..
I long for an ideal love,
But I cannot spin on a reel,
Tape myself with magnetic
Energy, that lights up rooms.

I pine for an ideal love,
But I cannot enter a screen
That flashes imaginary truth
In dimly, dear lit theatre halls.

Why is pain so real, so concrete?
Why is joy so abstract, illusory?

I ache for an ideal love,
More actual than godly stars,
Lovers living within golden light,
Always faithful, printed on film.

*Why is isolation so universal, so dark?
Why do only movie idols glow, spark?

.
Alive as a stone is cold, frozen,
Unmoved as drying statuary -
No blood was running in my veins,
No song was sung behind my brain.

Was I black as rock in wintry shroud?
Was I a phantasm that caught your eye?
My ends were sewn, threaded with hands,
That room, with you, was clothed in dream.

And I slept in a loft that chastened all airs,
I lived in a box which you buried out there,
Out in the hollows of the winds and rains,
I fear I was dead, before we became.

.
In the open,
Sun alight and in flame
Makes us bare
And we suffer alone.

In the daylight,
Sun addresses our calm
Colours us black
And we shuffle our skin.

In the outdoors,
Your eyes are blinding mine
And sight is cold
As we suffer alone.

I once loved you
And you probably loved me
Out in the open,
In sun that desecrates.

stars are held in a window
and sometimes the moon,

lopsided stacks of books,
knotty papers are strewn,

i like to rest on the boards,
day dream, scents of pine,

it's quite a lovely mess up,
still have space to dress up,

in a nook are some shelves,
i trained to hold dear photos,

so love to see in my wee loft,
poems, my cat, postcard art,

and my pane glass view I call,
full moon in garland of stars.

The clouds are windy
And foreign, light rays
In the sky is my dream,
I am nestled in wave
As we run sleepy to shore.

In the wet sands of beach
Are markings of birds,
Little traces before flight,
Their steps to heaven,
Before rain washes away.

The stars are gleaming
To know us, but I only
Know you, what mystery
There is in knowing,
How flesh is temporary
And the eye eternal.

Please come be with me
Into breaking love dawn,
Please come to know me,
Grab hold of the wind,
Set me to flame like stars
Above, I only know you.

.
So fresh his face,
Nutmeg and ginger
Like mine.  I made
Apologies for being,
Being late.

He was more than
Kind, so mannered
Like minded, unwild,
Not unpredictable,
Like my ex.

In the cafe, earthy
Smells wafted at me,
Hints of loss, of sad
Things unsaid, wet
Piney black hair.

Black hair and blue
Unfathomable eyes,
Eyes of a lad I miss,
A wildness uncaged,
Once caging me.

Faces forlorn, one frozen moon,
Eyes of mine, but clouds of stars,
Sea shells are pale, fairest debris
And not a neckless you once gave
To me, the ocean is a muddy flood,
A container for tears, rain without end
Even the sun in sky is small without joy,
Even birds in flight leave, not enthralling,
And scattered pines that line the moors,
Are lost to shivers in the dark wide opens,
Little things are all about, surrounding me,
Little things reminding of us, hounding, see,
Small wee things are in coldness and queer,
Little things mounting each day of the years,
O how little things alight were once so dear.

I skip my steps
when off to school,
In circles of lads
I hear only you.

at the dance hall
I could not breathe,
you with another
and softy I plead,

will you not notice
my hair so dressed
won't you allow me,
bright end to unrest

each sun, the rain,
each morn the lark

each day blind eyes,
each cry drops night

because of black hair
the crow will nae fly,
white shells your skin,
white bird of my eyes.

so far beyond banks,
my heart out to sea,
will you not notice,
my cry, dear laddie?

Your Raven black hair
Glistens in spotted sun,
Is lighter than air, combing
Through my weightless lungs,

Your ocean blue eyes
Are craven to my desires,
Rich and salty with true light
I pray our skin sets each to fire,

Your touch is want of mine,
My body craves loudest flame,
Hear my breaths, seethe alive,
Our heats frozen, love untamed.

Off lone island bay,
Outlander waves are praying,
Curly in their white caps.

Cars and lorries are creeping
Into a village still sleeping,
Coming in from nowhere.

Stones have things to voice,
There are stars of rock fish
Deep in bays with the moon.

Beyond night dream are lochs,
Darks and colds of longings,
Mountains old as confusion.

