Peter J 1d
I had to reason with my heart
she had left her mothers side
to explore ancient times.

She yearned to travel among
desert winds and feed the wild
tenderness above the grave of love.

Her fear and loathing of those
who made her cry a drowning heart
and drive words out to share its pain.

Yet if I were a wolf, tall with crooked bones
would she trust my jagged smile,
purity would fall from swallows wing
and I find and feast upon her star
gently as if she were a wandering fawn.
#something like that x
Peter J 2d
How slow these hours on this night
Seconds count like spiral stair
And the hair of my father seeds
Where all that matters is living
Is graceless from deceit and age.

How slow these hours on this night
Seconds return from beginning to end
Behind times dawn far from eye
Where all that matters is living
Among forest bark and acorn shell.

How slow these hours on this night
Seconds spin out from fallen sky
Clouds burst from grabbing grave
Where all that matters is living
In broken tender sleepless eyes

How slow these hours on this night
Seconds only from lifeless breath
Fate holds it's flower in a voice
Where all that matters is living
In countless smiles and oiled tears

How slow these hours on this night
Seconds separate laugh and whistle
Where roots and nettles sting to cure
Where all that matters is living
In frailty beware these careless words

How slow these hours on this night
Seconds only from these winters robes
Tugged and branded sweet in wings
Where all that matters is living
And coupled bud feels no pain

How slow these hours on this night
Seconds from the crow of cock
Naked ghost felled nor staked
Where all that matters is living
Light comes with tangled hand

How slow these hours on this day
Seconds from eternal silenced sea
On mouth that calmed a storm  
Where all that matters is living
Left dancing in its dying light
#ive posted and deleted this before...it’s one of my favourite writes and I don’t like many of my works.
Peter J 5d
I looked deep into her
As if she were nature
Did you hear the cuckoo
I asked this May evening
She replied always
and smiled as if she were June.
#she came to me as soft as rain
#a victim of her own passion.
Peter J May 13
Pretend to be me,
just for a while
See what I see
What I feel
See if you smile
Feel my longing
Read my mind
Taste my apatite
Witness my detachment
Endure my need
Pretend to be me
Just for a while
Then you will see yourself
How I see you.
#selfishness
Peter J May 5
May
I asked her the time.
She said I’d have to blow
her Dandelion.
And my whole heart fluttered
just as the seeds that flew from my heavy breath
I loved her for all her faults
Even when she looked very May.
#Dandelions that turn to seed
Peter J May 5
First she painted a chair
Second her dress from another age
For the third she filled in all the gaps
on a patterned carpet.
Mother she silently murmurs
this chair is very empty,
she shut tight a door with crossed arms.
I thought she looked very October.
Months of the year.
Peter J May 3
Hands ache from this wintered breeze
As a gentle lament drifts sweetly
among the swaying reeds of the estuary.

May comes without the drifting sand of summer.
And loving words are lost upon
the sound of voice and ruins.

I was never afraid of the dark.
Until the night
I noticed how dark it was
#when you’ve nothing better to do.
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