wading.

I’m standing on an ocean shore
Deserted, alone,
The tide breaks a mile away
Far from me as the sky
I can feel it, heavy, coming,
About to break
Then the thought escapes
And the waves are lapping
Around my waist
An idea; no more than a drop,
A tear, swelling in my mind
I’m dragged below the surf
Neck submerged, into the deep
The doubt comes creeping
Circling beneath ny flailing feet
Teeth bared, eyes darkest black
Surging upwards -
Like a rope in my hands
I feel it slipping
That cord of tension
Strand of fear, knotted
It falls away
I see it, I reach, outstretched
It falls away
I want to hold it back
Maybe I’m onto something
A meaning, a sign
Perhaps I’m not this way
inclined …
A whisper of smoke, its gone
By a swish of curls,
An incandescent smile
And I’m back standing
On this open shore
Clothes dripping, unsure why
And the label is slapped,
On my head, once again
For each grain of sand
To challenge and stare
My feet on dry land,
But my thoughts
Out at sea.

the buzzard.

A beam of light
Through purpled clouds
And there, the buzzard
On his wide wings drifting
Through open air, blushing sky
His lithe frame tilting
No ruler or refrain
Or chains to this crumpled land
Or stone, crevice and creed
And blistered greed
His high cry screeching
Through silence still, of the moors
He’s ever soaring
Higher than the mountains call
Gripped in his claws
The life before, of prey
He crushes, fair price to pay
For an endless day of
Sweeping, diving
Defying gravity and gale
No grasp can hold him
His deep, scarred eyes
Scour every valley, peak and rise
He misses nothing
The power, rippled in his bones
And feathers, stream-line
Fast and lonely
Existence adapted, perfected
To fly above and beyond
This lowly ground
His own master, a beauty crowned
In humble gold and brown.

that voice.

I could drown in the sound
Of her melancholy voice
So mellow and deep
I can feel that cool liquid running
Down the walls of my throat, as I listen
And scull in solemn words, sombre tones
My heart is soothed, my eyes slowly close
Not a murmur escapes my lips as they part
And allow the flood to fill my aching lungs
My the thirst, quenched,
By the rise and fall of every note
Her voice could melt the hardest ice, reduce glass
To the very grains of sand from whence it came.
I could drown in the luscious sounds
Of her melacholy voice
As wide, exposed as the ocean on
A clear winter’s night
Yet her gaze can set the rain alight
Each drop of water, cascading
Over rocks and glistening peaks
Glorious, they rest in cloud’s embrace
As her voice soars to touch the highest point,
Ever reaching to drown my mortal self,
Or something more,
Something more than this life.

lament to love.

oh, love!
consume me
such a time has passed
my mind, a soundless void
i am lost without you
no drive, ambition
no dreams to strive for
i wander along a path
aimlessly
calling your name
my being, soul in itself
so meaningless, existence
here i am
there is nothing i am worth
should i lack you in my heart
this path, once moonlight silver
a mirror, water's edge
my soles caressed the surface
single roses drifting
towards that inky blue
now, each petal sinking
whilst i travel, no companion
alone, always searching
clawing in the dark
strike me, if you must
just to know your presence near
mere corpse, hence my stillness
without your gushing blood to fill
writhe in my gaping wounds, do not hide!
i crave your presence at my side
save me, while your mercy shines
for life is but, an empty ocean
without love to swell the tide.

centre of the sun.

a mother sits
at the centre of the sun
the taste of bread
texture of silk
sound of rain, lost to her
the only darkness found
in the depths of her gaze

she cradles her child
so still, he rests
small head on her chest
one hand holds him tightly
the other clenched in his hair
so still, never cries
neither dead nor alive
his heartbeat fading
she clings to the lie

the heat rages
clear flames are relentless
burning in the skies
scalding blanket softly smothers
dry ground; it aches with thirst
as the boy is gently prised
from a slowly dying grasp

the mother holds on
not scorching heat
not the anger of the storm
not the men that ate her flesh
nor the women filled with scorn
will take her child away

the flickering breeze
carried the whispers
of her sentence
inevitably damned
but the dream of her smiling boy
could never be taken
never stolen
despite the world
with all its difference
and all its charm

she waited
child in arms
at the centre of the crowd
for the first stone
piece of rock to be thrown
let them come.