Archive for the ‘2015’ Category

The Gardener

June 16, 2015
A gift was dropped in my heart,
Hardly discernible, it was so tiny,
I stumbled through days,
Happy in beauty,
Taking my time,
I studied flowers one minute,
Marveled at clouds the next,
Rapt in the pleasures life brings,
Naught but an inkling,
It pushed from within,
’til cracks did appear,
Light seeped in,
And all the pleasure,
Of worldly things,
Became a dark dream,
So I rallied my defences,
Stretched my imagination,
To the bounds of the extreme.
I created stories in my mind,
Of what should have been,
And on the cracks,
I poured salvation,
Wine by the bottle,
To slow their advance,
As darkness descended,
It was too little, too late.
But still I fought on,
Against these dastardly cracks,
I feared for my life,
All seemed lost,
I had to concede,
So I lashed out in anger,
At this insidious undoing,
But the strangest thing happened,
As I lay in apathy,
Not wanting to die,
Yet no will to live either,
Light filtered out,
And touched every fibre,
While I watched in wonder,
How could this be?
Attention turned inward,
I examined my heart,
So damaged (I imagined),
But I found no cracks,
And where I’d imagined holes,
Shining windows,
Offering peace and solace,
In each a reflection,
A patient semblance,
With a gentle smile,
And bright shining eyes,
Holding aloft,
In strong calloused hands,
The darkest of my fears,
The loudest of my doubts,
And all my perceived misdeeds,
A face full of love,
Tending the weeds.
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Erotic discourse

May 5, 2015

I’m alive in a sensual world,
Where no thought can survive,
You’ll learn nothing from me,
In the words that I speak,
Instead taste the air that I breathe,
Savour my intention,
The erotic sensation,
Of gentle fingertips,
Writing a fateful script,
Rather than some crude finger-pointing reiteration,
Of eloquent words repeating dead ideals,
From some dead author’s crypt,
The only answers I’m interested in,
Are those imprinted on your questioning lips.

The heart of creation lies in darkness

May 5, 2015

Open hearted
in a sensual world,
Where cuts and bruises
cause no pain,
Rather a sacred recognition:
In grief there is liberation,
A torrent of colour,

As a creature of feeling,
Not thought,
Is it madness
to sit in darkness
with a smile on my face?

Have you contemplated the notion:
It’s not light that connects us,
That when your pulse races,
And your chest feels both tight and swollen,
It could be love,
Or fear,
Only if you care to name it,

In the absence of both,
What would your racing heart tell you?
Pay attention,

Can you face destruction?
Because somewhere we mistook
immortality for permanence,

The stars know this,

Do they burn merely to bring light,
In a world of mirrors and reflection,
Or because there is no creation
without destruction?

And if there’s truth in this,
how can you be different from a star,
a raging fire,
If they’re the source of all you are?

Shhhhh

April 29, 2015

The quiet is deep
Bottomless
A well of silence
That speaks to me

Of trees
And howling gales
Whispers to injustice
Shouts out beauty

A gossamer cocoon
In a world I’ve spun
Suspended from stars
That grind away in terrible magnificence

Feeding me lines
Which I scrawl in black ink
Filling space with darkness
A silken shroud for my quiet place

Those who sit still enough can see
The words are a void
Mere blank spaces

Those who know can see
I’m in the silence
And it’s there that they meet me

The analyst’s dilemma

April 27, 2015

What strength lies in sensitivity
That can bestow courage
When in darkness I forage
For ease and simplicity

With a heart set on beauty
Yet swept by this deluge
Should I seek a bridge
Or wade through vulnerability

Perhaps seek solace in today’s detail
And quiet contemplation
It’s a soft tissue to expectation

A veil for the heartful
Separating us from ghostly validation
A loving shroud

Slow

April 13, 2015

Goosebump fresh
Softly lit
No gentle crunch underfoot

Not yet

Shining still
Silver drop jewels
Against a cascade of red

And slow

A gentle season
Scented like peppermint
A silent crescendo
Washing over skin tight with excitement
A raised brow

My favourite hour
Before a perfect close
The curtain falling
On last year’s show

Conspirator sky

April 7, 2015

Droplets on a window pane
Blurred lives
All a reflection
A heaviness and lightness
Both shining and grey
Revealing colour
As though every dull moment
Was designed for this alone
Stark contrast
To singular beauty
The whole world conspiring
In it’s dull tears
And clouded skies

Moonlit liaison

April 2, 2015

Held by the moon
Her watery touch
Cleansing of longing
Finger light on my skin
Youthful beauty not betrayed
By my own ageless desire
A loveless contract
Dusted with tenderness
Yet embracing mortality
With a loving quality
Weightless
A fearless fluidity
That was the joy of humanity

Dis-illusionry

January 11, 2015

Caught in that place,
Knowing everything you fill,
Can be filled by anyone,
Disbelief suspended,
By the true worthlessness of existence,
As everything you would have fulfilled,
Is an illusion only you can dispel

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