Implode/Explode

Red is the colour that covers you at night.
The dripping film of my love.
The insides, now outside.
Purposely making the world uncomfortable.
A Gold shines in these eyes.
Hewed from that stone that was once your heart.
The volcanic change brought about when we kissed.
When the world ended there and was reborn.
Death lies in the centre of the storm.
Furious unbalancing in the explosion.
While the emotions settle, the thoughts cover like ash.
Red is colour that we build upon.
A crimson rainbow of unknowns.
Shimmering while you hold my hand.

Advertisements

So 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.

Volcano

An island unto thyself.
In a sea of that swims and breaks with waves of discount.
You raise the flag on the mound.
That sword, you bring on down to me.
Yet I build a world around you.
Like a town on a volcano.
Climbing higher for a better view.
Yet a rumbling in the belly of the beast is heard.
Daily, I wait for black rain.
But hope for the sun to shine.
Yet the rumble can be assuaged.
As I climb to the lip and taste the lava.
Kissing your plume of red and dangerous fire.
On high, I can see the turrets of other kingdoms.
Their flags, bound and bright in the tropical sun.
Happy under the banner of the one.
Yet I remain, rooted to the hard cooled magma that is your soul.
Knowing the end, will have me buried like the people of Pompeii.
Frozen in time, in ecstatic pain and awe.

Head for the horizon

The cuttings of a life, strewn over floor.
Burning the house down.
Taken all the youth you could carry.
Watched and charted.
By faces with a lack of sincerity.
Living only as ghosts in a mind;
now tired of putting out the fires.
Of keeping wolves at bay.
Tinsel traces of the familiar.
Staining the past.
Yet born to run away.
Who remains, to entertain?
Just swallow your feathered fear.
And head for the horizon.

London burning

Heavy scented air, the smell of ash and autumn.
Of change brimming like a supernova.
To watch only, yet still participate; leaves me shaking.
That blood on the sky, smeared into a ruby rose.
It stains my eyes and heart.
I watch as London burns with a fire of sadness.
Of a past ignited into nothingness.
But I’m not looking for someone to blame.
Those flames lick like a consequence that is buried deep in my hands.
Red and scorched like god’s eyelashes.
Choking out the hope and happiness.
It rages on, bringing ruins to our appetites.
Finally snuffed out by huge holy tears.

Hunted

Are you haunted or hunted?
Crossing streams of inky despair.
Trying to slip away into the night.
A hunted animal.
Arrow marked and sought out.
It is not the jungle you wish to return to.
The scraping spires of the city is the one you hope to leave.
But they won’t let you be.
You’re a hunted animal.
Wiping tears on leaves as you run.
Putting out the forest fires.
But soon your heart tires.
Still hunted.

Black snow

The heat will blaze and feel like hell.
A product of some evil spell.
That clings to you like sticky oil.
And all life seems such gruel and toil.
But then the rains will quickly come.
A gentle tapping. A blissful hum.
And wash away that oily mess.
Of anguish and the painful stress.
You soak your soul in calming pools.
Which cleanse the mind like shiny jewels.
But before long, the flood waters rise.
And you’ll see only death in drowning eyes.
For floods wash away the most unfaithful.
And rid the world, quite harsh and wasteful.
And as you sit in quiet despair.
You feel an ember, alight on air.
The end at hand, no ice age coming.
Little demons with their evil drumming.
For though above, it falls as if from below.
The hurried end, in sad black snow.
Which chokes the world and covers discretely.
Your soul and bones for time completely.

Particular illusions

To sleep under the stars, and to count the heavens.
A result of you burning my bed.
I lie on the cool grass and watch out for comets.
Racing from Olympus to Paradise.
I pulled off the ropes and entanglements.
Escaping with my life, but not my soul.
And now the clouds that cover the milky way.
Blotting out the moon.
Is just the smoke, from the ashes of our home.
Yet suddenly you appear, covered in moon dust.
With starlight diamonds in your eyes.
And you take my hand, and tip the sky over.
Shaking out the stars.
Promising me treasure to be found in our ruins.

