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.

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.

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.

Tar

Feel me on your fingertips, hear me in the silence.
Falling down like rain, washing over you; teaching you how to sustain.
As you crawled to the ledge, sucking in the view; I was there only 10 years before.
I struggle there also, throwing everything but caution to wind.
Waiting to be spirited away. Waiting for something.
You feel me stuck on you, and I revel in the same.
Our thoughts collapse into each other, the mumblings of the Siamese.
On displays for the circus crowds.
Yet I was not corralled. I bought my ticket like the rest.
Stuck in love, like the monsters in tar pits.
The tar that covers us now, bleeding deep down into our souls.
You loved me then, and fell for who I was.
Let go, know I was always capable of this let down.
Know you loved that part of me even then.
Round and round and back to the start.
Pulling the hairs from the tar that clumps off with skin.
Trying to hold each other together.
A strong drink, a kiss for forever will soothe you.
The cocktail of our love, the adhesive state of mutual dependencies.
The black glue that keeps us together, lying underneath.

Dissolve

On my fingertips, dancing like a tiger.
The tip of my tongue, growling like a beast.
Naming you, shaming you. Falling under. My fingertips now tingle.
Blood and sweat dripping down like melting galaxies.
You fold away the past, and dissolve the future.
Streaking my colours into a frantic version of now.
Washing away the grey.
This good life you prophesize, I want to know all about it.
As I swirl round and round in the delusional dream.
Floating on the falling stars while I wave goodbye to the lonely.
These cells break down and collapse. This earth shakes underneath.
A ballet of our isotopes, that merge and fall with each of your heartbeats.
I cling to you, for fear of disappearing completely.
Of wanting to be lost in you.
This sweet gigantic resolve, and chaotic dissolve of mergence.
As you love me, for me.

04:45 Tomorrow

Though the dawn sings out a new chorus, I cling to the night.
It is in the dark we dwell now, secure in our insecurities.
A post-blue anesthesia.
Slipping down from the dopamine shell.
The tiniest crack, the smallest splinter.
Down to the floor where we freeze like winter.
The swan song of our lifetime, yet only 26.
Clickety click.
I dug my own grave with you last night. You did the same, yet watched me do the heavy lifting.
The look away and the tiniest frown, makes me feel incapacitated.
Resting on a gravestone, stroking a soul.
Licking words that you toss my way, crunching on the crumble of forgiveness.
We build the tomb, and plant the seed.
Blacked eyed beans and coffee kernels, salty tears that stain.
Who is she anyway to you?
I go home as the night slips into dawn, erasing the loneliness and feelings of terror.
Come seek me where I dwell, scrap off the shells and dying roots.
Tell me you love me, and mean it. Please believe it.
Sinking into tomorrow, today.

Stellar insight

The world opens up before us, the moon shines down like a second sun.
Highlighting the earth. I sense you, and smell the enthusiasm.
Every day is mine to win, each interaction a snapshot in time.
It’s not how we fall, but how we stand that matters.
The heart of the matter. The rub, the centre; the deep filled gooey splatter of time.
Stretching away like a blurring desert.
I step stone towards the unknown, letting go of my uncertainty.
Restriction dropping, heart opening foolishness of youth and wisdom.
I pull you out of the cave, bring you into the light. Dazzled by your brilliance, and mesmerised by sight.
Too long have we lingered on the dark side of the moon.
Come, take my hand and let us drink in the solar flares.
Get high on the mercury rising and dance into the fire, singing our song.

Diamond

This blanket of diamonds that covers our skin.
Emerged when you looked into my eyes.
Your eyes, that sparkle and shine like precious stones.
With a cool knowing of prophecies.
Whispering words like treasure from your velvet mouth.
Talking of love and completeness.
And I have no concept of love, other than that it’s you.

Your universe threatens to devour

My dreams ignite like a Chagall construction.
You and I, flying over roof tops. Exploding in colour.
I lay you down and crawl into your skin.
Kissing you intimately, feeling my way.
Though your body entices and your heart entraps, it is your soul I’m after.
The bruised, damaged fraying thing that I wish to breathe life into.
It runs from me like a feather on the breeze, escaping like a Bharatanatyam movement.
Colours and light, burning my sad lonely grey into nothing.
Love on your fingertips, sticky from the centre of me.
Though this may be transitory, I give in and go under.
Falling for you again, disappearing in your wonder and the perfumed smoke of you.
Coughing up clouds of devotion, and descending like the setting sun.