#iminlovewithyouian
"when the night is a splash of a bucket dropped in a well"
i found you in the summer
and the light clung to your hair,
when i realised i was a slave to your eyes
for all time i could hardly stand,
those eyes that coaxed the earth to flower
and fed the fire of love.
sometimes when we are still i hear
the night tide in your heart.
sometimes i am so full of love
for you i can hardly bear to live.
the morning swallows you in her bright
colours and the night wraps you in
the pale arpeggios of time,
i wrap you in love, pillow the silence,
undulate like drifting sand,
flow through the clear water
like a leaf tracing the pathways of the wind,
soften like fruit that has fallen to
the ground in an orchard
and then return to you,
you, my poet of the water.
Feb 10
Feb 10, 2026 at 4:00 PM UTC
so alone
with my scurrying bones
so alive
with my verve and drive
winter flowers
and high-noon showers
light and dark
the matches spark
find a wall
for a freezing bird
sing a song
with a happy word
blue pond shallows
old wheel barrows
bows and arrows
hedgerow sparrow
song for a song
short or long
start to long
for the wild wind’s song.
Jan 25
Jan 25, 2026 at 3:02 PM UTC
honey-drawn sun
sinks in pulsing flames
sunlight sky-woven
in winter’s muted lanes.
january pathways
patched in tatooed light….
leaves long forgotten
frozen in torn ice.
pine needles stirring
landscape white and stark
wind like a nettle
sense of closing dark.
close the ice-rose of winter
close the spellbound sea….
picture in my pocket
dream of you and me.
Jan 8
Jan 8, 2026 at 12:26 PM UTC
"where love is the petal of a rose"
i wondered where death took life and
life took death. life threw itself into
the daylight forgot the petticoats of the day
and her ambers burnt to the greys of the sun.
i couldn't melt before her or she before me
but she ran and i loved to run with her.
death was life without the ghosts of sorrow
and life was death in its impenetrable dreams,
i was swallowed up by the arrival of summer and
i died at her feet, i died
and i lived, i fell and i stood up and life was a
thirst to survive and death was the blue ghost
and the oblivious rose. death was something
i would know tomorrow and life something i
could feel today, not sorry and not sad,
not empty or harnessed, free in its freedoms
open hearted, rain-scented. i opened my eyes
to the stars and fell at their feet,
i opened my eyes and the poetry flew
away like a sky-hungry bird.
Sep 21, 2025
Sep 21, 2025 at 11:25 AM UTC
when the waves of the sea sang of summer,
wan midnights and flowers beguiled
by a love strong and tender in slumber,
awakening tumultuous and wild;
oh, love, sweetest love, won’t you listen
to the song that the fierce sea sang,
while the desolate waves seemed to glisten
and silver bells rang.
oh, my love, oh, my love, hear the fire
of the love that has blossomed for you,
a song full of want and desire,
and all of its dreams about you,
the wind fires up through the mountains,
the clouds fill the desolate sky,
the waters of earth fill the fountains
and all the seas sigh.
and i never felt love for another
as strong or as passionate as for you,
and my legs longed for yours like a lover,
and forever they’d stay ever true,
up high in the night sky the birds fly
and plunder the sorceress moon,
and love in her waves gives a sweet sigh
and falls in a swoon.
the solitary sea starts to whisper,
with a love that n’er knows of a god,
and the mist on the sea-wall grows crisper
as it dampens the ghosts of the sod,
and love cries out loudly at sunrise
toes dipped in the trembling dew,
forgetting the murmurs of moonrise
besotted and blue.
the wind now no longer seeks shelter,
curves the clouds who now run and then run,
sings of tides full of moonlight who welter
with tears (though no gift of the sun,)
and these tears for my love i now carry
stripped away like the sun and the rain,
our love both soulful and arbitrary,
flowing true in the vein.
the flowers of midnight are calling
like lilies with petals outspread,
on an ocean that dreams as it’s falling,
and falls like an anchor of lead,
the streams lift up high as if dreaming,
the wings of the wind’s edges bleed,
and all of their wonderful streaming
begins to recede.
the sun sung out once to the morning,
unshackled the wings of the seas
who flew as the light started dawning,
as the sea water started to unfreeze,
day more of the morning soon conjured
of magics both dreadful and free
of tenderness’s sweetly outnumbered
like your love for me.
the brightening bird grows to an ocean,
its brilliant wings full of day,
and our hearts sing out loud with emotion,
the clouds float along in their greys,
the light in the sky starts to shiver,
no longer of evening and night,
sings songs of the moon’s lonely river
her lamps set alight.
