Monolith

The coldness we took for indifference.
Or the rising arctic waters.
That strangled scream or misplaced regret.
In our dead vast emotional forest.
Snow covered and silent.
Epic, only in the place of such failure.
The cool touch and horror sprung elation.
In vibrating closer towards the unknown.
Touch me once and shiver.
Lick the emptiness that withers.
The monolith planted now inside our souls.
A place no-one goes.

(Though it’s dead I cannot see, the monolith in front of me)

What if it were all an illusion?
This repeated loop and monumental oak.
What knowledge hoots and chimes in its branches?
What reasoning is tucked away in its roots?
Though the city hums and breathes a static.
This monolith covers all in shadow.
Waiting to be lifted again.
By such fragile divine fingers from above.

Growth in young

You live for the days of silence.
Of echoes in your mind.
Casting back to a time that tastes of weightlessness.
Those days that feel like rain, but move like summer.
Yellow hazed on a cut grass tear blade dripping like dew.
To fold and keep in your pocket.
Is the secret whisper you have to God.
As the days roll into the darkness.
Dulling in the rotten tree that towers in your home.
Just for a moment, hope the leaves don’t blow away in the storm.
For once, the anchor of hope is enough to keep it alive.
Those days of air, all breath and intimate.
Turning over in your hands that wrinkle in the water of time.
Hush, to those calls that take you down into the marrow.
And hang your spirit high on the branches that reach instead to the sky.
Weeping willowy tears to the things your wished you’d known.

Calling out in the dark

Smother and blanket, the ashen world of night.
What deeds are done when all cats look grey?
Who calls to you, when the moon has risen?
That inner part, that secret self.
Exploding in a fountain of stars.
When no eyes can follow, and your dreams are laid.
You left your bones asleep.
And followed the call into the dark.
Beyond the woods, above the trees.
A calling like a ghost on the breeze.
And a voice inside came alive, speaking out and in tongues.
A religion long buried, now dusted off with great movement.
You travel to the moon, and night swim in their minds.
Licking your fingers to the magic left behind.
Darkness and dawn.
Shedding skin and cells.
Becoming what you always knew you were.
You’re new state of being blind.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Retreat

Bullets peel away my flesh, as the city sleeps.
It crumbles into the night.
Slinking into tomorrow like a panther into the jungle.
You don’t run my town.
You won’t own my crown.
The drums of war sound and the concrete cracks.
Awakening once more to a new day of havoc.
Racing rats and such noise in my skull.
Retreat. Re-tweet.
The fingers tap itching by the triggers.
Awash with opinions, thrown like rocks.
Flowers grow where old giants fell.
Mighty names and egos that towered into the sky.
You throw such money around.
Yet you walk sideways.
Poised with perfection, like a clown who has mastered tears.
Retreat. I retreat into the place where I was born.
To a land where the trees breathe my name.
I hear the bullets fly in the distance, yet they cannot reach me here.
They do not know this place.
Or that it’s my finger on the button.

Toujours en fuite?

Vous souvenez-vous, quand vous étiez jeune?
Les battements de coeur dans un infini.
Une seconde sur les lèvres de Dieu.
Pouvez-vous sentir la forêt?
Es-tu fuyant?
Disparu dans les arbres.
Quelle partie d’entre vous ne dort jamais?
Pour toujours rêver dans un monde où règnent les cauchemars.
Portez votre couronne.
Asseyez-vous, et lavez-vous dans les larmes cosmiques.

Skyward pines

Under the trampled feet of the ghosts of the forest.
We lay in the soil, safe for a century.
Soaking the world in.
We turn away from forever, looking into the eyes of life.
Shooting skyward.
Oceans away from the city of conformity.
An exquisiteness that waivers every day. At the whim of the winds.
We are the pines.
Skeletons in season, breaking beauty as we trail the atmosphere.
Still as the tomb of tomorrow.
We watch the forest shiver and shake to a human beat.
Still with a taste of god in our mouths, breathing in his breath.
Dancing in the darkness as the world sleeps.
These pines.
Waiting once more to be cut down by those seeking our answers.
To get at the truth, down in our roots.

