Crushed to diamond dust.
Inhaled in the right light.
When the moon is bright.
Deep into your vines I travel.
Riding ruby seas of love.
Waves alive with serotine.
That burst at the heart centre.
Filling your soul with stars.
Tag: skin
A Universe to devour
Dreams ignite like a Chagall construction.
You and I, flying over rooftops.
Exploding in colour.
I lay you down and crawl into your skin.
Kissing you intimately, feeling my way.
Your body entices and your heart entraps.
Yet it is your soul I’m after.
The bruised, damaged, fraying thing.
Shaking and asking to have life breathed in.
Frantically unable to be cupped in my hands.
It runs from me like a feather on the breeze.
Escaping like a Bharatanatyam movement.
Colours and light, burning my sad lonely grey into nothing.
Love on your fingertips, sticky from the centre of me.
Though this may be transitory, I give in and go under.
Falling for you again as the waves crash over.
Disappearing in such wonder and the perfumed smoke of you.
Coughing up clouds of devotion, and descending like the setting sun.
Love come rescue
Survived, 4am; too tired to see the world for what it was.
Slipping into the cracks and shadows that fill my eyes.
Too numb to notice that I couldn’t notice you.
Standing with arms outstretched like wings.
The bird that always had strength to fly.
That slipped into the open wounds and found our hearts.
It patches us up now, flitting inside our skin.
Pulling feathers over broken bones.
It does not notice the cartilage cage it builds up around itself.
A prison to its good intentions.
It too now needs help, to lift up and soar again.
Love, please come rescue us.
Make us fit to fly and leave this place.
With only fallen feathers to show we were here at all.
Waves rolling in forever
Elements converging as the seasons split.
The yoke of God dripping down your lips.
Feed once more on this honesty.
As your fingers plunge into my heart.
We see clearly, through sea glass.
Kaleidoscopic colours dancing in my skin.
Soundless movement towards eternity.
Stretched out over the seabed.
This world is nothing without you.
Like the ocean without the waves.
Crest and churn in my soul as this love deepens.
As sugar-spun trust follows.
But never leave.
Never lie.
Tie your heart to this bow and let me slip inside again.
And let me taste you once again in this summer rain.
Sinners in church
All I feel, is the blood underneath.
The red torrent that flows the same.
In a look that turns away.
Reaffirms the shame.
Can we be sinners if inside all is pure?
Skin and bone, flesh from him.
Bread that sticks in my throat.
We are sinners in the house of mother earth.
We are angels beneath the floors of hell.
These tears that fell when the walls collapsed.
As the shadows were expelled.
Are the isotopes of God.
Realigning in our cells.
So this sin, I am thankful for.
A difference from the past, pulled from Neolithic teeth.
We are sinners and miscreants.
All the same under the eyes of the blind divine.
Which in turn, makes us holy.
Odium
How did the dignity get replaced.
By illusions which sink deep into the skin.
In a world that spins through the sky.
Scattering bruises and opinions.
On the path back to a god.
Who holds its head in shame.
Hold on to me
Abandoned in the world to greatness.
Whispers from divine lips.
Go seek the light in body.
Numbly I stumbled, feeling the way.
Watching as the darkness split apart.
The yoke of the world bled out.
Covering me in you.
Shake away those lives before.
Reframe a pleasant memory bubbling to your surface.
I was there with you at the beginning.
We intertwine, your hands in mine.
Stroking my heart as it fumbles to a maddening beat.
Slip inside and crumble like every lie.
Hold on to me, as if we breathe the same.
Hold on to me, as my heart is encased in yours.
Hold on. Just Hold on.
Threat
The folds of the future, on a serrated line.
Do not cross the marker. Don’t enter the forest.
A Sound emits from the belly of the earth.
This stirring rumble shakes the pots from the ledges.
Loud is the sound, as it travels under your skin.
Consuming you like tiny bears, fluffy and in your veins.
The forest was always out of bounds.
They knew what awaited.
Yet they built your houses right next to it.
Eye lines and heartbeats finding a mark.
They tell you to keep out, they warned you often.
But they lead you to the tips of the trees.
Tickle you with possibilities.
And so the inevitable.
The forest captures you.
The monster consumes you.
Plucking out the bones to play haunting tunes that drift on the wind.
A threat in the thicket.
The doom in the gloom that drenches like oil.
I found your bones of course.
I always knew.
Having much lingered on the other side of the trees.
Up high, having learned how to climb.
I see the monster, I saw the demise.
I know how it ends.
Blood is thicker
The red lights blur inside my skin.
Casting reflection on the mood I’m in.