Calcination of a dying angel

A flicker in a flame that sets the beat.
Ticking over the tock of a time unravelling.
This flame that scotches the hands that hither.
Trying to love and caress, only to be burnt.
Those feeding fingers that crisp.
The smell of burnt skin and hurt.
Yet a call from within threatens mountainous shifts.
That this life of fire will burn to ash.
And a darkness will follow.
One where we can move without ever being noticed.
For in the dark, we can truly see ourselves.
And I will once again think of running away.

A Vulgar display of gratitude

From the light, to return to the luminous.
Stuck temporarily in the prison of earth.
But these bars are golden.
These chains are studded with diamonds.
Like frozen tears of god.
We flutter on the eternal, like the birds rustling in the trees.
Leaving feathers of time behind and staining history, reminding the past that we flew.
Soaring, tumbling and splintering the great beyond.
So do not frown at the darkening sky.
But be thankful of the threatening rains to wash all this away.
For we have spent so long in the desert, picking over each grain of sand.
Holding them up to the sun to see the universe within.
The sunlight with signify, capture and purify our days spent.
Marking each on with a rebirth and departure.
As we sail in-between, on a sturdy ships of dreams.
Reaching the never ending shores of the incomplete.
Falling off the ends of the earth.
This earth, this state, this grounded place.
Is here to test the spirit and liberate the soul.
So give thanks to the world that is dark and foreboding.
One which seeps in like oil to the heart.
And bow, and pray and thank the creator.
For giving us the chance to spread these heavy wings.
To soar up and switch on the light.
And bathe us once more in golden fires of the absolute.

Flowers behind glass

The door to this heart hangs heavy.
Swinging on the ideals of the irrational.
Breathe on this skin, and watch the gold paper flutter.
Lick it down to keep it in place.
They once planted flowers above my head.
Placed little stones over me to mark this grave.
The place where lonely hearts came to die.
Decaying like the rotting buds of spring.
Within, they did not care to ignite.
You touch me but once, and electrify this process.
Kissing me with an electron blue.
Now, as the rains cover my earth, deep within I begin to bloom.
You never left, you stayed to watch the blossoming.
Feeling the florets in you rose petal hands.
And now they watch, behind glass and a stretch of time.
Only snapshots of a love divine.
Walled away and tempered.
While you pick these roses, without thorns.
And garden all through the night.

Docked in dry sand

How can we be close to God?
When the anger flows. Corroding inside out.
Does God bleed like me, with a fire in the veins?
Turning the petals of penitence to ash.
The devil can just read my mind.
Slipping underneath in the night like a snake under the doorway.
Yet I know I left the door ajar.
And a candle lit, to light the way.
We have wings, yet we walk through the desert of the day.
Complaining over each grain of sand we find.
And the pebbles of people in our shoe.
Hardening our skin to a lesser sin.
A dehydrated delirium takes me.
And these wings grow frail and dry.
And even though we try, we may never sail the ocean skies again.

Claim

I did not choose this future, she said to the dark.
She said to no-one in particular.
They had departed, melted away like last year’s snow.
She waded through the slush of emotions and found her heart warmed.
Not by the sun rising off in the distance.
Or the hand-me-down blanket she wrapped her soul in.
The one she stole from a lover, course and mismatched.
But by the sense of knowing that the day was hers.
Ready to right the ruin.
As she climbed out of her tawdry despair.
Marking her name in red across the calendar date.
Setting fire to the watchtowers in her mind.

WINTER DUST

(For Gina)

Words fall like the snow in the sky.
Each one unique, each one different.
Each one caught on my tongue.
Turning and melting in delicious fires.
This alabaster landscape calls to me.
Threatens to cause such havoc.
Yet stabilize my soul.
People drift to and fro.
Covered in dustings like the souls of Pompeii.
White, as the swan feathers that tickle my brain.
Forge deep into those drifts.
And slip away as the body numbs.
Falling into a winter dream.
Hoping to wake in the spring with all the beauty.
Released from mother natures warm comforting arm’s.