Fluorescent future

4am as the world whispers me awake.
All is calm, and the night travels in my veins still.
I slept the day away.
Rubbing the tiredness and memories from my eyes.
Half a world away, yet right where I started.
Right where I belong.
The veil is yet to be lifted form my shaded stay.
Talking to me still from the past in a language I slightly recognise.
Talks of entangled vines and harkening songs.
The red land beneath my feet.
Sticking to me like sand on wet skin.
Rub away these English oaks. This chitter of festivity.
Don’t lead me blind with your patriotic stories.
Colour me sunlit gold and let me sleep.
Crying into the night.
Drifting away on the tide.

Breathe inside me

Call me down from the universe, way up high.
Brush away the moon dust.
Cough up the stars.
You took that picture of us down.
You smashed it into bits.
You broke the past, your burnt the time.
Cutting me deeper than you ever knew you could.
Band aid this flesh that hangs off the bone.
Kiss it to make it better.
Breathe under this water, under my skin.
You’ve packed the walls with soil.
Scattered seeds like a dervish.
You pray for the rain.
You pray for the devil to change.
I stay.
Why do I need you so?

Endeavoured

Don’t you like this honesty?
This radio station that plays nothing at all.
Just truth.
Echoing in the words dripped form your lips.
I should learn to be thankful.
Where do you run to when my anger shows?
Out of the forest, out the woods?
With unstable ground, mine pocked and hazardous.
Running to find salvation.
Searching for confrontation,
Drill a hole into my soul and let the light in.
Burning white light. Let it wash away the tar.
This tonne of hurt weighted through my veins.
A soul starved of understanding. Just meandering, through this grey world.
Your flesh and bone, covering a soul still unknown.
Asking for directions.
Though strange lands, your heart is still home to me.

In September the Devil comes Dancing

Collaborations with Nara15blog

Crinkled veins that litter the ground.
My smile carved like a pumpkin crescent.
Circling the moon.
Laying down for September’s kiss.
A spiced potion that thickens my eager Heart, bone felt and embraced.

Store bought and rhinestoned.
A mask for a hideaway.
A little glint under the eyes to shimmer.
In the cooling sun’s blaze.

Turning on a dime in a year’s sigh.
Tiptoeing back in time.
Last year, to rival such memories.
365. What a year to be alive!

Smelling the dying throes of summer.
As the trees feign death,
In the rustic cinnamon crunch.
Planting poison ivy to creep through my vines.

In a day’s ramble bramble.
Tomorrow, today. Witch way? This way.
On the broom off to do mischief.
Open the door for October’s devils.
Felling my rooted heart, awash with treacle.
Filling my soul with black stars.
These tar-like sediments like shock treats to my mind.
To make me dance manic eyed.

Howling at the orange fire moon,
Silver bulleted like a ghost through gloom.
In ebony tricks.
In a bubbly brew fix.
Rotting my teeth from the roots.

Converging emotions

How did I fall, from my lonely little star?
Forgive this self-pity as I splash dust in my eyes and ice in my hair.
Following the comet, trailing in its wake.  Orbiting your sun.
Set me down, cut these strings that both hold me up and dance to whatever beat you decide.
I brush the mud from my knees and start the trail out of the woods.
Following no path.
Making my way to your heart.
I hear the wolves as they howl and devour things in the night
I see the woods in the trees and the eyes in the light.
Shiny dwelling diamonds with teeth of steel and empty stomachs.
I wander over mountains, I trudge through deserts.
My soul is thirsty and my heart is parched.
The oasis is a kiss, on the edge of your horizon.
The smell of your skin makes me swim in the salty ocean of you..
Until I finally land, bleached liked bones in the sun upon your shore.
Pull me, hold me close and swallow me down into the whale’s stomach of love.
Keep me forever in that tiny cage of your heart, swinging on a perch in deluded bliss.
I will sing us to sleep with a melody of toil and journey’s end.