A soured feeling of discontent.
The angry ebb of self-descent.
Yet neon blood flows inside my veins.
A pumping pressure which starts to gain.
Which travels north from my deep south.
And splatters the truth from out my mouth.
Though shock is not my best intention.
Nor pain or hurt, out from this invention.
But to boldly state from strength and love.
That the only thing we share is blood.
Delayed doxology
DELAYED DOXOLOGY
The pain turned to gold as the moon rose.
The loss of self-control and the shedding of time.
Dropped like leaves over a diamond lake of soul.
Always late, but now just on time.
Peeling away a skin that once bound.
A body so rooted in the now.
To each side there sits an angel.
Close enough to touch.
Calling me higher, yet I remain.
Being good, being whole, being of service.
The dark begins to melt into light.
The kiss of god, and the whisper of the divine.
Reaffirms my mind, that it all was meant to be.
Now I shudder in doxology.
Praise not just the creator for the air in my lungs.
But the lungs of god, which breathes new air.
I have lost my religion.
And found god where I least expected.
Hidden away, yet smiling at my fall.
Knowing the rise was good for all.
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Death in neutral
Death comes, not in the sudden felling of your tree of life.
That monumental crash in the wooded realm of existence.
Or in an avalanche of silent demise,
Crashing into white off a precipice that follows a climb.
Death never leaves a new life.
It breathes silently on your skin.
Like a misty voice, cold and condensed.
Dew dropping its pain along the way.
Watching as your petals of life fall.
A new one each day.
Taken from
Seasons of a wandering heart
Wichita eyes
In the night they burn.
Fireflies trapped in an amber jar.
Smelling the sand on my skin.
The dust-bowl offerings to a world of plenty.
Wichita eyes follow me.
Bar stamped and ready.
Hovering over something entirely.
Waiting to be consumed.
Where do you go now motel boy?
Burning holes through my skin.
Somersaulting in and turning my blood to milk.
The day fades away, blackening the eyelids of the young.
The eyes always ready.
Waiting for tomorrow.
Outward ink
Where do you go, when the anger shows?
The pulsing in the veins.
Threatening to tear the skin.
Close these eyes, in need of such protection.
Blood as thick as oil, and a heart as black.
Words splinter me?
Rising my inner mercury.
My hurt vibrates to sonic sound.
Angels crying to the war in heaven.
The fury felt through a thousand decades.
Torn from the very books that celebrate such divinity.
These thoughts and callous kisses close in.
Peeling back my lips to bare these well-worn teeth.
The bones break and shift.
Ascending my temples as you try to look away.
But look deep within this life.
Into these blackening pools of my eyes.
Do any of us win?
Struck skin and nitroglycerin on the tongue.
Blossoming florets of purple that do not smell sweet.
They only anaesthetise me in an opium blur.
Sending my skull once more into the floor.
Freedom found you
Illuminated, the folds of heaven.
Bitten torn feathers.
With plucked thorns from our skulls.
That you and me.
Bittersweet.
Red, like the veins of a tree in autumn.
Washed in golden light.
Drunk with sacred hymns that sing in your bones.
I see the lotus bloom in your eyes.
I want to hear your temple sing.
These snow covered aspects, higher.
Above the shelf we cannot reach.
Tickled by the zephyr underneath.
No longer the caged bird that sings.
But the sparrow that stole the sky.
Salvation forest
This is what keeps me alive.
You drying on my skin.
Lobsters of the deep, snap memories for us to share.
For me to fish for.
Your tongue, a mind of its own.
I hope you don’t mind, that I describe you in such words.
But this is what I need.
A photosynthesis of love from sadness.
Breathing deep in me, swelling my soul.
Your Picasso honey, sweet blues of strung moments to fix.
A thorn in my side and iron lung around my heart.
Feeling you on my fingertips, presenting such possibilities.
A kiss will only do, to stain this skin.
Crawl into the space of your mind.
Where heart and head battle like warring gods.
Climbing mount Olympus.
Wax sticking, fear splitting into sweet tangible delight.
Strong roots that burst up toward the sky.
Like ghosts escaping a tomb.
Strange fruit that I hunger for, my teeth to bite upon.
Finding your heart at the centre,
I will kiss into recovery.
Restoring your pulse and transfusing our strength.
Into something eternal.
Breathe in this forest of salvation.
Return home.
Underneath the soul
Deep within, you try to touch me.
Pushing aside all the tinsel and tarnish.
A wipe of a tear, and a telescope in.
Putting your hand on my skin.
Forcing me to crack, to burst wide open.
Making way for the river of brutal buried emotion.
Havoc and Consequence 