Aureole

Changes take you to the place.
The feelings, dressed in faith.
Little voices whispering your name in silent spaces.
You take me there.
Gripping my hand which shakes and flutters.
A heart, in flight like birds of paradise scratching the sky.
The only thing that fades is the darkness of the past.
The bright light I see in your eyes illuminates and deafens.
An unknown, which used to creep like ghosts, now welcomes like a field of poppies.
Oh that heady take on life, blurring into our bones.
You come to rest on marbled floors.
An altar in which I can pray.
But you lift my hands and shake your head.
Kissing me with our new commandant.
The only religion is love.
You fall into my skin, changing the air I breathe.
Needing me, as I need you.
Worked from our souls rising.
A Perfect circle.

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Le petit problème

I don’t need this, she said.
Shaking the thoughts from her head.
I need so much more.
The need to want you, is greater than before.
And the flicker, and the twitter of the voices in her skull.
Kept her moving, her heart bruising.
Keeps her soul crawling on the floor.

Short – Folkroot

The crows always gathered in the eastern part of the grounds, the ones that held the giant weeping willow trees that hung mournfully over the grey yawning ponds. The crows would roost and jabber in the trees, squawking up a storm as they watched the silent world of the estate coil around them.
Jeremiah watched them now as he sipped his tea from a chipped mug bearing the hotel’s motif on it, twin trees that sprawled out into veins along the bottom supporting a huge F and R nestled in-between. The pattern was faded on the mug, the royal purple dulled now to a weak lilac like a bloodied gum.

His tea steamed in the cold morning air, the vapour disappearing out of the cup like souls travelling up to heaven. He stood alone by the small utility shed, which itself, was hidden by a large horse chestnut tree. Though he was the groundskeeper for the hotel, Jeremiah had allowed it to grow wild, almost concealing his shed from view entirely. This was his little kingdom, his own place of refuge which he liked to keep hidden from prying eyes.

Not that many of the guests came to this area of the grounds. They were usually drawn to the large manicured lawns where they whiled away their leisurely days playing croquet, or down by the small maze that offered beauty and puzzlement. Still, he did his best to go unnoticed, a notion welcomed by the management who liked to keep the staff out of sight of the guests, yet always close by.

The crows took flight suddenly, a large sound off into the woods nearby traveling with magnitude over to where they were roosted in the bowels of the weeping willows. He watched them take flight, disappearing off into the grey sky above. Setting his now empty mug down, Jeremiah picked up the shearers that stood idly propped against the side of the door, and set off in direction of the ponds. He checked his watch, noticing it was nearly lunch time, and guessed it would take him around an hour to finish trimming the thicket by the fish pond that had exploded in growth in the last few weeks.

He was glad the crows had departed, he hated their cries and clucks that seemed to echo through the air like cries from another world. They were not the only creatures that dwelled in the grounds at FolkRoot, but they were the most annoying to him at least. He could deal with the rats and mice that found their way into the fruit cellars and the drains. They were easy to deal with. They had two cats on the property, one black one called Sabre and a ginger one called Sphinx which would roam around keeping many of the unwelcomed rodents away and the giving the more tenacious ones a new home.

Sabre was a bit of curiosity with the guests, finding his way into their rooms to surprise them in the middle of the night. They would usually find things missing the following day, small trinkets and shiny things that the magpies usually got the blame for. No-one would ever suspect a cat of spiriting things away to keep nestled under cat eyes and fur. But Jeremiah knew, and he knew where they were to be found; Sabre’s favourite hiding place. Both cats would patrol the hotel, getting into all kinds of nooks and crannies. But they would never come here, never down to the ponds. Which was probably why, he thought to himself, the crows had such domain over the trees that grew here. Weeping mournfully into the pools below, crying leafy tears perhaps to those who failed to float, and now resided at the bottom.

Jeremiah knew of these souls, the ones the crows guarded and longed to peck at. He had seen many go in over the years at the hotel, and he knew many more would join them. As he got closer to the edge of the pond, looking down into the watery waste beneath him, he twisted the wedding ring on his finger idly.

“Morning Sybil. How you doing today my love?”

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I suddenly feel it

Under the floorboards it dwelt.
Dipped in diamonds.
Hard as nails.
A love that painted the corner of my planet.
Washed over me like black rain.
You creep into my bones like golden dust.
Strengthening and sturdying my soul.
This past is left in the darken room.
You turned off the light for memories that kept me awake.
No more grave digging in the sunlight.
Stopping instead, to smell the flowers.
Picking eternal daisies in the dirt of time.
Forcing me to be x-static, extreme like violence.
You are the colour in my skin.
Awash with happiness deep within.

