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.

 

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Restless perfection

Sometimes the flowers bloom in winter.
And never enough, is never quite enough.
I pull down the moon, and you beg for the stars.
As the diamond ocean laps at our feet.
To dig into our world for precious stones;
is the least I can do.
Perfect. Like thoughts of mother earth.
Your hand in mine for eternity.
Your tears are butterflies, set free on the wind.
Dancing beauty, little Chinese fans that flicker in the sunlight.
You are restless, you are wild.
Your pressure of commotion shakes the world into crimson.
Fervent reds, the dye of those who dream while wakened.
As the darkness flinches and the thunder clouds roll into nothing.
Your remarks on this day, and the marbled mayhem of your kingdom.
Slips into my heart.
Your words, soft on my cheeks like the happiness of my youth.
You are that Christmas present under the tree.
You are the tricycle I conquered.
The perfection of you never wavers. Never fades.
And never rest.
Always wanting more.

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.

Turning blue

Why is my world painted red?
No home, no hope, no heart.
Cast on a raft headed to the end.
Your vermilion tongue spits these thoughts.
A fever and the fakery that expands.
Yet these lies break in my hands.
And the hope swims beneath.
Blue and enticing. Like the ocean in god’s eyes.
A Sweet expanse of blue.
And nothing like you.

My choice, completely

In your mind of turpentine, in your soul of sadness.
Dwells a fear, that pulls you near; that on it’s own is madness.
By many names it calls itself. By many ways it shows.
A caring culture, an emotive vulture. A consideration grows.
But what it is I have for you, isn’t fake or spineless.
It’s unconditional, an endless sea. A true love that is selfless.

I miss my ocean

Sand. Dirty sand and soil.
Dust in my mouth and coating this skin.
A film of sweat covers me.
Sticky heat and restless.
I miss my sea, the ocean that bore me.
Tranquil and deep like the pools in my mind.
To drift and meander across its aqua stretches.
Calms the blood that torrents through me.
I miss my sea, my ocean.
At times stormy, but full of life.
Threatening to pull me down to the ocean floor.
Where I can be alone, and able to heal.
The arid heat and air of this desert itches my eyes.
Scratches at the very thought of going on another day.
The salty air calls me back.
A maelstrom of reasons directing my compass.
To ride over waves and rise with Atlantis.
Reaching a trident back up to god.
So I shall make my way, and crawl back into the sea.
One which always welcomes and cherishes me.
Washing everything clean, and cooling my soul.
I miss my ocean.
I miss my sea.

Hate

The weight of hate, is too heavy to hold.
Lost in an illusion of lead turned to gold.
It deadens my heart with its poisonous grip.
Forcing my soul to abandoned ship.
So my ghost sails on, unfurling the rope.
That drags out behind, never snagging on hope.
Yet your lighthouse before me, beckons my fate.
You full of light, will surely banish my hate.

Leviathan

You might never know it’s there.
It’s been quiet for so long.
Dormant, but strong like indecision.
The Leviathan of the soul.
Lying in its own blackness, biding its time.
It’s older than you, it came before us all.
Moving and shaping like the clouds across the sky.
It does not seek the calm waters, or the tangerine days of summer.
It comes with the storms, the hurricanes of the heart.
When your bow is breaking, and you’re taking on water.
When you are barely holding things together.
Caught on rocks and the shallows of shame.
It seizes those moments.
Gripping you in its darkened grips of despair.
Blocking out the sun with its inky nightmare.
Pulling you down fathoms gasping for air.
To float forever in the torrid turpentine seas below.

Taken from Leviathan of the soul

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.

Leviathan: Of the soul – Out Aug 25th

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Out Aug 25th

Lurking deep within all of us, even those familiar to the stormy seas, dwells the leviathan. The monster in the soul which takes hold when the sun is so easily burnt out. It is the bringer of the darkness, the chaos and the nightmares. Threatening your little raft of life, cast out into the world.
Journey here out onto the sea of poetry and short stories that explore the waves of emotions, horror and sadness. But keep an eye on the horizon, for that little splinter of hope that breaks from the sky.

‘Leviathan: Of the soul’ is a poetry and short story collection covering topics of death, mental illness, suicide and redemption. Hold on against its onslaught.

joojo (1)

Empty waves

In the night, when the velvet dark covered my skin.
We walked the beach, feeling each grain of time beneath.
To look into the sky, was but to cast over a hundred million jewels.
Twinkling there like possibilities.
The ocean, so vast and endless lulled me with its tune.
And the ocean spray tempted me at first.
Drawing me in with ideas of Atlantis.
But now, the harsh sun burns down.
Cooking the salt in these wounds.
Listening for you in empty shells.
And now, all that’s left;
is to hold my breath before your tsunami.

