White bruise

Surface fed by the apple moon.
Glossy angle skin reflects the winter’s night.
A smile spread so thinly that truth threatens to break free.
Underneath and inside the storm settles.
Displaced pools of blood and memory wash into new courses.
Beneath never forgets.
Pale brown eyes reflect nothing but an illusion.
The fingerprints remained on my heart, long after you left.
It never shows as bitter.
But it burns in a cold fire that time will never quell.
Embedded words that stain this soul.
Never unseen by me.
Life tries to climb so high upon us now.
Never knowing how incomplete. How far I fell.
I stopped answering.
When you stopped believing.
And now this history spreads inside like a never fading white bruise.
Invisible to the future eyes that are now forbidden to go underneath.
I can see that in your lies.
That you would now only pretend to want to know.
Kissing this iceberg skin.
Numbed by the memories locked within.

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Apathetic by design

These boys and girls, with hidden smiles and transparent trauma.
Promise nothing of tomorrow.
Selling chalky kisses in crises centres, splattered across the map.
Which you now trace your fingers across.
Finding washed out welcomes in every state.
At least those that you remember.
You phone calls go unanswered, avoided like Monday mornings.
They move away and sigh long lamentful breaths.
Dropping almond eyes to the ground.
Feet shuffling to a sound of a country mourning.
A country held prisoner to the promises of thief.
Now tomorrow feels scary, fluorescent feelings that fold like paper moons.
The tide turns too soon.
And you return once more to the ocean, picking the salt from your eyes.
Counting the tears that drip like a million wishes into a well.
Like the one your cast into as a child.
When everything seemed touched by magic.

Bestowed

Your voice, it calls me higher.
Cracking this concrete world which tethers me at times.
The challenge in arriving, with a heart still heaving.
Shaken to the core, for the love you try to give.
You turned away, and I was lost again.
A return settles in my soul.
With eyes that learned to love again.
And hands that try to heal.
Don’t speak to me yet, for I may shatter.
Listening to such sweet benediction.
From lips I wish to meet, and taste again love’s magic.
These expecting steps, lead me further.
As I clumsily tumble into now.
You say you want me, and the moon begins to weep.
As you being to wash away my sadness.
Kissing the scars, some made by you, in low starlight.
Skin to skin.
Drenched now in honey within.
Sweet sparkles.
With strung up stars waiting to explode.
Disintegrating now into brilliant lights of diamonds.

Twist towards memories

We are changed forever.
Never the same.
Crawling out of this chrysalis.
Rubbing tired eyes with filthy fingers of the future.
Everything given, is repeated.
Everything stolen, is forever lost.
The future begins to fade like a dying star.
Caught and taken on the threshold of a coming storm.
Love came and went.
Permeated, then evaporated like the morning fog.
How we longed to be held safe in those arms.
Rocked into safety as the wind above howled.
But everything they gave, was taken away.
Everything promised, now sold.
Leaving broken bones and the residue of knowing.
A maddening knowledge of what the other sees.
A heavy heart feeling their need to go.
Now each evening I wave goodbye to the sun.
And welcome the loneliness of the moon.
But all too soon, it too departs.
And the rays that hit me in the dawn feel different and colder.
Re-birthed, repackage for tomorrow.
Threatening another day without you.

Life defected

She made herself lost, scratching out her own identity.
How easy the shadows consumed, filling in the voids.
Washing deep into the caves of her soul.
To disappear completely, to cut those cords.
The attachments hurt like rotting teeth.
The tear was quick, rip-trip-flick.
Out into the wide blue, putting an ocean of miles between;
that harrowing of self. The death of dreams.
To be lost entirely tickled her within. Feeling the butterflies rise.
Like when she was a child.
Tantalisingly fluttering on possibilities.
She followed the breeze, winding over roads of bad intentions.
Finding herself underneath rocks and inside the corpses of birds which flew too high to the sun.
She heard her own voice in every crash of a wave, and the cry of each night making way for the dawn.
Her reflection she saw, rippling in the sea of tranquillity and in the eye of god.
To be lost, was how she found her soul.
Cast away on that tiny little craft of self.
On no-one’s tide.
Swallowing only her own light.
This is how she hoped it could be, all lost of time and space and never found.
And still she floats, and dives and flies.
Further from the sun each day, hoping to escape her own Milky Way.

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.

Diverted by distance light

Dreaming hopeful and sifting sand.
A hollowed doubt in a burning hand.
As eyes peel back and strip the moon.
This silent feeling is gone too soon.
We count the days as they fall like birds.
With tarred up feathers and swallowed words.
Two throbbing hearts break forth and run.
Leaving shadows and souls in that dying sun.

