Ex

The past returns to blind me

the trip trip trip of time

 

sees me through.

 

I have no eyes to heal me

& the light diffused through trauma tree

 

lays heavy on the branch

of might have been.

 

You glory in your bat cave

laughing at the debris

 

strewn across the years.

 

The blind lead the blind

too easily:

 

back into the recess

of our bad dream.

 

But something’s set me free

slowly slowly slowly  see

 

I slough the skin of memory

to discover I am free.

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Light

 

Light plays

on the surface of the leaves

glances off your hair

follows me in dreams.

 

August turns

waves its hand  to summer smiles

a circle of goodbyes

pledges we will keep

 

following love.

 

You turn

sadness in your eye

a tremor in your smile

as if to ask me why.

 

Rain comes

battling through the night

I turn to touch your side

but you’re not there.

 

Light plays

another day another year

how they have flown from me

leaving me right here

 

listening to the breeze

whisper love songs..

 

Retrospective

Light burns deadpan sky, yesterday’s sun evaporates.

 

Bells sing always for someone; you lie there almost dead

face sculpted from pain. Returning : but I have no flowers.

 

I dream of sea worlds, saliva, messages. Today holds no hostages.

 

Every moment perfect to itself,  we exist in the shadows of memory

along a corridor of recognition.

 

I am full of you, empty of you. When you leave I return to myself

 

a stranger .

We are Samurai ……

 

Returning to the same place,

hands across an ocean. Eyes across a sky

so wide galaxies hide there.

 

We are Samurai.

 

You linger on the edge of nowhere

hungry for something, I have no mouth

to feed you.

 

Returning to the same place

we miss each other, we pass

so close we can almost touch.

 

Forgetting for minutes:

the Gods laugh at us.

 

Here, kites fly in an unfeeling sky

and a starving people leave

flowers on my doorstep.

 

Frangipani, pale linen gilded

purple with the sweet smell

of love.

 

What use are Samurai in heaven?

Last bee

August pinks chime

in winnowing wind

corn dust shimmers

 

as last bees forage.

 

I’ve rushed through

summer: never looking

back

 

always reaching for

something.

 

August palette links

Monet to stardust;

nature bursts with

 

fullness;

 

I glide with eyes

wide open to the ‘’now’’

of ‘’it ‘’…….

 

forget to blink in case

I wake to autumn’s frosty

face

 

one hazy morning.

Late summer

 

 

Sun dapples leaves

soft light::  I’m straining towards

a white out.

 

Living mirages of sea

where you bob an 8 knot

wind.

 

Are you thinking more of me?

Out there between placid sand

& whale’s tail………

 

(The other side of midnight beckons.)

 

Here there is no light

only the halo of the trees

pretends to it.

 

I’m shrinking in the lack:

while all around fruit falls

for autumn.

 

Here is golden:

waiting for a sign

of harvest pledge

 

a bright promise that

next year will bring

more together.

 

Sea spittle

( from All @ Sea 2014 to buy click here )

 

Sunshine glints through

sea spittle weed floats

like dead girl’s hair

between two buoys

coastguard stutters into life.

 

Oil tanker and ferry wait

for no man, sea undulates

its curves like the patterns

in my brain I want to call you up

ask you how you’ve been

 

but death leaves no voicemail

only disconnection & the line

whines an end..

 

Sunshine over sea spittle

weed like strands of dead girl’s hair

through the two buoys yachts

jitter for a slice of wind

& the seagulls hover fight for litter

 

raucous voices tint an offshore wind.