Ping

Nowhere girl image

 

Cold cold sea

ocean deep: five

fathoms down

 

fibre optic pings

shush shush sound

of voices.

 

You make me smile

after winter’s deep

encroaching darkness

 

piece by piece almost

destroyed me.

 

You make me smile

more than other’s do

a tilted cheek

 

jock like banter:

 

distance is good

interest, I don’t

engage

 

as if ,

sea protects me

as if

 

I’m bound sound

in moving

breathing cradle.

 

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Omen

 

 

The Blackthorn’s white

against the lane

 

& lightning strikes

the schoolhouse oak:

 

a dead crow’s feathers

blight my field

 

harbingers of death

as Princes leave

 

while full moon glowers

through empty tree.

 

‘’April is the

cruellest month’’

 

where hope dissolves

on sleet torn glass

 

& you & I

are cast aside

 

as wild winds whip

our story.

 

 (Listen here)

Nicholas

 

Deep in the night

quark like

 

memory trembles,

 

down the road

I did not take

 

I was locked

in that rose garden.

 

You, shining, amplified,

a giant behind my man

 

your mind a flare of

greatness.

 

You spun century

& tribe, gave voice

 

to hopeful monsters.

 

There you sit, stuck:

& here I stand

 

time reverses every

known law;

 

but love remains

through scars

 

we bore,

 

our tussle

of difference

 

mind to mind.

 

High on Majorcan

hillside, scramble

 

over crumbling wall,

you strode your truth

 

not mine.

 

Now only love remains,

a silver thread of light

 

to guide us through

our next story.

 

(Listen here )

 

 

Demystify

 

 

The dead don’t change

they follow us in dreams

 

demanding the same

satisfaction.

 

You, so long gone

you seem to me,

 

a dream:

 

& yet I conjure crystal clear

an image of your young self,

 

I used to miss you

but now I find you

 

ridiculous.

 

It’s taken long years

to buffer your blows

 

never anything solid

that stuck.

 

You were born on a breeze

lived high in azure sky

 

disappeared into a

morning mist

 

leaving us

with nothing.

 

(Listen here)

Light

 

It’s the light, the light

the morning light

 

on dew torn field,

 

it glimmers in the dust

makes waves across the path

 

like omnipresence of

an unknown God.

 

This time of year

when earth’s threadbare

 

I gather all my diamonds

wash them in this morning light;

 

still grateful for the play

of rainbow on my wall,

 

the singing in my heart

 

connects me to

the annals of the past

 

the day we met:

 

sunlight in a park

you all pink & bright

 

on a light filled luminescent

day like this.

 

(Listen here)