Stolen sky

Watching high from miles above.
A silent watcher, like a mourning dove.
Sees the world bend and sway.
As he cranks the moon to life each day.
And so he watches as the world turns over.
In dusty pools, while supernovas.
Crash and burn his aching heart.
For a world he loves, he sees torn apart.
Which leads him down into despair.
While comets and stars alight the air.
And move on in time with disregard.
Of his moment here, or collapsing heart.

Elevated point of view

In those eyes, there came a knowing.
A glance and fall, like a candle blowing.
Within that heart I felt a tear.
A wounded bird, tumbling mid-air.
And though tears cannot blur from view.
The rushing ground or distance from you.
I feel a heaven in my heart.
A glowing love struggles to depart.
So I close my eyes and hold my breath.
Into your eyes, I meet my death.

Removed (post luna blue)

She lived up there, where no-one went.
A sparkled silent sky just for her.
And her dreams and diamonds, all well spent.
As she walked through her world in a blur.
For it was on the moon her soul resided.
In lunar craters she crept and hided.
Watching the world from the safely of space.
Removed and distant, from the human race.
And her heart was safe and full of silence.
As the solar winds blew through her soul.
She forgot the tether from us through her highness.
And all the destruction and collapse down below.

Dig

Guilt smeared like oil.
Staining and rearranging
Puncturing the lungs and mind.
It dissolved my heart that day to watch you cry.
Disappearing in sulphurous tears, staining your soul.
Crumbling our strong walls like chalk.
Like cheap bone.
Dig.
Touching you, like waking a dream.
The hummingbird in my eyes.
The chaos theory on my fingertips.
Fragile and strong like a butterfly.
It all fades to black, the soil covers my words.
Dig.
Ashes to ashes. Wrong to right.
Strung up in that expected departure.
Floating down to the caves below.
Descending in my ascent to accept.
The quietening of me.
Dig.
In a few years from now.
A million heartbeats from here.
Dig.
Through the oil and coal of time.
Passed petrified carnivores and wounded lovers.
To find my bones.
Bleached and mangled, the marrow eaten away.
A Skeleton soul for you to embrace.
East to west, my heart lolled into your direction.
Preserved in time.
Reviving the relic of me.

Splinter in the soul

We too think we are owed something.
Predisposed to hope and to challenge fate.
Satellites that sweep and coat our hearts with stardust.
Yet life proves us wrong.
Finding only that cycles are cruel.
And others are fundamentally selfish, devoid of right and wrong.
On my heart, are but scars.
Cracks and grooves dug deeper over time.
Trenches of pain valleying, in memories.
As this body craves for a survival, in a world that shuts it out.
And a mind that crashes to understand.
How far we have come.
Whilst the eyes of god close.
And the age dissolves into the past.

Theatre for god

A vantage point appears.
Sweet retrograded development.
The circle of a life, returning to where it came.
Return to shed some skin.
Dispose a sin that was trapped like a bird in a cage.
These lungs are full of alpine air.
Yet the breath is that of god.
With eyes that shine with a light of a creator.
Marvelling at his own work.
To motion an intent, is to peel back the curtain.
To slip inside the mind, is to speak another truth.
Barefoot and broken, weathered and open.
The state does not matter, for the audience can no longer see.
All this is for God, and sweet mother earth.
Rumbling in a third act that threatens a resolve.
But let us speak not of happy endings or peace.
The story is still unwritten. And the parts have yet to be filled.
What is known of the end, is that it starts a new beginning.
For we live to hear the sound of god’s applause.

Interstellar insights

The world opens, the moon shines down like a second sun.
Highlighting the scars of 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 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.
Freezing in the ill commitment to abstain.
Come, take my hand and let us drink in the solar flares. Turn the moon to gold.
Get high on the mercury rising and dance into the fire, singing our solar song.

Ruin

Blaze the craze which rips through the world.
Such times to be alive.
Born from the birds which fly south for winter.
Pecking at the moon.
Which idea is now spun from younger lips?
For children withhold such commitment.
We welcome you to the future.
Putting your ear to the soil to hear the earth murmur.
A wailing in the wind and the wild.
A sorrow swimming in the sea.
Yesterday holds up such devastation.
Sugar coat that history, and open up forever.
Cough out lies across your coffee cups.
But listen to no one.
Wipe the heathens across the walls.
A boy, a girl caught in such crossfire.
Scrub those bloody hands, that crimson mark.
Fading from red to orange.
Another one. Another one, another one.
Falls.
As the world turns and burns.
Points of no return, distant in the mirror now.

Saint

You carried this heart, when it was aching and poor.
Dead to a world, that didn’t fit anymore.
Through rivers and dark, through pain and the trees.
You coated with love, and sucked out the diseases.
Now the day becomes night, and cold creeps on in.
Yet you keep me so warm, and you block out the sin.
And though tired yourself, you keep the fire burning.
As my eyes start to close, and the world keeps on turning.
Where there is horror, there is also a twinkling light.
In the image of you, that feels holy and right.
So we turn to you when, the need is the most.
When all that we feel, is the touch of a ghost.
Though sacred you are, I can reach through the soul.
And cover my eyes, in the divine to become whole.
Where once there was an empty space in this life.
You’re now nailed to my love, that cuts deep like a knife.
For you do not covert and keep for your own.
This love and redemption that lies in the unknown.
As I’ve seen you wash away all my fears.
In your kisses and whispers, and your golden light tears.

