Stars come out (to light our way)

Don’t take this from us.
As the heart hovers and throbs.
An unending passion that is born in the slightest smile.
And the most agonising cry.
Your words caved in as the world collapsed.
Ushering happiness and banishing the ghosts.
What worlds do we hope to die?
Which ruins threaten to drag us down?
You meet me on the dock, that inches out into space.
Into time, dappled in joy and the yet to become.
Like a swirling candied apple planet in our hands.
And we dip our feet into stars.
Watching it all from above.
This sudden shudder and retract.
Of a past that wishes to bury itself.
In a book so eager to close.
The whisper in my ear as, the night fades, is you.
Promising me tomorrow.
As dawn washes into my eyes.

Paper crowns

Metal hearts and paper crowns.
I anoint you in the night.
Deep when the blackness washes the walls.
That’s when no one can see.
No eyes to validate or void your divine right.
Over me.
Under my benediction which tiptoes into your skull.
Preciousness weighs on our fingers now.
Consequence hangs in our soul.
And as the yokey morn cracks over your eyes.
It may all disappear into the dream.
And buried by the burdens of the day.
I shall lay, to be haunted and spent.
Your prince, left in a pauper’s grave.

Impression of normalcy

Strained and untested.
(You’re not the only one)
Friday night and frantic.
Planned to get arrested.

They’ll pick up pieces of you in the morning.
Who flew your sanity out of here?
Drunk without a warning.
Stabs at conversations so unclear.

Saints be praised such holiness.
Washes over these tired feet.
Picked apart then slowly undressed.
This divine and damaged piece of meat.

Yet I am not here for touching.
I am not here for loving.
The stains wash out in the headache of tomorrow.
And my heart yearns only for yesterday.

Delayed doxology


DELAYED DOXOLOGY

The pain turned to gold as the moon rose.
The loss of self-control and the shedding of time.
Dropped like leaves over a diamond lake of soul.
Always late, but now just on time.
Peeling away a skin that once bound.
A body so rooted in the now.
To each side there sits an angel.
Close enough to touch.
Calling me higher, yet I remain.
Being good, being whole, being of service.
The dark begins to melt into light.
The kiss of god, and the whisper of the divine.
Reaffirms my mind, that it all was meant to be.
Now I shudder in doxology.
Praise not just the creator for the air in my lungs.
But the lungs of god, which breathes new air.
I have lost my religion.
And found god where I least expected.
Hidden away, yet smiling at my fall.
Knowing the rise was good for all.

MORE VIDEO ART HERE


 

Solitude sometimes completes

Quiet is the night that falls into me.
Spreading the inky blackness all over my soul.
God smears it on my eyes.
The devil breathes it into my lungs.
Dark replaces lonely.
And as the moon crescents and pierces the void.
I stumble quickly into a knowing.
Dropping fear like shrouds of revelations.
Collapsing into a nothingness bliss.
Swimming in solitude.