Journal – I had to grab a suitcase

I’m all alone and I can’t get back. Get back with my wanderlust.

I am very fortunate to be able to travel. It’s a freedom that I do not take for granted and one I appreciate greatly. My recent wander-lusting has taken me to Australia, the land of vegemite sandwiches and killer spiders…..
Read the rest over at the journal

MR

The Island

Sky west and crooked, that’s where you’ll find me.
Wallowing in the shallows of a spirit so deep.
No man is an island, yet here the land mirrors my form.
Hewn coarsely out of limestone and chalk, strong and cratered like the moon.
You may cast you anchor down to my sandy soil.
Hoping to raise your flag and conquer me.
As you explore what you think you now possess.
But a volcanic change of thought will turn these tables.
Collapsing all that lies in reach.
And we shall sink, beneath the waves of our doomed Atlantis.
To be spoken of in awe by those who follow our demise.

Palpate

To make you consider, that what I see is real.
To crack this skin like a mirrored pain.
A reflective love dancing on the wings of happiness.
Clouded and scorched.
Licked and honoured.
A crumpling vision of everything.
Tapping now at this skull.
Did I force you to reconsider.
What treasures remain.
Whether it’s me, happy inside you.
Or just a vast ocean of pain.

Savage reconstruction of self

Through heavy storms this heart doth beat.
Battle born and weary.
Feathers frayed liked angelic irony.
Patched and nearly severed.
Where do you go to be reborn?
While wolves lick between your teeth.
And though pregnant hopes swell and ebb.
Through cobweb sticky emotions, and distance in your eyes.
The cries of sincere doubt corrode quickly in your salty waves.
Smashed into pieces upon your unwelcoming rocky shore.
Yet something crawls out of the ocean.
Something that slayed the terrors of the deep.
To reach up and scale that towering mountain.
That you placed there to warn those out to sea.
Of how close to god you now sit and suffer.
How away from us you wish to be.

Octopus

Cracks in the colossus.
Licking time across new wounds.
Limping and lumbering back into the ocean of your eyes.
Taking lifelines.
That little notepad you kept in your desk.
Right behind your mind.
Scribbling a sonnet for thine truth to break.
And a storm to release.
Sweeping up all the worries and the fish from the bottom of the sea.
I bottled up these sea storms.
The swell in your day.
But you pick and poke at the cork and the corrections.
To then complain that you are soaking wet.
What fable lives now in that oily deep?
What treasures do you covert, claw at and keep?
For in my mind too swim a thousand sharks.
Tasting blood in the water.
And it’s tough, stuck; no longer able to swim.

SWELL

A surrendering, like the moon at dawn.
Complicates my waking dream.
For I now walk with lighten feet.
As the ocean flowers bloom in my chest.
And a smile scratches across my face.
You are the one, the holder of everything.
The taste of honey at the end of my day.
You keep decay at bay while pulling down the stars.
They find me, on the edge of complication.
Yet equating such science to the subatomic pull.
Of like, attracting like.
Your eyes, which pull me over like the waves.
Crashing again and again, down into the pools of your soul.
Cling, like a ring of bright water, forever in my serpentine mind.

The World Beneath

Hold your breath. Count to ten.
Join the depths of the world beneath.
An inversed galaxy that never ends.
With lotus flower eyes you can see if you listen.
The aquatic hum of a sight leagues beneath your bones.
You are the octopus that crawled back to the sea.
The Sinking ship which will haunt the ocean floor.
Poseidon blood tingles in your veins as you descend.
To the world beneath, the silent watery grave where the weeds dance.
Each wave washes away your grey.
And every day your Atlantis awaits.

Adeline

Adeline, why do you trouble me so?
Why do you pull down the stars and the moon?
Chalking up these eyes with lunar dust and wonder.
Oh Adeline, do not speak my name.
It crumbles my ground and shakes my resolve.
Moving my inner mantle with volcanic changes of heart
Oh sweet Adeline, keep those lips the distance of the sun.
Rising from my eastern treasure like the dawn.
Blinding if I look that way.
My Adeline, I wish I knew you then.
When my world could make a house for you.
In the forest of fidelity when we were both young.
Goodbye Adeline, you will always dwell in my hope chest.
Covered in gold at the bottom of the fathoms.
Yet locked away in time by a key you will never own.

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 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.

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.