Where the lines blur, and pages end
where I cannot see a future anymore
where the light and darkness come
and pass as time, here it is only grey
There used to be a window where
a sparrow hid at light-crack by the sill
shrilly in the morning, he would sing
calling in the light of God, he’d sing
The silence has grown thick, shaved ragged
potential, daydreams posed as promises
sharp was the resonation of our love
sharp are vile weapons and words drawn
between us now
Betrayal finds its way upon my tongue
I’d spit it out before it turns to venom
I’d have to say you’re poison to me now
left with nothing but constriction and a
Were you my elixir, but a count of days before?
How sweet the lily of the valley’s scent
how pure is her white compilation of
forever restfulness, the peaceful trickery
I’d say it’s time to lay this love to rest
Place flowers at the feet of mounds of earth
seal the wound of expecting hearts, we were
bleeding fluid prayers upon the stones
Attempting to bring the dead
Back to life
Finding love in an unattractive package
Feels as though love needs to resort to trickery
To satisfy the perverse need to be loved
But, also, to show that everyone needs love
Long losts to almost have
Each attraction star struck and devoted
If there is none
Then there never was and keep moving
Unattractive or not
Love finds a way
America, she bleeds for a full week
fireworks, freedom, long sighs and holy nights
spend days with the couchless and meek
then light one up, sink between in her thick thighs
underage trickery, plastic cards
and daddies to sneak in clubs
lauv on the radio and fake love throbbing hard
forget ancient grudges, clean cars with new suds
party again, launching fire in the sky
avoid the cops and pray salvation
don't come around too soon, twilight and the sea
bug guts on my screen, drinking, repeat until the sun's return
Listening ears don't come easy
Most come with mouths harbouring wagging tongues
Pouncing on the chance to retell your story
Exploiting your need to empty acrid lungs
Listening ears, they're indeed very rare
Unidentifiable no matter how well you know
Lurking behind a mask of concern and care
Sweet words employed so your cards you'd show
Listening ears could be just a myth
An idiom to quench the thirst to confide
Listening ears sometimes come with fangs for teeth
Hungering and lusting for your trust and pride
Listening ear, oh why you come with a mouth so foul
Why the cunning trickery and unscrupulous deceit
Kindness as bait, when in fact you prowl
Many none the wiser until they are bit
Listening ear, in you I gave my trust
I bared my innermost and gave my all
Hoped that you'd soothe my ailing crust
Instead you lifted me high only to watch me fall
The covenant of secret-keeping is not for everyone.
I love lighthouses;
Lonely, desolate, cold
Grown out of rocky outcrops
Designed by monolithic architects,
Where only ascetic souls can call home
Their light, a beacon in the darkness
To protect sailors from the smouldering sea,
And all her whiles and trickery
One lonely light, that shines out
Like faith, like hope, like love
So mariners will not plot a course
Into the shallow depths of death,
Book a room in Davy Jones’ Locker.
Life is full of mischief and artful trickery
The way through never made easy for the foolhardy
Misleading gestures only employed to solely distract
Left up to you to decipher and hopefully extract
Experiences teach much, had you only been accepting and learning
That a dove could be made to appear; out of thin air, out of nothing
When the road ahead offers no more than mere misdirections
Altered trajectories stemming from convenient misinterpretations
Your cards may have been dealt revealing astonishing outcomes
"Not the hand you get but the game you play," said some
Depending on deft wrists and a flick of the wand
Overnight you'll wake to find that a new day had dawned
Only would happen if into the wind you hadn't spat
Hope would emerge like a hare out of a top hat
The play on light and shadow, nothing short of dramatic
You volunteer onstage, accompanied by apprehension and suspenseful music
Faced with an eager audience; you realise that alone you stand
Be not surprised to learn that love is life's sleight of hand...
I have a Raven in my life,
It follows me just out of sight.
I catch its presence now and then,
I glimpse its flight, its hovering.
I am aware the Raven's meaning,
Its raison d'etre in life's scheming,
But what of its intelligence?
The Raven is a puzzlement.
The Celtic bird of mystery,
The Nordic seer of prophecy,
The guardian of Royalty,
A culprit of great trickery,
In all of this behaviour
As Joker, Thief and Saviour
Who put him there inside our minds?
Why let him follow close behind?
The Raven is ourselves of course
Our lighter mood, our darker force.
To understand we must give in
And sometimes let the Raven win.
His randomness can make us fools
His certainty can help us lose
But in all these times he is Us
And we should let him ***** it up.
The Raven is our twin in life
To make us wrong or make us right.
The thing we should remember is
Raven takes just as Raven gives.
I love the Raven archetypes in human history and our stories. It has a richness and prevalence hard to account for across so many cultures. I see him as more personal than mere archetype however.