Solstice Morning Cornwall

 

I watched a crow caw with all its might

silhouetted against the blue, blue sky

a burst of sun shone upon its sudden flying wing

 

 

 

 

 

Waving

In a tragi-comedy of errors I mistook the finale for a renaissance 

not realising you were drowning, – on land, home in bed, hours later

Now another couple, who managed to stay alive, are on the bus in Scotland
a trip to the distillery I hear them say, to drink whiskey

Ours was a last chance saloon, something to tether us both to a sense of hope, but the desperation of poets cannot wait until a next season, until a visa, until a train service resumes, and now your wanderings have become a disappearance

Your mother beats her head, throwing milk against the doorways, chattering at the jinns in the red tent that has hovered for decades now

and we all wait to see your name flying in that sky

resurge

I lie awake in the night because

1.  I remember

            the embraces

and

 

2.  I consider the unfolding

            the making sense of it

an axe swing

                and how

how                         did                     it                      come

                                            to be

                            from lover to executioner

And I lie awake in the night because

3.  the night remembers

4.  the doors open to stars

5.  and black flames

        burning

the diamonds becoming

       from the ash

And I lie awake in the night because

6.  I am alive

birthed again

Remember

and reach

                                        out

to the miraculous world

for the world lies awake in the night

7.  listening to your breath

and every rise, and every fall

of divine rhythm

a humming

                mantra

                        of seed to light

of death to light

 

 

 

 

 

 

Gateways

 I held a cloth over my mouth

a strip of colour before me, an entrance to the new world

of smoke                                screens

the shape of everything was distorted

my own body

craving rest I talked to noone

and in that silence I listened

found there was no silence

and my eyes burned from information

Above is the blue sky, today, but what tomorrow

and what is above the sky

please let it be wondrous, untouched

 

 

 

 

Paris Encore

The pregnant woman on the metro, teenage desire marker penned onto the plastic walls, a scar tracking time, the man, the eyes, fullness of space 

Emerging to dancehall in the underground. Architecture overground. A city of protest alive with music and laughter. Police like black scarabs of dark arts. A city lit 

Vivid 

Life 

The erotic potential, the civilised calm, the gentile, the glamour, the men devouring food pissing in the streets 

I want you to take me. Your mouth, your body pressed against mine, your hands shaping my silhouette, thrusting, urging, deep 

I will turn up wearing the red shoes and we will not say anything. Just push our bodies together and talk that way until the afternoon light 

Kupka gazed at the source and kept telling its tale. A brilliant flame that kept burning 

As soon as I walked into the entrance of Le Jardin des Plantes I felt tranquility. The breath of the trees, the songs of the birds and everywhere was green and plentiful. My being slowed down and I enjoyed each and every step as I explored the exquisite gardens. I had wanted his kiss but not at the price of the day. His kiss in the furthest regions and folds of the sky, the meteorites the stars 

Alto laugh 

You were the light at dawn. You were the bird song 

Perhaps I was woken by that aubade by a nameless formless lover. It is his body that comes to me. It is his fingers that trace my history and drinks of me in the morning light and in the evening 

Bad boys and four girls 

That will be you you will become the image dancing through the streets of Paris forever

The Grand Ballet

In the dead of dead

in the night of night

there, you are, in front of yourself

in the mirror of your destiny

counting the years like receipts

in the accounting book of time

in the destiny of destiny

in the time of time

nothing matters

for all is played out then absorbed

each sharp pivot becoming soft memory

but only if there is someone to remember

In remembering the destiny you recover the night

your fingertips playing time across keys of illumination

you, the living memory of the dead, an onward step

here, now, after the give away

after each and every purge

after sickness became liberation

in the end you let go even hope

and smile with naked acceptance

 

 

 

 

make/believe

What if the children were the gods

among us all the time

as we fenced them in and limited their



shining gods that stumble

see the loving mother showing him how to eat

like a bird with her



young we played those childhood games

but we saw other worlds

some of us didn't



return to truth can a heart harden

calcified from pain

shrunk



in tiredness I believe the night has answers

but I rarely dwell in her blue

for dreams pull me and not just dreams



sometimes, perhaps one day, we will feel again

in renewed innocence

the god within our memory