I live in the basement, never venturing
upon those stairs, I hear her voice...
"Come up and see me its been to long,
Holding my ears singing my favourite song
repetitively until she is drowned out of
my thoughts. rocks tied to her voice as it
sinks out of view.

I use the stairs that open to the outside,
Lingering looking at this place I called home.
Venturing in the old ford, she lets me drive
it when food is but breadcrumbs and eggs
old enough to birth the dead fetes of a partly
grown bird. I look out though a ***** window
screen, this trip takes two hours each way.

I always wonder if my bald tyres are ever
noticed, but I'm not hindered by the thoughts
of this. So much to see when driving in solitude.
I stop at the side of the road picking cherries,
I slump them in the boot. I may eat upon this
morsel or just hang them outside watching
them swaying in the gentle breeze.

My father just looks out the window.
Doesn't talk much these days his eyes are sunken
like the titanic splintered between two pools.
I move his chair and his arm falls at his side.
collecting it, I put him palms resting on a blanket
He's so gaunt now, he was a strong man now but a shadow.

I look at those cherries lingering above the ground,
shaded from just picked to becoming spoilt, but i
just leave them swaying the aroma fills lungs with
life's eroding perfume, I breath it deeply within.
This is my home, "she never calls me for dinner anymore,
I just make my own, the washing up is festering in
my ignorance, like a garden of petrification flowering.

Saying bye to my dad, I get in the old ford.
Its time to pick some fresh cherries, the tree
is looking unkempt. Its blossom is in honour
of a mother, I hang them all there. My
Mother hung there for a long time ,but she's
long gone. So I bring other cherries to the tree
to show that she'll never be forgotten....

have you ever tasted cherries on warm summer nights?
the cherries that sparkle when you bite,
that drip down your lips
melting with the slick of your tongue.
cherries,
high up the trees, unattainable, beautiful.
cherries
that for a moment relieve you of your deityless existence.
I ,too , have met someone
unattainable, beautiful, high up in the trees
a dancer
with subtle glances at her own posture
as she pursues her lip
and tips her feet forward
as she moves to the beat
of life
her breath tucked in
making sure that every muscle is
attentive
her nerves singing and
her gaze
oh the gaze of someone of lustrous
cherries
held tightly to yours never letting go
oh those twisted violets
like the deepest of blue
waters
unattainable far away
in a distant land the darks of
iceland
the rocks that perk up high mountains
that rise up to the skies and tell you
no
the stormy winter nights that hodl tightly on
and never let go and
her that sits barely glancing your way as you conjure up memories and
imaginations of her of stormy days
of the clouds that waver over your face
that do not let you go.
She is all that she is intense.
She is mystical
out of this world
not one to know not one to be whispered to, beauty she is.
aphrodites daughter.
Even if she is unknown to you
the world knows of her. For she screams
she screams and is grabbed the attention of
7 billion. she is
a haunting memory.
The touch of a spell that binds you into
horror filled
trenchuous nightmares.
And when He
holds her it crushes your very being
you cannot breathe cannot see cannot be
you are all hers
you are devoted
you have become the very essence of Her
You cannot seem to look away.
She exists ingrained into your eyes
as you close them
in your dreams enchanted
into your heart
she is the mystical of the world
the fairy tales told by generations
of generations,
my love.
whom i devote so strongly to
whos cherry picked stares
fumble up into a
no.
I am a meer mortal in her presence
not one able to make her smile
trying to get an ounce of her attention
of her anything,
her everything
Please be mine
please be mine
please be mine
          you chant
But you know He is there.
The **** the wilderness wolf, cheating abyss. He has done her wrong but
she does not see her as she dances the gentle way she moves
black swan
blue dozens
the galaxies
containing the answers we have seeked
she does not look at you
you are invisible
but
He does not see Her for who she is
a painting
a beauty
out of this world
she is not mine.