Falling inside nothing

He let the ghost in, and paid for the pleasure.
Allowed it to walk around his soul.
Dispensed with the hauntings of old.
And reclaimed such fresh bones to tingle.
An empty shell, nothing more.
The vast lake of indifference that stretches into tomorrow.
Freezing such sorrow.
And leaving sad footprints in the snow.
What deeds did the phantom choose?
With a body now willing, and an absent soul.
It waited.
It waited, and not in vain.
To find the will to love again.
For the empty souls are not always alone.
In the face of another, featureless and insane, haunted even the spirit.
Chained it down to cognitive reframe.
And banished the shadows from the eyes.
Tearing the absent heart, while the spectre burnt.
And melted into eternity.
Together. Alone. Deceased.

Jamais vu

Lies are what you make of it.
Icebergs that tower on such frigid sea.
Who were you anyway?
Through the haze and the snow that falls like sympathy.
Worries that sprout like the spring is sprung.
Needling a brain that heaves and shudders.
A death throw in a maternity ward.
So young was the idea of change.
Yet now it’s a fading star.
Peppering my sky that is being painted black.
And somehow you purify.
Allowing the colours to blind my soul.
Then testify, that I’m still growing old.
These colours merely blur to a hue.
And force me to ask who you are.
As you reach in, and pull my eyes free.
To save me from never being seen.

Out Now – The Gospel of No One

Just a reminder, The Gospel of No One is out now in ebook and paperback forms.

THE GOSPEL OF NO ONE

Be careful of those who open their diamond hands.
Chewing opium smoked souls and offering hearts.
These will be those closest to you.
Forgive them, we know not what we do.
Swimming in the sin of a century.
Crawling once more on the back of time.
A miseducation of things once told.
Scratched on tablets, ground down like baby teeth.
But the skies won’t fall.
And though walls grow tall we strengthen our desire.
To avoid smashing galaxies and fragile pieces of others.
Every time you try to be what they expect, the honey sting;
the disdainful look of Lucifer drops all that is tired.
We become more inspired.
And make way for the inevitable bliss.
In Zion.

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Luminous lament

She knew, she hoped, she begged it true.
But despite her efforts, away they flew.
She always thought they’d come to save her.
To take the dark and be her saviour.
A light would flicker inside her heart.
A smile would spread, then tear apart.
She never found love that ever endured.
Or took her sickness and made her cured.
From a loneliness that ate away.
A sadness that had come to stay.
Until she read deep in a book.
That she could change her fate, and all it took.
Was to love herself and believe deep down.
She was a spark from god, with her own crown.
A little flame, could burn up bright.
If she believed, she could banish the night.
And though it may seem trite and sappy.
She could not rely on others to make her happy.
And by doing this and loving her heart.
She found her soul mate, her other part.
The light now shone for all to see.
A neon blur of serenity.

Cremate

Break these bones into splinters. Snap the spine and suck the sap.
Throw the pieces on the fire. Douse it all with distain and detriment.
Do not handle me with gloves on.
Touch me deep.
Treat me like a firework, ready to burn. Burning through like phosphors.
Strike the match on my skull. Crinkle and crack such emotions within.
Burning down to my heart, sending my soul to embers.
Floating into your lungs to dwell forever within.

Fervour

Say a prayer while you sink to the ocean floor.
Young feathered boy.
Eat the darkness as the sky alights.
Filling your soul with starlight.
A transient tempted eye.
Sweet delicious girl.
Smash the edges and eat the pith of life.
You know they lied to you.
Course the universe and break the isotopes.
Wring them clear of the oil that curdles.
Washed away by a secret self.
A knowing of the realm of desire.
Candied couple stuck in the honey of the land.
Taste more than the drops of inconsequence.
Bury the bones on the moon.

E#

Play me once more, that chamber music of my soul.
Tickling your fingers on my ivory heart.
Such intimate behaviour.
No release.
Like wild roaming beasts.
Trampling through my forest.
Bear me no mind, cause me no trouble.
Such wild bird emotions you set free each time.
That you whisper my name.
That you call to my heart.
Shivering down each vertebrae.
Snap at the heels of my passion.
Feathered in the down of where I lay.
Where you leave me trembling.
Shaking in the thoughts of your behaviour.
Crying out for mother earth to swallow me again.