Sep 15, 2025
Sep 15, 2025 at 3:07 PM UTC
the light flutters like ribbons,
the light gold leaf and flickering
amber, the light tenuous in her
gentleness, slumbering with her whims
and her sleep of blue earth, and air,
breath of joy, breath of dust.
night holds us and her daydreams are
a forgotten song, and night is like
the streams of water that awaken with
summer and her cool rivers of air, night with
her paradise far from the gathering
of limb and ledge, far from the leaves
of the dusk where the shadows tremble and the
water turns itself into tears, and we hear the
ghosts cry to the pretty sky,
sometimes we hear the ghosts cry.
May 3, 2025
May 3, 2025 at 3:11 PM UTC
i thought i understood the water,
the silver whispers of stream,
dying the way sadness sighs
like a star.
the water didn't bring me to
you or you to me.
you were not the shimmer of a
fish.
you were the light reflecting,
bold splashes of colour
on a bold canvas. you
were night when i could
hardly bear the night and you
fell through me
like twilight bringing black
marble moons and watery ghosts.
i thought i understood the water.
i thought the stars painted your
reflection on my lips,
but the silver whispers were not
sad they were happy and
i wondered how i ever
found them sad.
Mar 1, 2025
Mar 1, 2025 at 2:23 PM UTC
loving you is like waiting for the spring,
the love that winds around my fingers
a stream that will fill with the most beautiful light.
when you open your eyes to my kisses,
i fill with the summer and the bright stars,
so chill with loneliness, leave.
i forget that the moon hangs like a
silver leaf in a sky of swallow's song,
while the rose that winter stole,
that died in my lovelorn arms,
left like the impressionist the water loved,
until all i could see was the dreams
of the water, and all i could feel was
the sleeping of the dark.
Feb 22, 2025
Feb 22, 2025 at 3:14 PM UTC
summer casts her spell
man cuts reeds for thatch
swallows under eaves.
Nov 16, 2024
Nov 16, 2024 at 1:51 PM UTC
a bird slid into the wind's
bright paths, awoke
the sound of morning, the
only elegant sound. i sprinkled you
you with the roots of the rain and
with a song sweetened by
sunlight and although you were stunted
and your blue-blossom wings were broken,
and the very earth swam in dark
floods of tears, that little piece of
love was a kingdom as reachable
as your hand touching mine.
Nov 13, 2024
Nov 13, 2024 at 2:52 PM UTC
my love, you wear silence like a coat
and i am left drifting like a far-out wave.
the wind tangles leaf and sky.
winter is barely noticed, the moon
is a ghost of forgotten flowers where
the night sings to the starry waters,
sings of our love. everything is sailing
like a ship in a bottle, a kaleidoscope
of brightness, gothic hill and wildflower
ruin, flowing like a silvery stream.
do you dream of me? do you burn when
the night wraps you in her cloak and the moon
unwinds the waters of the seas?
do you dream of me?
Nov 9, 2024
Nov 9, 2024 at 2:31 PM UTC
the moon, shrunken, faint
as pencil, as if the wild nettles
of night carried her loads.
her glazes the raptures of
dancing stars.
her stencil mark a white crescent
leant on cloud.
the trees shudder in the
wind, break their promises,
forgive no one.
the tide listens to her rhythms,
traps them in water, distils
her victories, unwraps the dark,
stretches it out.
Oct 12, 2024
Oct 12, 2024 at 10:41 AM UTC
"where love is a wave that splashes on the sand"
when a heart
loves
the stars surrender
to the heavens,
the moon catches her breath
and the avenues
of silence become
voice. i follow the
path to my love,
i die for him,
i live for him,
like a spartan
in the heat of battle,
like a flower in the
mist.
Oct 9, 2024
Oct 9, 2024 at 12:49 PM UTC
i've not written for a week.
i need to visualize, feed
on an image, grow out of
immense distance, slumber
on the rocks.
i need to paint a flower
in all its frailty, gather
the skies on the horizon.
until the bright lilies
have drowned me in their
white linens i will not feel whole.
gathering, gathering the world,
its moments stormy rooks.
