Stay with me

Collide into this dream, let the future bruise your skin.
Watch as the sky throbs, threatening vast cascades of wonder.
What protection do we need from happiness?
Let it infect and spread through these hollow veins.
You turn the tide on systems put there to reject us.
Disconnecting in a shower of sparks which burn out.
Feel the ocean, swallow the sky.
Dive into these eyes so removed from where they came.
That shaded palm. That box under your lungs.
Cut me deep with diamonds and watch me bleed gold.
For my future is now sold, and I give it over to you.
The ribs of my house that promises home.

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Intertwine

The after-burn of lust sees your soul coil around me.
Tunnelling my desperate thoughts up into the sky.
It is a beautiful flowered prison that I daren’t shake free.
A circled decision giving me reasons not to cry.

Afterthought (side B)

He lay on the bed and watched the clouds out the window.
With closed eyes he felt the storm.
Vibrating the hairs on his skin like ghosts passing through.
He buried himself of course, there on his bed.
Sinking into the sheets like a body into a grave.
He was dead from the waist down.
Waiting for the little chalky helpers to plunge the skull.
But the water he felt was from the rain, which tapped at his brain.
Droplets of doubt and remorse.
Tidal fantasies of being swept away.
Yet forever he would lay, in that state of not doing.
Making love to paralysis with the sweet relief of excuse.
He died three days ago, yet still he talked.
Arguing with god, cursing the devil.
Gnawing at the skin of self in a heated display of shame.
He’d known death before of course.
It rattled and moaned around his house since that day.
That awful Tuesday when they left.
He had grown new skin. He had tried to begin again.
But death remained a friend, like a wad of gum stuck in his soul.
He blamed it, he shamed it. He cursed and versed in vain to it.
It was there now, the sad spectator to an actual demise.
Apathetically sweeping up the dust, like one would make a bed.
That bed which heaved with the weight of his guilt.
Throwing out the dreams that played on the ceiling.
While the nightmares wormed underneath.
That bed which was his last embrace now.
Peppered in petals that masked the thorns.
Intimately feeling its way underneath his skin.
And swallowing him forever, in the dandelions of demise.

Awaken

As the heat raises the veins, little ridges of tracks.
This voice travels through those purple tunnels.
The tinkling of endorphins.
An inner voice of confirmation.
God splashing around in the scarlet nightmare.
But the beat in the chest, is the blood hitting the walls.
Everything now comes alive.
Tiny touches, like giant leaps on the moon.
Cradle a feeling that returns us to childhood.
Where sticky iced creamed hands shake at the thought of summer.
To see the flowers bloom.
Or the sun burst out of the sky.
Is the announcing of a state.
A passive suggestive trait.
That happiness finds us in the end.

Take you apart

To pull open your world, and sneak inside.
Tearing out your heart, giving you mine.
Feeling each rise and fall of your chest.
Would lay me out like gold.
Each breath conquers me.
As you lick your lips.
Suggesting that is where we build our home.
On the tip of something beautiful.
We’ve cried out our past.
Knocked down each remnant of uncertainty.
Covering our delicate present in feathers and down.
For this is where we shall collapse.
And watch true love collide.
Collecting it up in a bucket of flesh and stars.

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.

Trying not to breathe

Trapped under a bell jar, while the sun is silenced.
You put this in us. You creep into our bones.
Plucking the feathers from the birds of freedom.
You show us where the darkness grows.
This infection is massing.
Rampant, like you tongue.
A hatred and loathing that was born from a seed.
Deep without our own lungs.
The small parts of me.
Something other, that I cannot understand.
A difference in us as the night to day.
I’m trying not to breathe while the red mist rises.
A fractured state of things, little pockets of disconnect.
What horrors have you exposed?
Which queen of hearts have you disposed?
I pick the wild flowers of hope.
And tuck them into my sleeve.
Sniffing at a fragrance I wish to be within.
Smelling the chance of change.
With each barricade we rise.
A flood of ebb and flow which pulls at the mud below.
Pushing up to the crystal sky.
Smashing this glass that covers us.
This is our Vietnam. This is our Notre Dame.
Running wild out of the despair, into the arms of others.
Who breathe such cleaner air.