Perpendicular persistence

This love is obscene.
How it builds to a waking dream.
Your hand in mine, as we cross the great divide.
Stepping into now as the cliffs crash below us.
I’ll be your aeroplane, you rocket to the moon.
Smear the sugar on my heart.
So numb to the taste of artificial sweetener.
You’re the real thing.
Familiar reflections dancing with the shadows.
All off stage, and now out of sight.
Those long forgotten poses, positions to the left and right.
Wanting it all, wanting only to be wrong.
Your eyes are devouring me and I swim in the stomach of your love.
Crushing bones and the tar that used to keep me together.
Swallow it down.
Change my blood to gasoline and set me on fire.
To light our way.
To drift away, into love once more.
Eclipsing the moon tonight.

Your dispensation

Fire.
The one that you wanted.
The one you wanted to burn inside your head.
Down to the water you fly.
Walk across the water and drown in sweet satisfaction.
To the life you’ve led, and the troubles you fled.
In all the misery on those roads you tread.
Nothing now could bring you closer to me.
It’s a road down which I cannot follow.
Spit up a new belief.
Something that keeps you high.
And what you can leave all behind.
Shift those dreams, and take down the sky.
Paint it a discharged red (suffered from a mind gone mad)
Such temporal madness used to keep things interesting.
I lost you to St. Peter, as the devil would not let go of me.
Ingrained memory and a guilt that stings.
Now nothing can keep you down.
So fly, leave and believe. Leave it all behind.

Unearthed design

These dreams that held you, turned you over in time.
Made you everything but mine.
They smell like morning peonies, precious symphonies align.
You found the bones of a long lost soul, turned up in the tide of your blood.
Washed away in monsoon floods.
Seeing if your veins could fly, coughing dandelions and mud.
Crack this dream like and egg, stitch up the wounds that never heal.
Stretch it over the world.
Pulled into another paradigm.
Live now for those golden days of charm, pulled out deep from the mire.
Throwing us both on the pyre.
Setting your soul on fire.
Then leave all this decay behind.

Fables of a beautiful weakness

Tell this story tonight, worn on this face.
Tantric and telling like the birds in flight.
Showing much more than flesh and bone.
Keep it safe, snug in your pocket like a pebble.
Dipped in the gold that is spun from your eyes.
Hold tight.
On to me and all that we have to carry.
Refugees of a dark place we once called home.
Our fabled postcard from the other side.
Slipping down the side of the couch of life.
Forgotten if never mentioned by anyone but ourselves.
Take my hand and dance through the flames.
Kiss me and let us bathe in the rains.
Alive with the magic running in our veins.

Halfway there

Simple words have a lot to say.
Like the break between heartbeats.
Like waves hitting the sand.
To swim or drown in your fiery light.
You cover your eyes with intent. Stealing the beauty away.
Keep us trapped.
Keep us safe.
Locked into your skin like DNA.
Longing after life’s mystery.
Build the pyre from your bones and burn me inside out.
Collapse into your cells.
Tasting sweat and love with each gulp of air.
Here is where I want to end.

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.

Reverse back to tomorrow

I travelled down that road, only to get lost again.
Trying to get back again.
If I meet you there, I apologise; I would’ve failed.
Seeing the destruction in your eyes.
A strength you needed was not coursing through this DNA.
The magic in my makeup was only to enable disappearance.
To be made of steel, with golden wings.
Would be a tale for another time, and another version of me.
These signs that I pass, trying to be born again; or to shift the paradigm.
Tell me not of where I am headed, or where I have gone.
They only illuminate where I should already be.
Holding out for tomorrow to be different today.

Spider webs trapped the sun

In her room where the lamps flicker.
Within the corners, like those in her mind.
A devil does sit. A demon does wait.
Clicking tongues and painting her red.
She pulls away from this earth.
Disconnecting the gossamer thread that keeps her fire a flame.
Pulling her teeth out to give them something they needed.
A token for her pound of flesh.
She clipped her own wings so stay.
Only once, yet she lives with that decision.
Tarred and feathered in her dance of the daisies.
Each one waiting to be plucked.
So when the night draws in and those devils shift their feet.
Around her heart a deathly mist doth coil.
Unprotected.
Dangerously defeated.
Flashing her years before her like signs on a road.
Too late to turn back.
Too late to change the destination.