Oct 5, 2024
Oct 5, 2024 at 12:43 PM UTC
"when everything is washed out like faded jeans"
i thought i could stay alive
but there were shadows on my bones,
summer fell through my lips
and washed the colours from my shirt.
i became a lizard in the
dry heat.
the sky layered greys into
clouds, told me how
expressive it could be
and then turned white.
i wasn't going to argue
but i liked it better blue!
when your heart is
full of softness it gathers
the flowers of dusk.
the sea is so far from me
now, how can i remember
a wave or the bluster of
the wind?
i am as forgetful of
shape as foam, i am
as broken as driftwood,
i am the memory of
something that never was,
an impromptu impressionist
painting in ink.
Oct 3, 2024
Oct 3, 2024 at 10:59 AM UTC
[you were]
"where love is a song settling in the night"
you were the softness of feathers
and the harsh cadence of grief,
you were the sky’s frail mists
and its glittering pools.
in the warm indigos of summer
i welcomed you home,
the sea with its engine pistons
played loud harmonics,
it wasn't the noise but quiet
i wanted most, the way i wanted you,
star silent, drifting like a boat.
[tonight]
tonight i can't write poetry,
a star is just a star.
[shadows on my bones]
"when everything is washed out like faded jeans"
i thought i could stay alive
but there were shadows on my bones,
summer fell through my lips
and washed the colours from my shirt.
i became a lizard in the
dry heat.
the sky layered greys into
clouds, told me how
expressive it could be
and then turned white.
i wasn't going to argue
but i liked it better blue!
when your heart is
full of softness it gathers
the flowers of dusk.
the sea is so far from me
now, how can i remember
a wave or the bluster of
the wind?
i am as forgetful of
shape as foam, i am
as broken as driftwood,
i am the memory of
something that never was,
an impromptu impressionist
painting in ink.
[i've not written]
i've not written for a week.
i need to visualize, feed
on an image, grow out of
immense distance, slumber
on the rocks.
i need to paint a flower
in all its frailty, gather
the skies on the horizon.
until the bright lilies
have drowned me in their
white linens i will not feel whole.
gathering, gathering the world,
its moments stormy rooks.
[love poem]
"where love is a wave that splashes on the sand"
when a heart
loves
the stars surrender
to the heavens,
the moon catches her breath
and the avenues
of silence become
voice. i follow the
path to my love,
i die for him,
i live for him,
like a spartan
in the heat of battle,
like a flower in the
mist.
[summer tide]
the moon, shrunken, faint
as pencil, as if the wild nettles
of night carried her loads.
her glazes the raptures of
dancing stars.
her stencil mark a white crescent
leant on cloud.
the trees shudder in the
wind, break their promises,
forgive no one.
the tide listens to her rhythms,
traps them in water, distils
her victories, unwraps the dark,
stretches it out.
[out of the night]
out of the night, the softening rain dripping
from leaves and memories hanging like stars
in a northern sky, everything sank to the sea,
sinking in night and song and silence.
everywhere was still, no climbing to the dawn,
no old ghost singing winter to the sky.
it was time to leave, time for the grey ghosts
to crumble, time for the rose beds to sleep.
the morning dew is the water's flowers,
the early frost is the marbling of the earth,
we're pushed to emptiness by the iron-hinged wind,
melt in caves where the shadows lie hid.
from your hair, the glistening drops of rain,
from the air, the flight of a bird,
terrible and black the dark clouds,
where the night utters vowels its voice full of stones,
and its breath an empty pail once filled
with water and the kiss of the moon.
[grey stone sky]
grey stone sky, ghost clouds crying to the wind,
remembering the distant wave.
the moon was the whitening mists of time,
was the quiver of a musical note,
her broad branches silver seas,
her caverns quiet visions of light.
i stride the shores of oblivion where
dark ages hide, where the ocean falls,
i capture infinite moons in my
mouth, capture something bright,
something of you that i bless,
something of you that grows out
of the dark, glimmering like a night frost,
midnight stars dipped in a clear lake
and as the surface gleams and reflects,
how the water ripples in little blue tides.
[i ask you]
i ask you how the water cries, how you hold
the tide, the light, the thin light glistening.
i ask you how you bury root and earth,
how you dress the wind, how you carry
clouds in your mouth, how you drift
out of morning's ghosts, sky full,
how you drift downstream taking
part of me with you. i ask and i ask.
why do you not answer me? tomorrow
stretches her wings, tomorrow with her
tremendous oceans of fire, her dark eyes
full of hope while part of me dies.
no furnace could burn like you burn,
every whisper the dark, the infinite dark,
and that little flame hovering like a bird
a paradise higher than stars.