Persistence of the unforgetting

Sunken deep like forgotten wrecks.
A hate that broods, contorts and flex.
This grudge is old and just like oil.
Black with time, and within me coils.
Staining my soul with its heartless rind.
Unforgotten, despite the passage of time.
But time has come to break the bond.
That swirling hole, that stagnant pond.
I will no longer give food to the beast.
It is to the wolves, I throw this feast.
A stinking blood drool of unwanted flesh.
Cut from my heart, and so refreshed.
Then wrap a tourniquet of letting go.
And hope in that hole, some love will grow.

Flowers for Harold Jones

Sunken, like thoughts of survival.
Down deep where the waters darken.
A purple bloom that summons your winter.
We lay the flowers over you.
Hoping the petals rot into your bones.
Bringing a colour and beauty, to your sweet decay.
The irises glisten still in your eyes.
Reflecting a dull glimmer, from the hospital sad fluorescence.
Your golden sparkle, now alchemized to ruby red.
We’ll cast your soul out on a sea of lilies.
Keeping your head above the serpentine reef.
Floating above those sunken ships of youth.
And poppies will adorn our flesh.
Pricking and pinching our skin.
Remembering the pain you were in.
As the opium tickles our minds.
And we see you laughing, once again.

The Flowers of revolution

Have you seen?
God’s opportunity.
Inside psalms which scratch your heart.
Voices so strong they stabilise heaven.
Disappear and discover that new challenge.
Which calls you higher.
You remember the way I fell.
I remember your outstretched healing hands.
It’s my only reference point now.
Blooming the songs and suspicions in my mind.
How could you be so sincere?
This imagination comes alive and shakes me.
My snow globe mind.
And in mind of my defence, I used to not believe.
Your simple kiss changed that.
And shook me deep.
These flowers I now weep.

Pieces

Pieces float in the blood.
A crimson river, drawing up to space.
Flowers smashed into oblivion.
Only to remain. As particles of dust.
Floating inside you.
Dusting your eyelids and tainting your tongue.
Lilies and lilacs lifting into a dream.
Lifting in the pulse and throb of the heart.
Blooming in particles while they orbit your organ.
That heaves and struggles to understand.
The demise of such beauty.

Jaws

Those words that flowered down in your skin.
Tickling like cancer.
A love that swelled like a harbour masters fear;
at the sight of storm.
You put this in me. I drank it in.
Siphoned off the flames like a bird of paradise;
flying towards the sun.
Down into the roots of your stomach.
Innocence searching, now lost in moments just begun.
Borrowed, broken. Black and blue.
Rubbed off skin, down to the truth and bone.
Hold me in your jaws, feel the juicy love between.
Swallow me.
Tastes like goodness.
Tastes like emptiness.
For in the morning, I am gone.

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, yet 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.
Praying I rot away and turn into time.

Weeds got there first

The walls ached with their knowledge.
While the eyes of the portraits licked across the skin.
Of all those souls who dwelled within.
And even this was barely acknowledged.
For life climbed up to the ceiling.
Wrapped around each feeling.
And slithered and slunk under skin.
But the sun had its day, and blistered the wallpaper.
Bringing tears to the eyes of the young.
Who wished to bury the sun.
In the deep soil of their souls.
The petal parts and the pith.
Of the flowers and the myth.
Of which we cannot control.
And the house still stands, and the grounds still shudder.
Promising a life, unlike no other.
That blooms and ebbs like the stretching seasons.
And climbs to heaven, for most godly reasons.
To meet the maker, and the cultivator.
Basking like the wheat in the field.
Forgetting the devil, and his own dry thirst.
Ignoring that the weeds got there first.

Thorned love spined

I found myself reaching for you.
Closing the gap between half worlds away.
Pulling space into my back pocket.
Keeping god under my gums.
You pull away and shake off the stardust.
Tugging the thread of the religion we wove.
Spinning out like the solar system.
Cutting me like thorns.
Yet beauty always seems to dance in the distance.
Unobtainable like the rings around Saturn.
Like the rose, once plucked will swiftly start to die.
So I will not house you in glass jars.
Or swirl you inside me like marbles in time.
You can bloom and fade on your own as I watch from a distance.
Seeing Saturn return into space.
Remembering how sweetly you smelt that summer’s day of mine.