Cataclysm and collapse

Dipped in honey and gold, the future is sold.
Shimmering in the moon which tumbles to the earth.
Spread this skin out, count each cell.
Pick out the cancer and the coughing of indignity.
The devil licks at the wounds.
As angels weep sticky red tears.
I tremble in my state of knowing.
Feelings escape like weighted balloons.
Tomorrow stubs them with its cigarette days.
Covering us all in ash and despondency.
Where did the light go that shattered.
Who stole the hope that I hidden out of reach.
These day, this time; when all is lost and circles like a fish in pond.
Around nothing but the headache same as yesterday.
The truth is not stale, yet seems so familiar.
And time has run out, and so the world burns.
As I look into the eyes of change, I know now they are dead.
I know now, so are we.
A wreck in that pond where the fish swims in circles.
Collapsed and afraid.

Monolith

The coldness we took for indifference.
Or the rising arctic waters.
That strangled scream or misplaced regret.
In our dead vast emotional forest.
Snow covered and silent.
Epic, only in the place of such failure.
The cool touch and horror sprung elation.
In vibrating closer towards the unknown.
Touch me once and shiver.
Lick the emptiness that withers.
The monolith planted now inside our souls.
A place no-one goes.

(Though it’s dead I cannot see, the monolith in front of me)

What if it were all an illusion?
This repeated loop and monumental oak.
What knowledge hoots and chimes in its branches?
What reasoning is tucked away in its roots?
Though the city hums and breathes a static.
This monolith covers all in shadow.
Waiting to be lifted again.
By such fragile divine fingers from above.

Turbulent cosmic swells

Caught and spun, little one.
With moon dust charcoal delirium.
Pulled down, in gravity’s smile.
Replaced with apathetic juveniles.
Scream out, and shut down.
They still laugh, at the tears of a clown.
For you it rains, transitional pain.
A disappearing all over again.
But what if you survived it?
And what if you changed.
What if your revived it?
Cosmically rearranged.
Skywards hopeful, shooting free.
In sweet delicious open lunacy.
Fragile youth fades in the blink of earth’s eyes.
But your stars remain, in your own private sky.

Odium in the skin

That wind howling.
Striking the tear that sits on a cheek.
Like a queen on a throne, wishing to abdicate.
The flood rising.
Dampening a thought in the dock of the mind.
Waving from the higher ground.
Chisel your hatred into our bones.
Fill our teeth with words peppered in distaste.
Swallow and sink the weight of history.
The flames rising.
Catching little tinder boxes placed in fire trapped hearts.
Wanting the world to burn, like hungry moths.
The earth sighing.
Cracking from the inside out as it shoots through space.
Fading into time, like your lies and disgrace.

Precious tempo in hesitation

A prick to the fingers, bleeds a sigh.
Such evacuation of robust memories.
The red smeared over lips so fragile, that a moth would imprint its life.
With such delicate fearful steps.
You came from lands so distant that it makes society ache.
Thinking of that time and space.
Yet resided all along, you have remained dormant in our eyes.
Young was the world when you began to smile.
Now changed to veiled cathedrals where you refuse to pray.
Fragrant embers of long forgotten hymns.
Wrappings of words fall like orange peels.
You drop those curious glances like pearls on sandalwood floors.
Scattering and chasing the other.
Rolling into the void.
Yet with the midday sun you retreat from our view.
Into the shell of shelf, where we dare to touch you like a forbidden treasure.
Encased in framed beauty.
Those smashed church walls surrounding you.
Warning others of your divine right.
And inaccessibility.

Verdure adjustment

Needle pines in palms.
The leaves grow, flow and blossom off these fingertips.
The brush of the wind, like the breath of mother earth, rustles what has formed.
Green, like the emerald forests that now hold my bones.
They sway and swoon catching the dying sun.
Holding onto the little jewels of oxygen for a moment too long.
Before the great exhale.
A chance to turn clouds into mountains that sail over tempting shores.
The leaves, bitter smelling like eucalyptus and amphetamines.
Fragrant and fragile, I break at a careless touch.
For the sun often harms, and this brittle heart demands a different type of love.
Shaded and soft, like a kiss from butteries’ feet.
Touching these olive blades deep.
High, tall and commanding if left in the sight of love.
These leaves, fronds of sweet depth cruise upwards.
Wanting to touch the sky.
And caress the face of God.

Cognizant purity

In the extremities of that departure.
Where the ground gave way and the stars beckoned.
In the evidence of brilliance.
That wandering elation into nothingness.
Searching for a home, some place to land.
I take down that crucified past, bury it in the soil that is now beneath my feet.
Sweet sand that follows in my shoes.
As the earth hums a hot vibration.
Not returned.
Not remained.
Yet back again to where I find it.
Wiping the turmoil from this skin.
Swallowing sanity for the first time.
Breathing that eucalyptus air that floods and scares me.
Missing nothing, but tomorrow.

