Tsunami

We stand on the shore, called down by the ocean.
The sweet swell motions the blood.
Reminds me I am human.
I feel safe in this storm.
As the wind rushes these bones.
Threatening the inevitable damage, I wait for the change.
Holding out for such wild destruction.
This land knows me not, we are but visitors here.
Collecting coconuts of contempt that we store for every season.
Each man an island. Each one built on sand.
Atlantis parading in peril.
Off on the horizon the ship struggles.
Souls shuffle, towards that great divide.
For that I cry.
But the tempest suffocates.
Throws away my tears, out into the eye that hovers.
And weeps only painful laments.
God watching on, lifting no finger.
Remembering the flood.
Soon we are drowning, smashed by the waves.
Broken on the shore of our lives that already began to recede.
I crawled once from the sea.
And too it now, we have returned.
Scattered and in pieces.
Littering the ocean floor.

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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.

Severing

Esoteric sounds lie heavy in the air.
A calling, during the severing.
Deep dark pits that burrow into the earth.
Lay grinning, awaiting to swallow the cast aside past.
Life, like a kitchen table; un-pretty yet stable.
Holds the weight of what the angels let fall.
Sweet apples off their vine’s.
The well is dry, the phone is dead.
All connections are lost.
In that moment of sutterment.
Keep quiet, hear the utterment.
Close your eyes to what is being read.
The future hangs in those gum trees.
It murmurs in that warm southern ocean tide.
Deliverance from the space that darkness possessed.
Awash with light in which to drown.
Soft misty words of hope, that piece the world together again.

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.

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.

 

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.

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.

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.

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

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)

Vermilion

In the struggles of my bones.
Sweet blood running free. Down to the edge of the world.
You didn’t ask me what I thought.
Which is why you left me there.
Predisposed to hope. As the world tipped over.
The oceans emptied into my soul, and I began to float.
Pulled by the moon in a turmoil tide.
The blood lapping at my mind.
Under such tearaway skin, your rivers run the same.
A scarlet surge of pain.
Inside, both still wet.
I want to carve you out of stone.
But your bones won’t allow it.
It keeps me touching your sweet face.
Feeling your heartbeat vibrate the sails that take you further away.
Off into that isolated horizon.
But upon these salty sands, carried by the red river.
I find your message, bottled up and ready to explode.
This doesn’t feel like an apology.
Only a declaration of freedom.
Signed in vermilion.

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.

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.

Mother

Out of the dark, like a Pisces rising.
The ship of salvation on this sanctified horizon.
Oh mother, why do those tears of glass never shatter?
Who wipes away those beads when the world turns over?
We hum the hymns in a frantic manner.
Coughing up rosaries like pearls from the sea.
Yet a pain in your heart vibrates underfoot.
Quaking the earth and displacing my faith.
Not in you, oh mother, the salvation in my sadness.
But in a world I find as sticky as tar, and dark as oil.
Resistant to your holy water.
Tis such vanity I make your image so beautiful.
Mirroring the love I have for my mother of body.
The one I share cells with.
Divine DNA.
So I roll my eyes back, and taste the pain away.
Losing your son.
As impotent as God to intervene in fate.
And I pray, and kiss your blessed feet.
Giving up the holy image in my mind.
Loving you for the first time,
as someone who I always knew.

Love regulator

Your tissue and bone, like hammer and stone.
Lay me down with the poison.
Counting heart beats, the frenzied heat of your touch.
Leads to my defensive corrosion.
Strychnine, and baths of turpentine.
Strip away my doubts, in a sweet sublime.
Your kiss. The dangerous list of a vessel.
Aching to be near you. Pumping to please you.
And sinking with your tide.

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.