Hope under skin

What process is this?
Little daggers of ice, piercing a beating heart.
Oh mother Mary won’t you help.
Sweep away the pain and apocalypse.
Drive out the devil and chalky residue of consequence.
Time collects now, not in a bottle.
But in the carboard bowls, slightly full.
Mostly struggling.
Preparing for the collapse.
We pray it all away, but still it flows.
Coming in with the tide and with trauma.
Maybe we need holy water.
To wash.
To burn.
Stinging the sins and the scene away.
Raising our Lazarus once more.

Oasis swims

To walk the sands of time, to find the doorway to heaven.
Leaves me breathless.
You put your hands on this skin, and I succumb.
Unabated astral movements behind my eyes.
To know you from somewhere, is to feel you under my skin.
As my blood crashes down the sand dunes on the walls of my heart.
I left you, and found you there.
Waiting for me where the moon sinks.
Threatening never to return.
With honey wine still on your kiss, I will not function.
I slip into another consciousness.
Walking in a dream that quivers on god’s fingers.
Kiss me from dying, and wake me once more.
Let me disappear into your arms that comfort me.
Like a blanket against desert cold.
And I will wash these tears away in the pools of your eyes.
That offer such sweet safety swims.
To the desert floor.

Internal/central

This illuminating version.
Drifting.
Loving, only when the time is right.
When it’s uncalled for.
Who knew?
Who cared?
A scorched soul while the film played on.
And all roads led to the same.
Your heart curdled up tight.
Wearing out my mind.
Melting the plastic of the world we once inhabited.
Central now.
Gaining control of a need that was needed.
Crazy, only to know we were always driving.
Using our knees to steer.
Hoping to crash and burn.
In a beautiful all consuming fire.
So central to our survival.

Extirpate

Shivering into this new world.
Of a day broken over me like the sunshine egg yolk of realisation.
That an absence now fills this room.
A void as cold as winter, that settles into these bones.
Reborn into a version of such violence and void that my head aches into grey.
And my heart, slips away; into adjustment.
You folded us into memory.
A slight of hand that speaks with a voice of your reasoning.
Echoing now in my ears.
And my tears will turn to chalk.
While the plants die all around me.
A fate that flutters on my lips, like butterflies trapped in conservatories.
Glancing at the world around, but smashing again and again against the glass.
Yet still you toil and dig at the weeds of my entanglement.
That curled around you like a summer’s blanket.
And you sheer, and slice.
Digging hard at my roots.
Killing me a thousand times over.
Scratched, aged and wretched.
Praying I rot away and turn into time.

Subconsciously motivated to euphoria

Tell me more about this place where the flowers grow.
Darkness, you say, is but a dream spun in fractured states.
That has little place there.
These flowers, they sparkle like crystals under sunlit ponds.
Inviting us to dive for mislabeled treasure.
There was but a crack on my mind.
Nothing really, but would it matter?
If that fracture, grew worse and worse.
Not there you say, that place it heals.
Swaddling all in divine clouds of relief.
Keeping the broken pieces of the shell in place.
And the mind where it belongs.
What use of the heart then?
The heart it seems is praised.
Raised up high like a crown.
The land vibrates under soft understanding.
While love sews tapestries of tales, and memories together.
They are there too, you know they are waiting.
How could an angel not sit at the throne.
Heaven?
No, not yet. The safer place inside your soul.
Where you barely tred.
I don’t want to stain it all with coatings of yesterday.
These things will be washed away, only lessons remain.
Who can go?
All are welcome.
When can I leave?
You’ve already left.

A Dreadful something

Bridging across the expanse.
Brain before heart.
A dreadful something lurking in between.
We stumble, crawl, carry onward.
A fear in every step.
A freedom threatening.
The forest we left kept the darkness.
The sea to the north promising a drowning.
Loneliness our only company.
Hope our only guide.
Go forth and spit in the eye of Satan.
And love him for the barriers and trials.
Pray and wipe the spit away.
Keep stripping away the veils.
For the darkness and despair will not claim.
And he needs the most love, all the same.

Execution by evolution

Your ideologies hang by a tangled thread.
6,000 years of life they said.
Yet in the ground and in the tar.
Lies the truth (will out) like god’s memoir.
To bring about his own destruction.
For amber shows of life’s reduction.
And kills those narrow minded thoughts.
By adding to the six, a lot more noughts.

Happiness obligation

A truthfulness we promised ourselves to be.
Thine soul entwined.
Cracked butterfly wings of gold.
Yet the oil got their first.
But we can shake the Texas tea from our mouths.
And sore higher into the moon shaped sky.
This crowning.
A deep reverence for the promise we made.
That were whispered into our ears when we came.
Sweet words like honey into milk.
We can avoid the fault lines that threaten like an injured bird.
Dragging our horizons down.
Pull up your crown, and remember the happiness we sung.
Wrote poems and lyrics to in our heart of hearts.
Take the hand that hurts, and heal with a severed ego.
A beauty that we owe to ourselves.
An apology just for you.
A remembering of the happiness we deserve.

