Based on the poem ‘Escape‘, click the image below for the video artwork.
Amethyst eyes which mock the stars.
Shining beyond a world of beauty.
Slowly I slip inside those bars.
A prison to love’s call of duty.
Poem – I miss my ocean
It came with no warning at all.
As I stood in place, hoping it would evaporate.
But down to the marrow it went, like a hungry ghost.
Feeding on my sadness.
As i watched you disappear.
Wishful thinking, I was already dead.
For nobody finds hope in tears that run red.
You stain my sky with your understanding.
Tipping me towards earth.
You allow me to walk in your grasses barefoot.
Smelling the flowers of change.
Dizzied by the fragrance your smile offers.
Forgetting there’s broken glass hidden in the rushes.
And that i’m allergic to mother earth.
Modern life is a funny thing. Our lives are filled with have tos and get tos, stuffing the sock of the day full to bursting with needless tasks which we justify as most crucial…..
Read the rest over at the journal
So, after some toil and effort, I have another home. Another place where these metaphoric bones can lay. Come with me, down the rabbit hole…..
How the love filled my heart.
Yet a size too small.
Breaking at the seams and spilling blood on the white couch.
Yet eternally it took me.
Like Moses to the mountain.
As I watched you fix your smile.
Nervously looking at the ceiling as you spoke.
Being anything but me, anything but myself.
Wanting the world to fade, so I could be alone with you.
Just you. Swollen in a sea of scared beliefs.
And dreams that came true.
Fade to blue.
Collapsing the before into the now of the never.
As you choke the love out of me and let me breathe.
Letting you in.
As we begin.
Hanging pictures of our love, for the world to see.
And pay admission to leave.
Through this darkness, you felt you way.
Fingers in decay, while you groped for something.
I told you, you knew it then.
I would be waiting.
As the moon rolled away like the end of a film.
And the sadness reeled you in.
You held your breath and counted the silence.
Little drops like chips in teeth.
Tiny shifts, the tectonic plates deciding.
I hovered above.
My eyes light like a dove in its pirouetting flight.
I stripped your mind like a Christmas tree in January.
Shed. Cold. Naked.
Placing candles in skulls to light your way.
The bodies of your old self, at use after all.
We swim out of the concrete, and into the sky.
Minds now alive and deliberating.
Of which wing to fly upon.
Which sky to pull down and cover us.
To disappear here.
Lies, they kept her from heaven.
A raging ghost of self contempt.
And in the dark, all can see her tears.
Slipping into the cracks of hell.
The suffering of fools, with each day they add their stain.
A clogging of air that you need to breathe.
Beneath the end, that’s where they’ll find you.
So strong and complete. Underneath.
You want it all so badly, this revelation to tomorrow.
To be remembered and loved for the skeleton inside.
As you bathe in a bath of bleach.
And rinse your soul with turpentine.
Uproot the dark and the dirt that keeps you hidden.
That keeps you displayed for a world of passer-by’s.
This great reveal, behind the curtain.
Under the skin.
Is the world you live in.
Though the day was cold, the hearts were warm.
Burning like a desert isle.
Gold teeth chattered, catching the light and chewing on well-worn stories.
They plundered the past like pirates.
Each memory a jewel.
Each story a fable.
Colour struck you in the face as the reds and yellows paraded the town.
And as they lowered the body down.
An empty coffin. The flesh had fled hours before.
The soul only lingered out of curiosity.
Enamoured by the tulip dance on the telephone wires.
A shuffling then of souls still breathing
Their own bones twitched to jazz beats and sweet treats.
The partying departure for a man long since dead.
What covering could convey how they felt?
A cotton candied coat to keep him warm in death.
The tiny pebbles they had collected, each one dipped in honey.
Sheltering the coffin in rocks and shells.
No one spoke of goodbyes.
No one’s eyes released a cry.
As the stars above collapsed into fireworks.
And they dyed the sky.
I’ve been collaborating for a while now with fellow artists and friend NARA15BLOG (her name while remain a mystery to all but know her dearly.)
We have created ‘Mooncats’, which is a collection of poems that we have both contributed to and enjoyed creating. I would like to draw your attention to this collection here, and also to her own blog which includes an assault on the senses through, art, writing and wonder:
Please check out our collaborations and her site, bookmark it and forever be captivated by it’s deliciousness. Enjoy, and watch out for more Mooncats fleeing the lunar surface in the future.
Underneath where the soul lingers.
Scrapes away all hurt and pain.
A version of me you will remember.
For underneath you are the same.
Through this dusty world, like peeking through a cloud.
I caught you in that position.
One to wear with no remorse.
As if I could.
You fill up my pockets.
You scratch at my soul.
A lovelorn, well-worn hand of care.
That fits me like a glove.
Unstitch the fabric and pull at the thread.
Dismantled then reassemble my love like a puzzle.
Cut the corners, and round the edges.
Make them fit.
I feel it licking at my chest from the insides.
Coursing through me like a river of lava.
Deep boulders of love shift within.
Where there was once just water and fire.
Now sings and eternal stream of desire.
We shake off these brown leaves of entanglements.
Lift those gravitied heads towards the swollen sky and puff out that chest.
The one that beats with a billion heartbeats.
We strip away the coupling and unity of two souls bound together.
Yet we then drift like ghosts, transparent and vacant like an empty space;
waiting to be filled.
Decorated with art and passion.
A wash with the colour of intimacy and rouge.
We are all boned striped rooms, inviting others to come in and rearranged.
To hang those crooked pictures.
Sift through our drawers.
Silently succumbed to the tragic necessity of you.
They did not see, our crucifixion wasn’t televised.
The day you broke down, and held my hand.
Swimming in chalk, dusting it off our clothes.
Feeling so low and desperate.
The soft surrender of hopelessness.
But we did not die, we did not fade into white.
A burst of control and all the things they’ll never know.
Our resurrection, in colour and flesh and bone.
Just a matter of time now until they paint our picture.
Hang it on the wall where the wolves devour other hearts.
Stronger, from here on out.
Though I should really pick a release date, the ambiguousness of ‘Coming soon’ still rings appropriate for the forthcoming book. More information can be found here, however, any feedback on cover preferences would be most welcome: Please let me know in the comments section which you prefer:
Thoughts, suggestions or anything else is welcomed. Thank you.