[the ocean dreams]
the ocean dreams...
colours like burnt kisses,
the blue mist tangles the air.
the shore shook out its creases
like old linen, fell under
the tumbling wave.
i drank the silence,
walking where the moon,
carried along by the song
of a ripple, dipped
her feet in the foam,
dancing, dancing...
beneath her ivory tongue,
a glistening jewel,
her alabaster skin
night's whitest rose,
and where the stars
wrapped december in
ghosts and the
gleaming water was the
quietest echo of love,
i could no longer bear
to be alone, and my tears
were the wilderness
and how it grew inside me,
and everything i loved was there
the wave carrying the wind
and i felt alive, as joyful
as the silver shore, a dark-pooled
painting of you, a river-eyed song.
[sad, sad eyes]
winter fed us with blood-red berries and ice clouds,
our visible breath soon colder than our lips.
i did not want to see what you had seen,
could not grow out of those sad, sad eyes.
we fell into the calm wave of circumstance
and twilight hurried from us into the dark.
hurried away like the last drop of sunlight
purples the earth, dancing on the edge of the world.
do we wait, stone-heavy, for the last tendrils
of day to melt like ice?
the fearful cold breathes like a fog,
gathers its stars of voice and hill,
gathers memories and distant dreams,
lets us forget.
are you the ghost that lies on the hill
calling to me?
are you that ghost,
whose irons soften like cloud,
whose frozen leaf trembles on the branch
waiting to fall to the whispering land?
your eyes are from the past and yet
they follow like a cold wind blasts.
your eyes, everywhere your sad eyes,
biting like a frost.
[do you dream of me?]
my love, you wear silence like a coat
and i am left drifting like a far-out wave.
the wind tangles leaf and sky.
winter is barely noticed, the moon
is a ghost of forgotten flowers where
the night sings to the starry waters,
sings of our love. everything is sailing
like a ship in a bottle, a kaleidoscope
of brightness, gothic hill and wildflower
ruin, flowing like a silvery stream.
do you dream of me? do you burn when
the night wraps you in her cloak and the moon
unwinds the waters of the seas?
do you dream of me?
[morning]
a bird slid into the wind's
bright paths, awoke
the sound of morning, the
only elegant sound. i sprinkled you
you with the roots of the rain and
with a song sweetened by
sunlight and although you were stunted
and your blue-blossom wings were broken,
and the very earth swam in dark
floods of tears, that little piece of
love was a kingdom as reachable
as your hand touching mine.
[song]
this was a song that lingers in caverns and
caves, scented by sea rose and anemone,
lost kingdoms where we dream of the sea.
this was a song like a whale shivering
through the water, diving into the
impossible dark, with its huge tail
waving, flag-like and star-hungry,
its skin the moon's lips, in a world
with no moonlight, no brightening pools,
and only echoes of a forgotten sun.
how deep do we dive, seals of ink
and overtures of unanswerable
dark? our eyes have been betrayed
many times and the water buries us
whole, takes us to the staccato rhythms
of a ghostly tide, takes us back to
a womb woman whose prayers lie
like whispers on the water, who tells
us to hush and we hear our mother's voice.
these are wild notes that press into the
waves, and i am frightened of this song,
it is dissonant and gathered from the
rivers of night, her tombs overgrown with
wild flowers and the bones of the sea,
and she cries for the lost,
for those that were taken from her,
and she will cry for all eternity
and her tears are like breath of ice.
[winter]
winter buries her flames,
buries whispers of river and leaf,
the sea wraps turquoise into bronze,
everything is full of white bones,
the sky is an illusion of clouds,
her petticoats blue rags,
the day is as heavy as a paperweight,
as brittle as a glass flower,
the light is as naked as the trees
gold could not be more cold,
the sunlight reflects in the snow,
her amber eyes gleam,
nothing flows, nothing flowers,
nothing flows, nothing flowers,
and your smile is the sun,
a ghost as faint as watercolour,
the brush dipped in daylight,
a little part of me.
[waiting]
i stood there waiting like a
nettle with the moon's forget-me-not
eyes, wild flowers overflowing
down the little paths, i was the flower that
no one wanted, a black companion
****
my cherry mouth was built of
forgotten orchards and swallow's wings,
while my hair was blown by the indigo wind,
the moon tap, tap, tapping on the door.
the whiteness of the land, the colours of
winter and how her song arose out of
the dark, bearing my soul like the
earth rediscovered, glistening in the
light, drawn out of hollows, the shadows
driven back, with a dry root's crazy thirst
that left me longing for rain.
the poetry could not quite free itself
from my lips, dragged me down to
the earth where i staggered with
the lost and the weary. i tried to get back,
but all I could do was sink into the frozen waste.
no, the poetry would not free itself, and
still I waited but it didn't seem to matter
now because leaf and moon and the
frosting that covered my body had left
me like a pale ghost in the wilderness
and all I wanted to do was sink into
the cold cornered night, sink and forget.