Lazarus

The memories had settled, like a layer of dust.
The sediment of life.
All quiet, only snow making a descent to disturb the spirit.
Time washing their feet.
Soaking it in like a golden virus.
Lining the lungs with platinum.
So easy to remain unmoved.
To close the eyes and drift away.
For the birds to lift the life out through the window.
But it was there still.
The pebble in the mind.
The needle in the side.
A notion of incomplete.
A spot of milk on the sideboard of the soul.
The eyelids flutter dustily.
The mouth parts slowly like the red sea.
A miracle come in to being, of a body that moves with hope.
Of a yearning to do, what it still does not know.
Lifting out of the dream.
To do what it was put here to do.
A completion, before it moves on.
And knows what it does not yet know.

The Smoking nun

God’s grace, bathed in divine light.
Casting gold over cracking skin and fallen vows.
The vessel inside, so empty at the beginning.
Now overflows like a cup of human kindness.
What troubles does she have at the seat of the saints?
What ails her heart that cannot be soothed?
Sweet words from Jesus must mend the wound.
She smiles at a knowing, a celestial secret.
Whispered to her in the musky wooden rooms of god.
All this is but temporal.
All pain is marginal.
Your being is relative to the consciousness you invoke.
So why does she smoke?

Heliocentric detours

A story unfolding at the speed of life.
Unplugged or imbedded.
They missed the Milky Way.
Drinking once more from a cup of stars.
Do these words seem familiar?
Rub it on your teeth.
Ugly and sweet
As they slide once more into focus.
Chewing on your past like a shark in a bathtub.
Filled to the brim with sorrow.
Eyes, that are empty.
Calling for tomorrow.
Now your moon hangs heavy in your heart.
Blue, like the subterfuge.
Shrieking past on a shooting star.
All light and brilliance.
Call it what you want, taste it like confusion.
Lifting into that lunar bloodstream.
But be sure to rinse your mouth with the irresistible.
And swallow the sublime.

Loveless collision

A little, then more.
Nothing is ever enough.
In this world, where hate is king.
He’s an angel of sadness.
Watching it all from space.
Seeing molecules and indifference collide.
What remains, what took him away.
Stained with pain and cruelty.
Reigning like unlucky stars in our eyes.
Walking it back in photonic blackness.
We only leave the ground for a minute.
To spin on the atoms.
And feast, on the junk of these hearts.
With mercury in our eyes.

Rescued by the enemy

Truth hidden in a liar.
Like drowning petals.
Pearls covered in dirt.
Beauty sunken to unfathomable depths.
Those eyes are like black ponds.
Revealing nothing, reflecting all.
Does this light shine back?
Does it tweeze anything from your hidden soul.
You have our love now trapped.
Stored away and silent.
Vanished for all the world not to see.
I know that goodness lies inside your shell.
A bravery that can rise above the fog of this war.
Yet it is impotent and quiet.
Buried in the sand of time passed.
Like those ever-elusive weapons of mass destruction.
It cannot be found.
But I know it’s there, next to your beating heart.
The sea lion awaiting the time to roar.
And break through the waves of this pain.

Came to disappear

More pain in her heart than a bomb over Japan.
She clicks her heels, but nothing happens.
More alone than home.
She darts into the traffic.
Proudly defiant, like rhinos on the Serengeti.
This was her town, but from it now she runs.
Her tears falling like skyscrapers.
Down into the rain and the black streets of London.
That tries to coil around her feet.
The slinking snake of society.
She runs out.
Down.
Then up.
Onto the lampposts until they change to trees.
And she feels the nature breathe back within.
The racing rats she leaves behind.
Throwing her phone and her tolerance into the trash as she departs.
This was never for her.
She comes now, out into the greens and browns that match her eyes.
Seeing the vista swim into view like a quiet paradise.
She comes here, to disappear.
She comes to survive.

Begin the begin

Falling freeways that collapse like thunder.
Splattering dust into my open heart.
The sun shines on.
Blanketing our eyes with dizzying despair.
That road was to the sea.
The ocean that promised such departure.
The great wide expanse that echoed home.
So we look above.
Counting trails and streaks across the sky.
Fighter jets and passengers making their escape.
Crawling, flying and fretting to other cities.
Other sights of wonder.
My mind melts into now and I collect my possessions.
All packed into one golden shell that I carry in my pocket.
It whispers your name.
It breathes your air.
Cinnamon cords that play forever on my lungs.
I crack this pumpkin sky and break on through.
The open road, a littered landscape of longing.
Making my way to you once more.
Stabling the state of mind I’m in.
Begin the begin.