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.

Filter

With a tapping on these hollow bones.
Echo excuses.
Yet the tender skin, pulls you in.
These eyes blink as they reconstruct.
Speaking words that silently fill the air, with one harvesting look.
It’s these systems that are used, drummed out of fallen trees that stood watching over the dinosaurs.
Pouring that sticky sap into golden ears.
It’s seems delicious that movement.
Skin that sways like a moon tide, drifting into aching harbours.
Wooden bones, felled in a Pisces rising.
The sweetest time to hew and marvel.
Yet a switching off of this world leaves you vacant.
Wandering in that pasture where the insects buzz and sting.
That filter you use offers no clemency.
As poison needs no audience to flood the blood.
And you are now too far from home to be saved.
So we’ll bury you where you lay.
Covering you in shells and sweet kisses.
Eternally disconnected.

Retreat

I cannot go outside.
They will not see.
I lock the doors and turn the world down.
Set the moon to wake me, so I can dance in the dark.
They cannot know, they should not look.
I came to disappear discretely.
The void is my own.
Yet a consequence is not from a lack.
The love and respect weighs me down more than you will ever know.
But I have to go, I have to depart.
Sailing out on silent ships that leave you all in fog.
Not a death, not a dim.
A recapturing, of self.
Until I’m stronger to hold back the waves of the world.
Stronger, to survive the sun.

Wandering star

These wandering stars shape the night.
Pushing out the darkness.
You weigh like dark matter.
Heavy and invisible.
Watching as the other stars dance.
Can I taste those nitrogen lips?
Just for a moment, in the vacuum of nothingness.
How you have travelled, lonely across our eyes.
Blinking in and out of life.
Pulling me like the tide.

Accelerate

What have you done?
Today, this life; where have you gone?
Which root did you pull out?
What bone did you break?
What flood turned to drought?
Which love to an ache.
You may forgot everything in the end.
As time shuffles by, and souls begin to bend.
But you have each moment, each second in the sun.
A little tiny diamond, reserved for each one.
To pick up today, and more the day after.
A small little treasure, like happiness and laughter.
So forget the mould and oil that covers you like gloom.
And go out and discover, and shoot for the moon.

Some kind of stranger

There were stories of course.
Bad childhoods and frequent trauma.
Violence was like the rain, blown in like a storm.
But she did not live in the past too much.
Her story was colliding forever into tomorrow.
Wiping off the fever that electrified each night.
She had been beaten and adorned.
Wrapped both pearls and handcuffs around her arms.
Flesh was to be devoured.
Ghastly and exciting, making a mess in her soul.
She wiped away the blood drool.
What lay between her lips, her soul, her hips.
Was given by her own decision.
A consensual barging, for being alive.
For being a creature so prone to movement.
The survival of the imagination.
Her look that cuts the room.
The heart pierced by gloom.
Made her a provocateur for a classless age.
You would smell her on your sheets.
Crave the wet drip that smouldered still on your tongue.
But she would be gone.
Side stepping a fall from a grace she named herself.
Wearing her own crown, made of tinfoil and treasure.
But it will not always be that way.
The legs that part make way for opportunity.
Which always finds its mark, if ready or awash with indecision.
She was the girl that left too soon.
She was the guy who bought the moon.
And sold stars instead.
He is not one to remember fondly, his past indiscretions.
But shame had no place in his beautiful heart.
And his story starts, not with a departure.
But a glorious homecoming.

Devoir

The noise was smothered by the night.
Lain down in god’s whisper.
So deep the mind fell.
Beyond fossilised creatures and secrets in tar.
The moon hummed in its milky orbit.
Delicious solitude descended.
A quietening of existence.
That is where I’ll find you.
Beyond the chaos and the trauma that litters these lives.
Your sanctuary for my soul.
A marbled palace adorned with tears and precious memories.
A temple I wish to practice our religion.
So light those candles and sing me to sleep.
With conflicting thoughts of tomorrow.
And your voice crawling over me.
So when the day blazes into this skin.
Purifying each sin.
The renewal within, is possible.
Only by your sweet vow.
To remain.

Tender

Like the night. A soft velvet expanse.
Reaching through time.
Through misty eyes which open wide.
They devour me.
In a kiss that kills me, over and over.
Yet tenderly I swim down.
Passing jagged words you keep inside.
Released, only to the moon.
As you howl them into nothingness.
For tender is your way.
Sweet bruises of affection which stay,
within us forever.
As we nestle into the tender wings of love.
Slipping into time.