Church

How saintly is this soil?
That I see reaching off to the horizon.
That blue sky above must be nothing but god.
A shared beauty. That cobalt collection of atmosphere and faith.
The yoke of this galaxy rises in the distance.
What precious gold this is.
Which direction is Mecca?
The wind rushes through these bones, the breath of god.
Each twitch of a nerve ending crumbles in a crucifixion.
Causing me to speak.
For my eyes to blink and this vermilion wine inside to flow.
The church was built for us. Hewn from the mountains in the sky.
Yet I rarely pray here, as much as I should.
Thankfulness is a hymn I should sing more often.
Yet this house of god stands firm each day.
Waking to the walls and the salty tears of rain that fall inside sometimes.
When the world grows dark, when the candles go out.
Yet its foundations are stronger than Jerusalem.
I fall and touch this ground and feel at home.
Spun around and whispered to by many devils.
But they cannot ever touch me here.
In my church.
On this earth.

Threat

The folds of the future, on a serrated line.
Do not cross the marker. Don’t enter the forest.
A Sound emits from the belly of the earth.
This stirring rumble shakes the pots from the ledges.
Loud is the sound, as it travels under your skin.
Consuming you like tiny bears, fluffy and in your veins.
The forest was always out of bounds.
They knew what awaited.
Yet they built your houses right next to it.
Eye lines and heartbeats finding a mark.
They tell you to keep out, they warned you often.
But they lead you to the tips of the trees.
Tickle you with possibilities.
And so the inevitable.
The forest captures you.
The monster consumes you.
Plucking out the bones to play haunting tunes that drift on the wind.
A threat in the thicket.
The doom in the gloom that drenches like oil.
I found your bones of course.
I always knew.
Having much lingered on the other side of the trees.
Up high, having learned how to climb.
I see the monster, I saw the demise.
I know how it ends.

RED #2: Ruddy muddy sleep

Not over, not complete.
Just fading away.
A blissful depression hung up like ruby red apples.
Strung like silly smiles on those too drunk to know.
This moment washes over, the gravity pulls you down.
Chipping out teeth like tombstones yanked from the ground.
Oh the silence that it unearths.
The faded names who hoped the future would be different.
But the future just teaches loneliness.
As a departure descends.
That long goodbye, hard on the ears but softly spoken.
Trembling in time.
Nothing really dies, we all just fade away.
Siphoned into space.
Breathed out on earth’s asthmatic exhale.
Heaving under strain.
Replaced by things we all despise.
How we spin and sigh and scream.
Reduced to floating dust and regret.
Asleep and dormant, waiting for the nothing.

Depths

Surface skims the night.
Trapped with semi-smiles stained with uncertainty.
Secret sanctuaries hide inside.
That the world wishes to throw open.
Grecian columns made of hope and sand.
Dive and swim, crumble within like the seahorse threatening to climb.
That octopus deep in the sea, down in the sweet depths.
How coiled and unrelenting.
Unforgiving to its own antipathy.
A monster to the untrained eye.
Evil to closed off minds.
The deep where the angels swim.
Sieving the sand for diamonds and long buried treasure.
Still frames and traded air.
Unaccustomed to changes of weather.
Happy below like a clam.
Silent like the sea.
Yet pools of the mind reverberate and threaten.
Strumming to the forces of life.
A sweet sound known before.
Down, where the sea smashes the earth.

 

93

Lost, feeling the way out.
Travelling through the veins of god.
Hearing that global heartbeat.
I want to swallow the moon tonight.
To feel the tidal shift in my stomach.
To spit out the bones of the past.
And the well-travelled tin cans.
I touch this earth, and it feels like home.
Yet when my eyes blink open.
I am crushed by the weight of this world.
I belong here, but a million miles behind in time.
Waiting for the palm leaves and ferns to sprout in my veins.
I wish to return, and remain.
Eating forbidden fruit.
Running with the beasts.
Perhaps the change will come from inside.
Washing over me like conscience.
Seeing the divine in all that my eyes lay upon.
This is our home. It’s our only one.
Ninety three million miles from the sun.

Lay me down

To sleep, in a dream that never wakes.
Flying on stars and tears tonight.
Lay me down.
Into the air or the earth.
For that is where my soul seeks silence.
Covered for a hundred years, a thousand tears.
Rusted and weak.
Lay me down, to sleep.
And tell me stories of the future.
A harkening of new truths.
When this time has died into a yesterday.
I will wake, and drink the world in again.

The fall will kill us both

Walking on this wire, I see the sea below us.
Cool and deep like the thoughts of mother earth.
Take my hand, there is nothing to catch us if we tumble.
Down into the shark filled ponds of loneliness.
Where our bones will turn to coral.
And you will dig down into the sand.
Foot follows foot as we walk.
Inching along the eggshell laden rope.
Banana skin memories drop like raining frogs.
I profit from my certainty, that these plagues are temporary.
Hold me if I slip, and I will catch you if you stumble.
Walking on this wire. We must be careful.
Because the fall will kill us both.