[moonflower]
out of the water, the water of ghost pools,
you rose, naked figurehead, oh, flower of night.
an impressionist's brush shook the water
like light reflected on moonstone.
****** of prisms, flowering, flowering,
lost ocean of star voices, forgotten star.
you sang and the night ran towards the sea,
you blossomed and the night became a wanderer.
nectar of the gods, sky-visionary, you sink into
the night like the petal of a rose, the grass almond-
eyed and whispering to you her dreams, fluttering
like a butterfly; little moonflower, you gather
the shadows and the song of the dark, the
drift of the clouds is your bare feet running,
the drift of the clouds, the cold sea crashing
in the harbour, the drift of the clouds,
the incredible overflowing of sky, poet-
ink and straying hair, the drift of
the clouds, everything that scatters
like you on the wind.
[we seek...]
we seek the ocean in the palm of our hands,
breath is the frailties of a winter sky,
the stars are reflections in a mirror of bone.
we are carried by the wind into strange avenues
where we fall like leaves, dance into the indigos
of the washed out sky, haunt the dimming light like night
blossoms and dies, her rivers burning like fire.
we awaken in the eastern
sky washing slumber from our eyes, yawning
and day drops her heavy nets into the waters
of the sun and drowns out the voice of the dark.
flowers settle in the morning, capturing
the silence of the hills in petals of water and light,
and we drink passion and ink, we drink the colours
of our emotions and walk without hesitation towards the light.
[song of the wind]
the wind has something of your wild song,
whispers in a voice i knew long ago.
there is nothing here accept the empty wind,
nothing of you and me,
i could paint the silence with the moon,
kiss your mouth, touch your hair....
but we are forgotten like this song
of the wind, and in the emptiness
i can hear the faltering wave
fall against the belly of the sand
running like the white clouds
race through the sky,
where the stars fall like old ruins,
this ghost dance of stars, these crashing,
crashing waves. where is the freedom
of the falling water?
not in the breath of the earth,
not in the silvering of the sea.
[you are neither]
my love, you are neither the morning
with her bright unwinding hills
or the night, with her nets of silver stars,
you are not the sea whispering.
you are hidden from the world, an alpine
rose that nobody sees.
you flower like the sky makes its way
out of the dark, her archipelagos
thrown to the wind, there to discover
like a frost that whitens the earth and
leaves its footprints in the leaves.
you are neither the moon, my love,
that waits at your feet
nor the sun that burns like the
summer with her mute fire. you
are none of these things and yet all
these things carry me to you,
like a drifting cloud longing
for the waters of the night.
[those brief moments of heaven]
the land was a slumbering bird that had not yet opened
its eyes. the morning roared like a thunder
cloud and i gazed at the sky with her cornflower blues
and orchestral flutes, her dark bones whitening
in the yellow-threaded light. silence wrapped me like
a shawl, and love settled on my shoulders like
a bird. it was too early for the swallow to return
with its spring-tinted wings, the winter settled
in the nooks and crannies of the earth, sweet
as your mouth, crisp and cold as the ashen north.
and while you lay beside me, warm, nocturnal
and dreaming of the sea, i kissed your lips
and told you to hush, not because you had spoken but
because night had been so gentle to you that i
wanted to keep you wrapped in her star-scented arms.
[silence]
silence moored like a boat in the harbour,
and you flew against the horizon like a bird
until my mouth was the night with its hungry stars
and you were the sea wind.
you were the night flowering, a ripple on
the surface of the water, the dreams of the ocean...
your eyes told me that history is made of a
a thousand bleeding wounds, your lips that
kisses are petals falling from a rose
and that we wait like old moons for night
to melt on the shore and set us free, we wait,
unquestionably free, for her gathering of
iris and blue bird, for her beautiful
and melancholy song.
