeal
In a dream stealing spiel with zeal.
No rest for a lost boy.
This is the way the world ends;
Not with a shout but a whisper

Honeycomb mazes
And sweet honey hazes
Thickly sweet, mind glazes
Confused, smoke blazes
Making a home unconscious races
Falling asleep in honeyed cases
Trusting those honeyed faces
Gold drips away from honeyed places
And left with confined spaces
Wax rooms, so smooth
And no longer honeyed, but true.
*wake up

What is a woman?
She is too much
.
Too much joy, like her heart is a bird which beats wildly against the cage of her chest,
(the cage Adam gave her, keeping her together)
Too much pain to contain alone, a tether
To the hands of those who might abuse her
.
Too unrestrained in love that it spills into the world freely, unknowing of the price
Too free in this jealous world, that seeks to condemn what it cannot consume,
Ex lovers, or demons she dare not exhume
.
Too much place in her skin, too much shine in each tress
Too much space in her limbs, so she must become less
So much beauty and life, to love and to touch
She knows what she wants, a little too much
.
Too tender to be broken, so she must become tough

And what is a man,

But not enough

Steel grey streets
Wool grey sky
White-gold tree,
It's fall branches high
Silver beads cascade
Ink puddles collide
Crystal rivers parade
As though the white-gold cried

A crystal sun shines brighter
To crystal eyes
Than any golden sun ever could.

How many tears are in my pillow
And how many in my brain,
How many in my heart
And how many in my name

The stormy shore does blow
With all its wind and might
Then waves will crash
On rocks and splash
All throughout the night

***

Frothy waves tremble uneasily,
Seasick on the rolling tide
Shaken waters, choppy waves
Stormy seas on oceans wide

***

The troubled sea rolls in to shore
To bash along the rocky floor
And brushes quaint, the fishing boats
All of which no longer floats

***

The waves beneath my feet
My feet upon the pier
Day grows short, the end draws near
And dance along the rocky shore
For ever and forever more

***

Sea birds fly like kites
Soaring through the gusty winds
Sprayed by sea, they dance
In stormy revelry,
their wingéd fins of feathers
hoist them higher than the sails
Of ships, or spray of whales

It is cold tonight,
But that's alright.
Leftover winter air
Rushes through my open window ,
And coils of my heat
Languidly rise to the stars
Obscured by city air, true;
But still sitting undisturbed
Far, far away from this night.
This night that takes my warmth.

I took a class in psychology,
But who could ever hope to know
The inner wanderings of a lost soul,
The mechanisms making you tick,
You, conflicting conundrums and
Cautious contradictions...
You have classically conditioned my mind
To fumble over your chapter,
With your classical ways..
Heuristics never applied to you,
You are Freudian; hopelessly undefinable
And impossibly right

The dark drapes of night
hang over a sea of twinkling city lights,
held up only by the dark towering trees and distant velvety mountains.
The hot air finally cooled to bliss.
This is why I love the night.

The hard-packed gravel road in the woods
Winds and twists and meanders
And is lined on either side by sun-lit dusty branches
And thin twining trees with more leaves than trunk
Which turn into standing logs, tall and thin and dappled,
Branches high, dusky and shifting light,
Or a charred forest of once-was pointing out the sky
Or fields of soft baby pines in the sun,
Sometimes clearing to show
The sharp gentle curve of mountains
Rising green and falling blue,
Fuzzy edges of pine lining,
Slowly obscured again by one tree, then two
Then a small forest of thin trees
And dusty sunlit bushes
Lining a meandering, twisting, winding
Hard-packed gravel road in the woods

The thin, slim, smooth-rough
Tall, tall with flecks of fluff
Sparse, pale, dark and tough
Dry, dead, but alive enough
Tree grows by the road

Soft thoughts
Melting down my face
I'm a disgrace
Head filled with
Haze as fine as lace
Where is this place?
On long nights I trace
Your two lonely eyes
And quivering lips, me
Hello, me, I am you
You trace my quivering eyes
And lonely lips
On long dark evenings
Where blankets trap you
To the asylum of your midnight room
Black so thoughts light up,
My soft thoughts running

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