A Funeral of thoughts

An earthy taste in your mouth.
The soil that slips from your lunar lips.
Is a burying of the old.
Broken thoughts grown frail and forgotten.
They’d rambled in your mind like an aged pensioner.
One that no-one bothered to check on.
Whose milk bottles of intent built up on their doorstep.
These thoughts tried to slip away in the night.
Silently and painless in the light of a new day.
In the light you bring.
Those thoughts that are the shadows of self.
From the dark side of the moon of the mind.
Fearful of the sun, that shines from your eyes.
Dirt, on my pillow when I wake.
Burying the thoughts in dreams masked as nightmares.
Finally, dead and buried.

Burn upwards

You, like a million pieces of an eclipse.
Falling on me like a Friday night.
You pepper my world with smiles.
Like stars peeking out of the black blanket of night.
You take me to such gravity.
You ask me to disengage.
A resistance that seems futile as I wash in your orbit.
Streaming down into the sapphire sway of your words.
Licking at my mind.
You, like a light in a field at night.
Leaving circles across my heart.
I count the halos. I watch for the dawn.
And you stay.

Sun killing moon

This bird flew too high.
Trapped like bugs in amber, in that tangerine sky.
You called it out to sea, you called me up to god.
Lost in your beauty.
Displaced in your gentle fog.
For that violent sky of yours threatens and thwarts.
Tumbling down rain, lightening and thoughts.
That nip and pluck the feathers of our dove.
Trying to fill the void, of your eternal pillow with love.
But your seasons shift, and our continents divide.
Out into the galaxy; you quit, run and hide.
For you are cold too my touch.
And through my hands you now slip.
Though I want you so much.
We’re just a sad sinking ship.
Cut loose into space, and scuttled way too soon.
For I’m just the sun, in love with the moon.

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.

Heliocentric detours

A story unfolding at the speed of life.
Unplugged or imbedded.
I think I missed the Milky Way.
Drinking once more from a cup of stars.
Do these words seem familiar?
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.
Call for tomorrow.
As your moon hangs heavy in your heart.
Blue, like the subterfuge that shrieks past like a shooting star.
Call it what you want, taste it like confusion.
But be sure to rinse you mouth with the irresistible.
And swallow the sublime.

Echoes in arbitrary flow

Through this darkness, you felt you way.
Fingers in decay, while you groped for something.
I told you, you knew it then.
I would be waiting.
As the moon rolled away like the end of a film.
And the sadness reeled you in.
You held your breath and counted the silence.
Little drops like chips in teeth.
Tiny shifts, the tectonic plates deciding.
I hovered above.
My eyes light like a dove in its pirouetting flight.
I stripped your mind like a Christmas tree in January.
Shed. Cold. Naked.
And ready.
Placing candles in skulls to light your way.
The bodies of your old self, at use after all.
We swim out of the concrete, and into the sky.
Minds now alive and deliberating.
Of which wing to fly upon.
Which sky to pull down and cover us.
To disappear here.

Beyond the edges of reason

How did they pluck the flowers of me?
The budding explosion of perfume and pride.
Each one pushed through such dark deep earth.
The soil and shit of a life in this age.
With their eyes they take.
With their hands they snatch.
Groping and tearing at the petals of my mind.
To say the tears watered the earth, sullens those drops so innocent.
Muddies the pools in which my heart swims within.
So I keep them out.
I fence it in.
Planting pansies in the mouth of the weeping willows.
Building the trees tall that they reach up to heaven.
Where I can make my escape.
To plant fresh seeds in the lunar lawns of eternity.
Alone and content, to watch it all from space.

White/Blue – Part II

(part I here)

Ice on the edge of space

She slept of course, that’s how she’d gotten there. Trapped in a dream that travelled across sky and time. It wasn’t far really, not within her scheme of things. Europa was really the backyard to Earth’s green and blue house; compared to the places she’d been and seen. The trip was quick, a blink of the inner eye for her. Sleeping, forming, and settling into something new in which to emerge from. No-one knew she had left, she made it that way. It wasn’t sneaking out the backdoor or running away, merely moving to the place she knew she would blossom. Unfold in the weighted gravity and expand like the sea coral in her mind.