[february]
the light, the faint curtain that draws across day,
far from night's shadows, creature of fire,
revolves, drops white nets into the sea-earth,
where ice and the aching frost cry out
and the soil hardens with its harsh, freezing edge.
we are deaf and blind, numb of limb
like the thin trees and the specter-sky,
blue and forlorn, dreaming our winter dreams...
and through the cold walls i can hardly draw
a smile, sad as a silver leaf the autumn forgot.
it is you who lifts me from the ground, somehow,
like an april shoot seeking the sun, somehow,
my bones as frail as a bird and yet
when the air stirs my blood and i stare into
the amber notes of the wind, the unforgiving land
buckles and breaks and i return to the
kernel of your heart and even the icy
lakes and the weighty forest you loved
under your skin that the light waits to
warm, forget their cold death, breathe
like summer returning to a distant shore.
[empty of light]
there is nothing of you in this late hour,
i have no voice to wrap you in tenderness,
and i wait for your arrival like a starless sky,
empty of light, the ocean's forgetful voyage,
the sinking wave coaxed to grow out of the dark.
the trees are motionless, branches fall silent in the night,
like ghosts against the sky. i am empty of light,
drawn out of memories and blue air,
a crystal that breaks, bound to the wide earth
and the white dust of immeasurable hills. i think i am
still, small as a bird, and i know that i long for you,
that the hunger never leaves me for long, colouring
dry paper with the gleam of a harbour-like moon.
[you grew]
you grew out of the tangling black,
those carefree tides that lead to the moon.
the stars i thought were silver knots
would not unwind, danced on the horizon,
softened like the white mist that gathered
the sky and the dark rose of your eyes.
you filled with the quiet of the hills
and i watched as your ghost
started to tell me goodbye, that
ghost whose seas were frozen in the night,
the ghost i loved, and everything that
was fire in me carved the words into
the night's magnolia net and the words
were; " i don't want you to go".
[loving you...where love is a pretty handwritten page]
loving you is like waiting for the spring,
the love that winds around my fingers
a stream that will fill with the most beautiful light.
when you open your eyes to my kisses,
i fill with the summer and the bright stars,
so chill with loneliness, leave.
i forget that the moon hangs like a
silver leaf in a sky of swallow's song,
while the rose that winter stole,
that died in my lovelorn arms,
left like the impressionist the water loved,
until all i could see was the dreams
of the water, and all i could feel was
the sleeping of the dark.
[winter faded]
winter faded like old parchment, drawn in charcoal
the trees waited for the inevitable colours of spring.
your voice coloured silence and left me standing
away from the crowd with my head inclined to yours,
listening to you, the shadows swept away and your
voice like the moonlight, the blue inks of the sea.
i watched you unwind night skies and the night stars
that burnt in the rivery realms of lost ruins and whispering
dreams, fell like dead men before your passion and there
was no reasoning with what you believed and you had
no compassion for the world. hatred fired up before
my forgiveness and you could not forgive. how many
oceans scattered their flowers and light, how many
armies fell before the burning amber of your eyes?
[i thought i understood the water]
i thought i understood the water,
the silver whispers of stream,
dying the way sadness sighs
like a star.
the water didn't bring me to
you or you to me.
you were not the shimmer of a
fish.
you were the light reflecting,
bold splashes of colour
on a bold canvas. you
were night when i could
hardly bear the night and you
fell through me
like twilight bringing black
marble moons and watery ghosts.
i thought i understood the water.
i thought the stars painted your
reflection on my lips,
but the silver whispers were not
sad they were happy and
i wondered how i ever
found them sad.
[where]
where every poem starts
and every ends,
where we are stunned,
where we are thirsty and the thirst is
never quenched,
where there is something that breaks
and i can't bring back although it
burns me to dust, love was not our
miracle but the dying was, the flames
never quenched like the blues of the stars
little rivers,
don't bring me fire to bury me in flame,
bring me oceans of black ink to colour
the night, bring me your love.
[sometimes]
distant, moon curves, star light,
dark as the turning where innumerable
waves follow on the tide, the light
in ribbons, the light gold leaf and
flickering amber, the light tenuous
and gentleness, slumbering with her whims
and her sleep of blue earth, and air,
breath of joy, breath of dust.
Night, holds us and her whispers are
a forgotten song, and night is like
the streams of water that awaken with
winter and her cool rivers of air. Night with
her paradise far from the gathering
of limb and ledge, far from the leaves
of the dusk where the shadows tremble and the
water turns itself into tears, and we hear the
ghosts cry to the dark sky,
sometimes we hear the ghosts cry.
