Tag Archives: patience

The Meadow

where once I was a field of wildflowers

shaded cool near open plain

caressed by breath of winsome breeze

cooled by kiss of springtime rain

.

summer saw me serried and root bound

in servitude of crumbled ground

oh that you, young traveller

should find me, found

.

patiently in seraphic state

a scintilla of self, I did but wait

with drifting seeds

and scion stretch

yet autumn wasted

to weed…such wretch

.

for the dark, duplicitous skies

disturbed the dance of butterflies

and lured away, through savannah grass

far from my field

you then did pass

The Rat

i wander through the rooms

of you, protean partitions

a fawning pass through

shadow facing, self effacing

.

find me

in a cloistered sanctum

an airless antechamber

of faded light fenestrations

spawning Lescaux like illustrations

ancient projection and flickering scenes

reality yielded, yet gossamer dreams

..

you offer me such squalid abode

a somnolent subterranean cell

lulls shallow breath, long slowed

as hypoxia calms the Elysian dark

halycon opiate memories spark

… with hermitic spores

..

something scurries in the sooty stillness

scabious rodent claws at my cheek

“how did you get here” i whisper

another fanciful figment, so meek

“why do you stay” say i

i cannot reach the unlatched door

indolent, i close my eyes

with claws at neck

i wait some more

 

 

The Story

i set myself to read a manuscript

on velvet parchment of skin

delve into a dominion of dermis

revealing the unknown within

hieroglyphs reveal under candlelight

wax smeared commas thereupon take flight

and hallowed breath splatters bold exclamation marks

on the virgin pages of flesh

illuminated quotation sparks

punctuated carnal coronation

turns pages

onto wilder ruminations

from paragraphs pithy and frail

so the story we long for

shall unveil

Petals

a sybaritic desire

to thrill you with my words

to lay them at your feet

bougainvillea petals

falling free from the stem

with spurious inflorescence

gather them and know they are for you

..

i’ll hide the thorns of course

bury them deep in palm flesh

to seraphic sting, no remorse

with blood droplets

exquisitely smeared across lips

adding

crimson

subtracting

all the reasons why

we cannot be

Primordial

we cling to the underside of the earth

in shadows, eternally fixed

as the world turns

one final time

..

the stifled prophets were right

and I grasp your fingers

to enter the longest night

..

the moon has been cast off

tumbled to a galaxy unknown

Tsukuyomi at last free to dance

unshackled from his lunar throne

..

the glass sea a stagnant pool

settling with miasmic cool

ripples that once were

shall frothy detritus incur

..

we cling to the underside of the world

pupils permanently dilate

ice crystals kissing

our

pallid, primal

state

Fruit

you hang low, plump …inviting

sumptuously spawned in summer sun

fleeting fruit so tempting

luxuriant on lubricious limb

the one

should I pluck you now?

anticipating viscid juices, trickling down my chin

should I wait for fuller flavour?

as it intensifies within

i hesitate with such a thought

i spin you, stem spliced with spiral strain

observing the peachy pirouette

seasonally engorged

to please again

The Bookmark

i am a tattered bookmark

nestling between feathered pages

the best time of your day you say

with coveted book, to read in stages

..

but alone in the light of day

to leave this worded catacomb

i’ll edge away from threaded spine

seeking freedom from paper home

..

so many of your transient reads

have evoked smiles…private tears

i’ve watched them come and go

i the constant,through the years

..

but these pages are not my friends

they constrict with musty damp

so rest me on your bed time lap

there us both, by oiled lamp