Getting there was the easy part. She would not miss her home moon, she was not one for looking back. Too many shards of ice poking her into a position she knew she’d outgrown. She had breathed her last and stepped into her waiting transport, bidding a silent farewell to her gods, before becoming one herself. She had shaken her teeth out, burying them deep into the subterranean ice, like planting a seed without the expectation of growth. A silly ritual, one from her childhood. Sealing overt the past and welcoming a new dawn. She’d marked the spot with taldium stones. Smooth onyx rocks that looked like fillings from a gigantic beast. This was all she left behind. New teeth grew inside her as she’d slept in the transport, hurtling across the cosmos as the milk teeth grew and fused together in the depths of space.

Her heart had guided it. The comet that buckled and flayed in the pressures of the vast unknown. Steaming up in the re-entry to a land she’d never entered before. It had lit up the sky across a remote part of china, heralding change and ill omens to the many onlookers who captured it in their eyes as they gathered around their small communal fires. Her heart beat, her skin stretched. Her mind collapsed a million times only to be reborn and steer the transport to that spot. A spot chosen, not for its ease or any strategic opportunity. It was chosen for its sole reason alone, the reason she had left Europa in the first place. It was where the one was, the one who could change her and perhaps, even save her.


Detach and connect

Steam began to gather around them now, the snow and air evaporated temporarily while the remains of the comet and the contents hissed and spewed in the hole in the ground. The lady of the jars didn’t hesitate, she hoped into the hole and began pulling away at the stray tendrils that had not joined the body. She pulled and heaved, working it free and pulling it away like a tooth from a root. Her hands were raw from the cold, but the blue liquid quickly covered them and the pain subsided. She was resourceful, years of chopping wood for her fire and toiling her own yard had given her strength and determination. She lifted the body like a doll off the floor, heaving it over her should; the doll now a sack of flour to be carried into her cottage. Snow began to cover the hole, the marked earth smeared black and blue began to be covered once more in the blanket of white the lady of the jars had always cherished. Soon there would be little evidence of any visitor. It was a secret she was eager to keep to herself, and with that thought she hurried quickly inside.

Closing the door, she took the body over to the fire in her living room. Her house was sturdy, and she could only just hear the howling blizzard outside, the fire crackling over the sound of the perpetual winter. She placed the body carefully, then stoked the fire before taking off her cardigan which was now wet with melted snow and ice. The blue liquid began to slacken, but it did not pool off onto the floor; instead it collected into droplets which lifted up into the air, disappearing like tiny ghosts.  She stood back and watched the transformation, the cocooned being separating into the body of a girl. The hair and skin humming to life with a florescent radiance which faded to healthy glow. The girl’s eyes suddenly blinked open and she sat up. Her eyes, those azure wells that pierced the room flashed and opened up a doorway to another space. A land beyond the stars. The lady of the jars handed her a throw which she kept draped across her good chair, and wordlessly the girl surrounded herself in it. Embracing the warmth and kindness the protection it offered. They sat there in the quiet for some time, having a conversation with no words but levelling out their worlds.

“Tea, that always helps a situation.” The lady said, standing up slowly as not to frighten the girl. The ageless entity that sat on her rug in front of the warming heat. “You stay by the fire, I’ll bring it in.” she said, bustling out into the kitchen. She boiled the kettle and took down the jar of green chai, tipping the leaves merrily into the giant teapot she always had on the side. Though she lived alone, she always devoured copious amounts of tea, and the giant teapot was a testament to it. She filled it up with the bubbling water, and added some crushed almonds, swirling them around inside. She grabbed some small glasses and returned to the living room with the refreshments; popping them down on the side. Though it had been snowing hard and the day was dark, it was now growing darker she noticed, finding the light from the lamp post at the end of her path gaining more strength in the encroaching shadow.

“You must have travelled far, here drink this; it’ll help.” She said, handing the girl a small glass of the tea. The girl reached out with her swan like hand and the lady noticed it then, the etching on her arm. It was a pattern, words even, in some sort of languages; she was sure her book could tell her. These weren’t just dead prints like tattooed skin. The pattern and words swam with life, like a moving aquarium dance of blue hue and light, rippling across the skin, growing strong then faint like a conflicting idea.

“Thank you.” The girl said, reaching for the glass. Her teeth split apart for her to speak, having fused together on her journey. The words were understandable to the lady’s ears, but anyone else from anywhere else would have understood, the language fitting the ear of the listening, wrapping around the mind and settling in the soul. A sweet whisper of a voice, like a feather landing on a petal. Delicate, but hiding a secret strength of flight.

“Are you…” the lady began, but was interrupted by an abrupt and determined knock at her blue door. It wasn’t the pheasants this time, that she knew.


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