[there is nothing]
"where love is the turning tide..."
it was if i was hanging upside
down, and my eyes softened
against shadows of sky and earth.
there is a paradise that waits in
the spring blossom and the bright
lights of the trees, in the freedom
of water and the soon to open eyes of a
winter girl who wakes with the morning.
there is nothing of you in the frail
notes of a song bird or in the deep
reaches of sea and the sky-asking's of the sun.
there is nothing of you and yet i
want there to be, i want the emotions and
i want sorrowful skies and rivers of blue ink,
seas of summer, careless nights,
freedom that sweeps away the old
cobwebs and weeps to the stars
and you, i want you wrapped through
the night like a blue lily.
[sleep]
sleep was the only sanctuary, was a
flower on the water, was the moonlit
ripples as night gathered her stars and her
promises, her indigos and golds.
i wasn't sure where the images would
take me, i could not surrender to them,
or they to me, my soul wrapped memories
into clouds, drifted with them and the
sadness that was the poetry today was
a song with so many myriads of water.
the water that filled with longing,
the water that poured into love.
Oh, the dark
oh, the dark falls down empty
her cloth burning gold like a harvest moon.
you conquer and you fall because
the poetry dreamt for you because
the last tear drop is not a river it
is a tide, and you were drunk with love
and love for poetry. oh, watch how the
darkness falls, how it swallows star
and shadow how it melts and colours the
night with topaz.
i could not die for you or for love, but
i knew what it is to burn,
the dry heat, the unbelievable
fire that burns for words and for you,
the unbelievable fire.
i would burn
a blue star like an ocean breeze
scatters the night as we lay spellbound,
tiny drops of water falling, falling.
you were passionate and i loved
all the longing in your voice, the poetry
broken like the winter, full
of strange beauty. if we were to drown
your lips would be my ghost and i
would long for you until summer was eternity
and the dust of her irons sprinkled on the water.
if i was to live, it could only be with you,
forgotten i would bury my head like autumn
leaves dust the forest, but remembered i
would burn, all gold and blanched gaunt
like a lily, a river winding through the past
like the thames folds around london,
yes, i would burn as you burn for me.
[early summer]
this year i will love the summer, this year i will bring
flowers and watch bluebells melt in your eyes, mourn that they
are nearly gone. the meadows are overgrown and
the hawthorn's ghostly blossom starts to die, dies of love.
you are a vacuum and you are a full jar, you are infinite.
i would press the sky against your lips and the clouds
would dance in the white ghost wilderness,
the clouds that lie like hills around a blue lake.
birds sing, aching for the sky, throwing their song against
the green leaves that flicker with polished light until the trees
catch the notes and the wind in their leaves answers rushing
like a sea that falls. oh, summer, summer, i think
you will break our hearts. you are the drowning of love
like a boat lost at sea, you are inspiration, the poetry
that flies like a sorrowful bird, you are tranquil when
i need to feel peace, when i need poetry like
an incredible star full of night and pools of gold,
when i need poetry to run from me like a river,
when the summer leans her head against the
blue stars and conjures our dreams.
summer gave you her stars
"where the light kisses the blank screen of the sky"
summer gave you her stars and her fortresses,
her gasp of water running from a fountain,
her light textures and open arms.
your eyes were grey in the rain, their blue
storms echoes of my heart, as cloudy
as the sky, the colour changing so quickly
i couldn't keep up. there were flames in
your hair and your voice was streaming light
through a window, strung out with the soft music
of the sun. You were deeper than the night
and her flowers slept around your feet like
ripples of water, ghosts slumbered in the dark
and everything was still. bird of dawn,
fluttering in the spiraling ebbs of air,
its wide ocean and frail hands.
bird of dusk, wondering like the romeo
of twilight, leaf of darkness, stone shadow,
desolation of time.
i cry like the wind to be apart,
i cry like the ocean storms the
cliffs and the driftwood carries
the seas blue airs to the wide
summer of the sand.
Jun 17, 2015
Jun 17, 2015 at 4:23 PM UTC
"where love is a song settling in the night"
you were the softness of feathers
and the harsh cadence of grief,
you were the sky’s frail mists
and its glittering pools.
in the warm indigos of summer
i welcomed you home,
the sea with its engine pistons
played loud harmonics,
it wasn't the noise but quiet
i wanted most, the way i wanted you,
star silent, drifting like a boat.