Birds chime their mouth musics,
Churlishly sent over moorlands,
All questions ring unanswered.

On broke beaches are notions
Of days strung to faraways
And sands bleached ancestral.

Off lone island bay,
Simple comings, waves, goings,
After sly moon, sun has its say.

The sky veils in a tear
As the misbegotten lover is still
In a tremble of vasted nothings
Even airs unsembled.

The rain comes going
With a lost breath settled sailing
And with eyes grey as regretting
Sailed skies cry rowing.

Now love is on a wake
And the clouds silently scream
To wait in trains of moon dream
White as a pearly gate.

I had too much,
Swirling in a bar,
Swells after swalley,
My girlfriends gone
And I, lost, alone with
Familiar strangers.

They circled me,
Paddling, soles holey,
Rafting under rafters,
My red hair drawing
Them in, motley moths
To a flame, locks lit by ****
And glinting with flit of glass
In peat drub smoking pub.

One brave soldier, sailed
On over and our glaze eyes
Danced, deftly avoided any
Glance as we swayed, silent,
His breath was dank, of sea,
Moist and salty on raw flesh,
I could nae help but wake from
Dream by the scent of only you,
But it wasn't you dreamful laddie,
In shelled ears some brigand shot,
Sprayed a cold loss awakening,
His words, nothings, oak aged,
I felt loudly drowning, caught
In a corner of rusted, hulled
Ship now sinking, he threw
Himself a line and I saved
My soul, a life preserved
By a leaving, breaching
Heavy waves, bobbing
Into the out of doors.

.
Each morning I rise unto hours,
Wheeling in sun, with wee wild flowers.

An hearty wish, on hills by the sea

Each day I skip about live stones,
In winds I run, deep dancing my bones.

I am made of each, cairn on hillocky

Each sweep of air a breathy kiss,
On skyline by the sea, one mighty bliss.

Dancing my bones, in winds I run

Each hour a new turning of page,
Each heap on hill, of these I am made.

*Wild wee flowers, wheeling in the sun

.
Must your arms
Be a circle of stones
Locked with truest heavens
Embracing me?

Must your hair
Branch in a wood so deep
Impenetrable and unspeaking
Where lost are souls?

O how your love was so tall,
Such a frame for me to climb,
But I never could see stars up there
From shy ground I felt you looking down.

Must your eyes
Make me see as someone
Who suffered lifelong blind
Lidless in the sun?

*O how your love was precious,
A plaything just to dole out only,
The driest morsel after long famine
And I, a feather in winds without sky.

.
My dress, sheer as blood
Under light, falls so soft,
Your fingers, stone hard
And pointed as the sun,
Free me from cold body,
I loose as my dress, fallen
And my spirit, bare, fresh
As the lighted moon, quakes
Without sound.  

Touch me  .  .  .
My prince, rake my nudes
With tooth and lip, smell
My breaking waters living,
This spring is autumn, live,
Like a pool shudders in rain,
My skin kippering in cloud
And my *** unleashed from
Shroud, you, my man are all,
I wake in a garden full, ripen,
Of leaves and old embracings.
My springs, eternal sprouting
From a source, branch to earth
Spend me, my Lord, fire me up.
.

I patched the sky in wishes,
White birds flew by.
I prayed to rain in stitches,
Puddles bubbled alive.
I saw a lone flower drinking,
And said I see you shine.
I prayed to the stars blinking,
And offered my blood to moon.

I patched the sky in wishes,
White birds flew by.
I prayed to rain in stitches,
Puddles bubbled alive.
I saw a lone flower drinking,
And said I see you shine.
I prayed to the stars blinking,
And offered my blood to moon.

I wish to go to Nova Scotia
And long to play in Breton fields,
Faraway and over the oceans,
For ever a bonnie soul shall lead.

I wish to row for Nova Scotia
And glide above the seas trembling,
Far beyond my earthly devotions,
Where ever a bonnie soul shall lead.

    I see long oars in every tree,
    In ocean swells, a boat for me,
    A lull of melodies in seabirds call,
    Beyond the wave is music and song.

I will follow a star to Nova Scotia
And suffer on seas of forgetfulness,
To play a fiddle with joyful Scotians,
For ever a bonnie soul has needs.

    I see long oars in every tree,
    In ocean swells, a boat for me,
    A lull of melodies in seabirds call,
    Beyond the wave is music and song.