Wednesday, 29 January 2014

Reminder

 Reminder

Words shake themselves free of his lips,
quips slip, so easily rip
the fabric of an empty space
into two, through, goo of my loo
of a mind, a sewer full of waste,
unwanted unloved, a hand ungloved
a broken plate, a river in spate
a mind unglued, unscrewed, and, lost
in the dust under the bed, red, “read” he said, “like a book. Look, see?”
Me!
I remember with glee!
...momentarily…
momentarily free.


His words flee.


And me?  
Me?
I just drink endless cups of tea
- and wine, a sign, time
to forget, reset.

Friday, 24 January 2014

The River of Solitude

The River of Solitude

I lean my body into the gentle current of solitude,
peace is so easily disrupted.
a carp may rest deep in the river
alone with the drift,
watching people like flies dancing up above.
Enticing wing-beat words,
dreams stir in their humming.
 Limbs akimbo opening, an ask
and closing, promising ,
then tucked up out of sight, hidden.
Too busy,
my still-self alone in the depths,
getting fat for all the resting.
Resting to find the power
to meet the wind of human belief
even a breeze may wake
a silent current beneath.

Friday, 17 January 2014

Afternoon leads to Winter

Afternoon,
bursts with Summer
Surrounded by the invincible fists of an impossible and incomplete passion.
No love strolled beside us or rose up within us except in a dream.
The bubbles in the wine swam like bright birds in a blue sea of sky  
you rolled in me like an olive on a salted tongue.
A short walk, past rivers
with streams and islands that would never entertain winter,
at least until winter came.
But fire! Oh yes!
The trees burned like tigers eyes, circling prey
orange and dancing
instinctive limbs scorched and reaching.
Rivulets of flaming word licked our bodies
passing between us in silent gesture
whetting our skin with longing. 
stars spanned distantly behind swathes of blue
dew fell in happy welcome.
The rains did come, eventually on feral winds
a whirl of weather leapt through the wood
on paws of Autumn’s loss
then Winter’s stealthy silent arrival
howling frost into dark days.

Thursday, 9 January 2014

The Courtisan and the Prospect

The Courtisan and the Prospect

she lived in an apartment
quite apart from any other
gold whorled every edge
velvet festooned each frame
the mirror had spines
an oaken halo of reflection
he brought his gold to her
he brought his silver
threw rough diamonds at her feet
drawn from the earth herself that afternoon
like fat potatoes full of prayers
or a man you could trust.
one by one he gifted pearls
and she strung them into a necklace
they drifted around her throat
the essence of a just remembered dream
night shone in his wit
like a star or a gulp of the finest moonshine
the only gold he found
was in a whisky bottle
the only silver, was his tongue
and the pearls
lay between them,
the wisdom,
or foolishness
of love.

(written in 5 minutes)

 
(Giovanni Boldini’s portrait of Marthe de Florian)


 

Sunday, 29 December 2013

Dreaming

Dreaming

last night there you were,
in my dreams, oh my God!
you were whining and whinging
banging on thin spirit doors
mine
with words of love, lust
and longing
you followed me through markets,
dreams in themselves, those words were
dreamt and full of dreaming,
following me.
I went into shops selling curry, falafel,
and star-filled crystals,
bearded sellers, pedlars, oracles and bakers
they all pushed me towards you,
(asking; what was I thinking shutting you out? Would I like to buy croissant? pistache?chocolat?)
and still, outside the shops and lurking with intent
there you were, cajoling
haranging
begging…

I,
so involved in the repetition of no,
noticed I had forgotten how it first began.
No, no, no
rose again and again,
just like a head might walk steadily away
loosing itself in a crowd.

Sunday, 15 December 2013

The Dark Hiding

The Dark Hiding

You took me to the place where the blind lead the blind
and told me, quietly, I would find God in these tendril fingers
weeping their tender way round mine
God in each tearful fingertip
Eyes avoiding eyes, avoiding eyes
Yet searching and seeking eternal
to find the edge of a cheek
the soft suffering silence of a mouth
Words breathe through, words unseen,
unheard and shifting as an evening shadow,
might sigh in haunting bliss.

In amongst the many we are two.
We are like the forest bleak and darkening
howling shivers between our boughs
as our moon rises into a gale.
Inventing the wood, we get lost,
shuffle forwards hand in hand
God in-between the creases of our skin
nestling within.

Saturday, 23 November 2013

Kiss

Kiss

Like a sob it wept out of my throat
A kiss, so full of feeling,
rose from the depths of me.
Charged with beautiful grief,
like the ninth life of a cat
might teeter on a high ledge,
or turn into another day to love in