Sep 29, 2024
Sep 29, 2024 at 1:47 PM UTC
sweet bird of budding april's pretty wing,
sat in the willow where the catkins grow,
enchanting like the river's winding flow,
small chatterbox that always loves to sing,
the blossoms kiss the sky whose wandering
finds vast crusades where fleeting warriors go,
true to their loves e'en in the bleakest snow,
or some princess who finds a sapphire ring.
enchanted lands, the bird sings in the tree,
so long forgotten once found near and far,
where streams wind yonder where the bluebirds play,
on honey branches by the windswept sea,
as if they whispered underneath a star
of princely gold the beauty of the day.
Apr 3, 2024
Apr 3, 2024 at 2:34 PM UTC
clouds of pink on the cherry sigh,
sweet, whispering flowers fall and fall,
they lie upon the mossy wall,
clouds falling from a pink-sea sky,
flowers of the wind, confetti, rice,
papery stream like a pressed dry rose,
blossom song, the tireless breezes blow,
bewitching bower of cherry-flower ice.
a stream of melancholy green,
dances through the shades of the trees
the pink blooms sweep the river's breeze,
dry on stones, cherry-petal scenes....
Mar 28, 2024
Mar 28, 2024 at 10:52 AM UTC
none of the head angels liked looking
after the flowers. there was never enough
water in heaven for them.
then ian dream remembered:
go under the meadow
over the wave
you will arrive at station 4
press the blue button
and the flowers will automatically
be watered.
tea the angel rushed to try it out.
he pressed the blue button
and the springs for the flowers flowed.
the flowers in heaven started singing
with happiness and it was so beautiful
everyone cried.
Dec 17, 2023
Dec 17, 2023 at 10:01 AM UTC
the river overflows down to the sea,
a wintry song to tame the reveled night,
and born of love the stars blaze ever bright,
with soft-ringed beams that sigh like poetry.
dark woven hour, how you inspire me,
the midnight gleams with pools of paean light,
the drowsy moon is shining filmy-white,
the woodlands shrink and dream of sanctuary.
arise on arching wings, oh, song once sung,
oh, water sprite, oh, lily of the vale,
you pine for love, the forest weaves a spell,
unearthly voice of honey throat and tongue
i hear you whisper, sing your wild, wild tale,
then bid the world goodbye and sweet farewell.
Dec 13, 2023
Dec 13, 2023 at 3:32 PM UTC
i stare to sea where autumn's night-winds tease
and sea waves crash and run with all their fire,
i feel a sense of rest that doesn't tire,
caught up in sea-rose reds and heady breeze
and like the fiery waves and sea-blown trees
this love of flames that once burnt with desire
now nothing seems, all fallen though once higher
than love's sweet dream that waking quickly flees!
oh, love's sweet dream! the metronome-like waves
beat like a pulse, a love of moon and tide,
the whispered song has faded, bitter-sweet
and drowsy as the water near my feet,
magnolia now blooms near these old graves
and i no longer yearn to be his bride.
Nov 22, 2023
Nov 22, 2023 at 4:08 PM UTC
the hidden staircase fascinated me,
the wooden steps, oak panels on the wall,
behind an unexpected door you couldn’t see,
a narrow entrance in the spacious hall.
who ever would have thought to find it here,
a masterpiece of silent secrecy,
whose trepidation full of pounding fear
climbed up those stairs in frightened urgency?
while candles drip hot wax from chandeliers
they gallop in the night, the carriage wheel
leaves furrows in the mud, whose trembling ears
await the sweeping toll-bells heavy peel?
and as the night drifts ever closer in,
who bolts the windows, deafens out the din?
Oct 31, 2023
Oct 31, 2023 at 3:47 PM UTC
boy, i give you a blowing rose,
a glittering star,
the autumn shakes and glides,
hangs on leaves, waters the
sun,
the stars tremor in the water,
breathe of sky and silver bird,
the night is a closed eye, a
river of frost,
where the dark, born
of root and winding dream,
stretches like a flower,
in our love we found a
leafy woodland lane,
we strided the skies like
birds of dream,
love hung from our lips,
the white ribs of the breeze
holding our burning hearts,
love so raw it flowered,
opening out like an origami
swan,
the shadows lengthen,
dissolve into wooden gate
and hollowed out tree.
Oct 9, 2023
Oct 9, 2023 at 3:33 PM UTC
the night’s stones weigh
heavy like the cloud -
everything sinks.
the cry of a bird -
eerie like a ghost -
the night speaks
of autumn, of windows
now shuttered to the
stars, of leaves painted
silver and gold.
a cat wires his claws to the
dark, drops down from a wall,
lands with his fur full of sky.
Oct 5, 2023
Oct 5, 2023 at 2:54 PM UTC