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.

Hurry this nirvana

How long had you been sleeping?
In a pool of your own happiness.
Licking the chops of the beasts that sleep.
How anointed of you, to kiss my sandalwood feet.
To stare into the eyes of god and see nothing.
To see only stars, being born again and again.
Your skin cracks and bleeds rose water.
These eyes that tighten with every word from your lips.
Coughing up daises, pulling the leash you keep the world on.
They’d love to hate you.
Sneaking just a peak at your tolerance.
Dousing everything in oil and honour.
Lighting little fires in the dark pools of their souls.
Divine is defined by your existence.
Regret is stained by your ghost.

Checkers and chess

How to topple the king which wears the crown so royally.
Moments and magnesium fill the place of diamonds and gems.
Wrapped in much Fools gold.
And the crown heaves down, rubbing red and raw.
Check
A life long lived with much regret.
Check.
How we turn the heels and fled.
To learn a life in which to lead, we watch the others.
Little eyes through holes in fences.
A voyeuristic violation, into their little galaxies.
That swirl and sway like the black in the white.
Changing from dismay, into delight.
And you take this horse by the reigns, and lead me through the forest.
Through the clearing of my ill begotten ways.
Out of the woods, out of the storm.
Peppering poppies that fill my lungs with such poisonous perspective.
And show me.
That I had been asleep all this time.

Pluck

As a prelude to a harvest.
Of beautiful heads and slender stems.
Comes the bloom of life.
The rotting of the old to be buried out by the tree.
The one which hangs heavy in winter.
Topped by snow and sad inclination.
Each flower a moment in time.
Spun forth from destiny on tiny fingertips of the forgotten.
Names not to be held in the mouths of the mortal.
You pluck the rose from the marrow,
and gaze into the eyes of beauty.
While it slowly wilts into time.

Funeral bliss

Though the day was cold, the hearts were warm.
Burning like a desert isle.
Gold teeth chattered, catching the light and chewing on well-worn stories.
They plundered the past like pirates.
Each memory a jewel.
Each story a fable.
Colour struck you in the face as the reds and yellows paraded the town.
And as they lowered the body down.
An empty coffin. The flesh had fled hours before.
The soul only lingered out of curiosity.
Enamoured by the tulip dance on the telephone wires.
Long distance.
A shuffling then of souls still breathing
Their own bones twitched to jazz beats and sweet treats.
The partying departure for a man long since dead.
What covering could convey how they felt?
A cotton candied coat to keep him warm in death.
The tiny pebbles they had collected, each one dipped in honey.
Sheltering the coffin in rocks and shells.
No one spoke of goodbyes.
No one’s eyes released a cry.
As the stars above collapsed into fireworks.
And they dyed the sky.

Raining underwater

Underneath. Down here where it’s still.
Where the black beauty of the abyss flitters at my feet.
All is quiet.
I’m entombed as in a coffin.
Locked forever in my own space with the promise of ever after.
And then you came.
Pelting my world.
Hurtling across like a comet in my stretching blue sky.
You bring the change, flourishing open like a new season.
Calling sub-oceanic flowers to bloom within me.
Aquatic forest firs that reach up to touch the surface.
My hands branch to catch the light you dazzle.
A sudden rush you instil like heroin bubbles my blood.
Coming up too soon, bending my compression that has kept my heart safe.
A fish not born to fly with you, where the birds and angels soar.
Now it rains under water, puddling the pool of the sea that parts us.
And I drift in the stream of sorrow.
Knowing the rain on the surface, are really your tears.

Efflorescence

Do you feel the change in weather?
The heart beating for the very first time.
Get down on the ground and listen to the soil.
The trumpeting pound of nature’s pride.
Beating like a dominance in my body.
Listen to my flesh as the drum beat breathes and sighs.
You turn a seasons within, devoid of the frost of winter.
Bathed in only the crystal glaze of summer.
Always sunny when you look my way.
A twice look biscuit fire that scorches my soul.
But I do not burn, I bloom.
Mesmerised and polarised in the dew drops of your joy.
The pounding of the flowers in the spring of your step.
Thump as the earth shakes.
Gasp with each breathe.
Gardening in twilight as you sleep when I wake.