my breath* .....

1.
the powerful, yet gentle wind beneath this dismal, broken flight
the crazy, brilliant ship on stormy seas;
can’t fly over to you ... on wounded wings
can’t sail the wide oceans .... without its captain.


2.
should grow up, by now....
but just can’t, ok.
why so afraid of what longs to be, what's meant?
let me tell you, this is real!


3.
how failure sits smug, an endless smirk
hopelessly try to put it all together again.



you are ....my very breath.... and yet,
you are ....still unable to see ....


S T, 30 May 2013

1.
white chapel on a hill

sheep dot rugged, earthy slopes

ruminate on warm, sun-kissed dale

endless lines and lines of verdant tones

late afternoon sun slanting

behold, jaune compassion

alfalfa ocherous leans willowy in wind

distance of silence yearns on

afternoon shadows lie within majestic vales

powder-blue ranges in 3D tiers

shadowy rifts, like a painting out of heaven

lone tree not alone, reaches up

blinding turns and rust-coloured bends, twisty trails

two on horseback, apples for sale

reservoir as a hold all for all

brown mud is where redemption lies.


2.
sun dips away, out of reach

beyond the eye's catch

step out car

feel the ping of silence, deeply-alive zing

crowd in and then,

into the slot of torched horizon

the orange world slips . . .




S T, 19 May 2013

1.
to give a chance, to an attending unsophisticate
await proof of whatever revered worth wanted
seeming to have little or no life experience
means not there's nothing to give

time-trenches furrowed in mire too deep . . .


2.
assume nothing so easy of another
chickety-choo, just see it through
fine particles of gray comet's tail ricochet in the eye
friction desired, yet not always

there is some pluck, you know . . .



3.
you see, as many a soul-straggler roams
some may not shine as bright as desirous fit
but (amongst other things)
actually, they do have something others crave

still unconverted, slow-releasing grit . . .



4.
no crisis here, only eager groom-in-waiting
cheerful chevy, too bright on wooden words
zigzagging to capture all-elusive allure
banish each espiegled scab

clip-clop, tear not off old wounds.



5.
So, even as half-regarded not good enough (yet?)
nails screech on board, turbulent cadence
tips dig deep into sinking blades
grant that chance not only to let make, but to make a mark . . .


for strangely, I already know.



S T, 16 May 2013

1.
your words are oft like sweet-sour packages in the post
excitement mounts to rend strings yet dread too, peeps in.

songs you play are wrought from famished strips of liquid love
that my wretched soul with face upward, so wanting, laps up.



2.
oh, let me be that tree for your succour
come into me shade

oh, let me be that wave for your restlessness
come ride upon me swell

oh, let me be that light for your needing
come meld within me core

and take what you need.

(and please be mine, too)



3.
I am so in awe of you that I'm angry!

can you just come upon this landing, already?
let me lay you down, beside me . . .
this garden awaits

tomorrow never knows
of what wondrous delights we spake
mine eye seeks thee, always.

let me . . .
stroke your disheveled mind
and allow me to slow-spill into obdurate you
soft and gentle, sweet and kind
your destroyed words
to hear how swift and sudden they really are.

let us fall headlong . . .



4.
when, once every millennium
the tale doth go:
the time-eagle returns
to that diamond-mountain
so far away
to sharpen its beak
     and when, it finally wears down
     that haughty hill
then one mere second of eternity will have passed

yes, the hour-glass of eternity will run its full course.


despite time and distance
forever is a wicked charm that I must wait for . . .
and forsooth
the weight of it, I will bear.


S T, 14 May 2013