Simulacrum

share a photograph of yourself

choose with care and send it to me

so that I may have you frozen in time

the you, that you were, before we

 

tint it with saturated tone

accentuate with overtly bright

label it “when i sought alone”

dazzle my inquisitive sight

 

perhaps a more whimsical take

with a backdrop of bliss-ed bokeh

RAW file, watermarked – not a fake

untouched, entirely you on display

 

and if offered as muted capture

a sepia tinged daguerreotype

i’ll hold with trembling fingers

as memento

your beloved archetype

 

 

………

bokeh is the pleasing or aesthetic quality of out-of-focus blur in a photograph.

 

Float

i am at one with a morose mist

it creeps over, draping

it’s moist tendrils

merge, shaping

shivered fingertips

to settle

on prostrate limbs

so inviting this mellow of

malleable depths

..

lament not

these quagmired proclivities

i chose this home of drawbridge splinters

of fenland, forest and fortress

to nestle your frigid winters

and linger in murky,

mired martyrdom

a stagnant slimed moat

together beneath ice sheet

our cloistral bodies still float

Cacophony undone

to examine the acoustics of silence

consider the space between heartbeats

devoid of decibels

my fingertips a stethoscope

your steady vibration, my cue

perhaps now hold your breath

your sanguine streams may calm

i’ll seek a shudder, then pause

savouring stillness, for love

be our cause

those moments mute between whispers

will deafen as crisp delight

as eyelids fall in deft quietude

under tranquil glow of our first night

even the alley dogs

ever alert under window ajar

will be lulled by

a stagnant blue moonlit sky

for between the hushed evening breeze

exist the piercing silences

of you

of I

Inspired, with gratitude, by the phrase “acoustics of silence”as penned by Christine at

Poet’s Love Song

Wilted

I have all the time in the world

for you

Which is to say

I’ve found a little fertile patch of ground

Sheltered from the sear of the day

And there place, with gentle press

You, single seed

In state of pre-pumule* undress

..

But the early spring

Is cooler

than most

And the frigid ground

a near inhospitable host

for your translucent roots

..

So you turn from my hesitant gaze

You course through weeds,

their maze

a convolute of root and thorn

such wayward course, I try to warn

..

you

wilted shoot

I shall not mourn

*The plumule is the part of a seed embryo that develops into the shoot bearing the first true leaves of a plant.

Home

how have I ever been able to call anywhere else home

when home is here

enveloped in your tantalizing valleys

your fertile undulations

invite lush thought

empty years

traversing empty

to find you in suffocating winter

dormant, cracks permeating ice crusted lakes

branches bare, devoid of bud

patience now my sweet

as ever close, our time to meet

then to part these mists that choke

and sweet spring

our love invoke

Morning

dismal morning you came too soon

with tentative glare you shrouded the moon

casting acid on this heart of mine

contented in shadows

allergic to shine

cowering ever from daylight divine

dare I step into the fleeting bright?

when all I have known is velvet draped night

nay, let me retreat to the calm of dark pure

for the void is my mistress

her iced fingers

my

lure

On high

you elevate me

transecting cloud tufts

ice crystals with jagged tips

brush skin, so unaccustomed

to this maiden flight

with fistfuls of feathers

i grip your Icarus wings

my essence you bare

a blinding

penumbral flare

let us climb higher to taunt

the feeble winter sun

solar warmth shall fuse,

into one

our waxen hearts

molten,

bespoken…

I am the "little armored one", moving gently through life. Hoping to safeguard my sensitivities with layers of words and the expression of thought. Shielding my mirror neurons at times, or tasting music and spinning till I'm dizzy. Every moment here is a gift.