Bare

My bones lay like dust in your eyes.
Is that why you cry?
Seeing such emotion stripped bare.
Chalking up your mind.
Yet this heart beats in your mouth.
An oral fixation for the truth.
Tasting every rhythm. Every pulse.
I burned all this down around me.
To smoke out the ghosts of a past.
The ones you wanted dead.
So, now lay me down.
And kiss me back to life.

Death of the heart

Through hollowed tears that paint the walls.
Cries a thought, uttered more in lament than desperation.
The lights fading.
A love abating.
The prayer for a heart on the edge of nothing.
What demons and ghosts stole it away.
Which angels plucked it from the earth.
Has god really written the last passage in its tale.
Or has the other heart deserved a second chance?
These questions lick at the mind of fate.
While others close their eyes to possibilities.
They lost the beat, the rhythm of love.
Those roots that went deep, tangled and clogged with mud.
Twisted with happenstance and rode the whispered jokes of time.
All beneath the silent wings, and bells ringing out a new era.
While eucalyptus air fills the lungs.
And we cough up the oil of yesterday.
For heaven can wait, while paradise before us blooms.

Applications become the same

This Monday morning evaporates the weekend.
A horrendous hue of change.
Your absence now in my bed, as our bodies break.
Twisting the world apart.
The world, now on show for bright eyes and coffee headaches.
Stretching out the happiness as the day rolls into grey.
For without you next to me, I find it harder to breathe.
The eye blinks of necessity struggle under the weight of it all.
I do not mean to be a burden, of self-serving theatrics.
This production creeps out of the stage you set.
For each time you go, and the curtain closes.
I’m left picking popcorn and ticket stubs off my dirty heart.
Rushing once more for the weekend, to be first in line.
This heart a needle, in your hay.

Diagnosis

All this bubbling inside my veins.
Feels like angels spitting in my brain.
A feverish swoon overtakes me now.
The silent prayer and misplaced vow.
That swirl and flick of the finger of god.
Dilutes this blood to something odd.
More like a lick from roaming devils.
Who cough and sniff, and silently revel.
This outbreak which defies prognoses.
And nudges for spiritual diagnoses.
For though my body and mind is sick.
Inside the soul this illness licks.
And leaves me now mere bread and wine.
My soul and spirit, drenched in turpentine.

Idle hands

Spider vines that creep.
Under my skin, beneath the bone.
Touching you there, where I knew you’d feel something.
Underneath where the devil plays.
Where the intent whispers like a tongue on the breeze.
My witch’s familiar licks the blood from these fingers.
Sticky and sickly sweet.
Hunting you down.
Seeking revenge and reason for you turning my head.
And throbbing my blood.
With your idle care.
Now at the whim, of my idle hands.

Hope against Hope

The blood settles, as if time holds its breath.
Cupped in a hush, frightened to flow.
The rest awaits.
A shuffle in the mind.
The attic of the body, like a restless Dorian Gray.
When the eyes reveal the true horror of the ordinary.
A Day, much like yesterday.
Comfort swallows, the needed search forever longing.
Secure and safe.
How else do we move, if not shaken from the spot.
The mountain beckons, a summit that seems never conquerable.
A defeatist voice that echoes in your ears.
Humming its way through your muscles, reversed intent.
Until a swing of the pendulum, a signal fire of age.
Of time wasted, sand spilling from your hands.
Dust in the blood.
Your time is now, it was actually then.
We enjoy the blessing every day, to start again.

Reveal

The suffering of fools.
With each new day they add their stain.
A clogging to the air that you 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 dirt and the dark 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.

Fought

What did they tell you about this future?
While the TV played on and you half listened.
This heart you mangled and molded.
These flowers died a long time ago.
Who is to blame?
Distance. Family.
Your fake departure, when your heart wasn’t in it.
Made all too easy for you.
Red letter days and disappointments. Plastic friends.
Those that melt in the heat while the kitchen burns.
Who dries your eyes now?
Lazarus lies, housewives. Shopping that ego.
Choking on the need to be right.
All those lies have now been tagged.
Selfish. Self-aware. Convenient amnesia.
All built on your version of events.
Apologies now that are forbidden.
Poisonous to the tongue.
Under rug sweeping.
These broken pieces of a person you once knew.
Only you.
As you blur once more into everybody else.

Toujours en fuite? / Still on the run

Vous souvenez-vous, quand vous étiez jeune?
Les battements de coeur dans un infini.
Une seconde sur les lèvres de Dieu.
Pouvez-vous sentir la forêt?
Es-tu fuyant?
Disparu dans les arbres.
Quelle partie d’entre vous ne dort jamais?
Pour toujours rêver dans un monde où règnent les cauchemars.
Portez votre couronne.
Asseyez-vous, et lavez-vous dans les larmes cosmiques.

/

Do you remember, when you were young?
The heartbeats in an infinity.
One second on the lips of God.
Can you smell the forest?
Are you fleeing?
Disappeared in the trees.
What part of you never sleeps?
To always dream in a world where nightmares reign.
Wear your crown.
Sit down and wash yourself in cosmic tears.