Friday, December 29, 2017

Submissive's Prayer No 2

Obedience was not
Enough for you.
In an Orwellian fantasy
You demanded
Suffering too.

Suffering to
Bend my will
As on bended
Knees, I wait
In silence

As if the trinity
Of obedience
Suffering and silence
Would a saintly
Submissive, make me

Sunday’s of singing
Sermons of damnation
Sex today traded
For future
Salvation

Instead, I’ll
Take the sex
I may not be
Submissive, or
Saintly

But I prefer
The breathing
Of ecstasy
To this silence
Of Salvation


Thursday, December 28, 2017

Submissive's Prayer - No 1


I kneel
I wait
Forgive me
Father
I speak

Master
You called
My name
I wait
To serve

I wait
Your blessing
The hardness
Of ecstasy
To release

La petite mort
Of oblivion
Union enjoined
With you
Complete

I seek
salvation
Father, Master
I wait
Your release

I wait,
Waiting
In silent
Empty
Stillness

Forgiveness
Denied,
Service ignored
Speech unheard
Ecstasy frustrated

Was it me?
Was it you?
Silence
Remains

Unbroken

Sunday, December 24, 2017

The Intimate Stranger


I ask you
How you are.
But don’t
Answer me
I don’t want
The burden
Of knowing
It’s not that
I’m callous, I
Just don’t care

Gift me
The intimacy
Of your body
Let me
Explore its
Geography
By senses
Touch and smell
Don’t talk
Don’t tell

Words, weigh
Me down
Flagellating me
Flaccid with
Their sound
Be quiet
Let me rise
Hard and proud
And plough your
Spaces in silence

Spent, let me
Hold you
In the stillness
While our
Souls draw
Breath
Then leave my
Bed, not quite
A stranger, an
Intimate stranger


Saturday, December 23, 2017

Mysteries No 4


Light

I wake
Watching
Leaves caressed
Shimmer
A rustling
Waterfall of
Green and gold
As sunlight
Not yet hardened
Into ferocity
Weaves its way
Through them

If the Unknown
Is light, I hope
They are, of  
The morning light
A caressing light
That laces
Its way
Around me
Weaving its
Presence, in
The shadows
Of my life

I have
Grown tired
Of men’s
Ferocities
Their heat
Claiming the light
To hide
Insecurities
I need
My shadows
Those cool
Still places

My shadows
Places I hide
Spaces where
Light does not
Penetrate
Perhaps,
Salvation is in
The shadows
Soul spaces
Hidden
From the

Light 

Wednesday, December 20, 2017

Mysteries No 3

Love

Love is patient
So, Paul says
I think he got
It wrong

It is us, who
Must learn
To wait, to
Patient be

Instead, anxious
Aggrieved
Agitated
We doubt

Convinced
We are wrong,
That love has
Passed us by

Yet love
Is by our side
Silent
In its embrace

We want
The love
We are convinced
We want

Yet love
Gives us
The love
We need

We need the
Patience, to wait
To see, the
Love, we need.

Patience to
Settle into
Love’s embrace
Knowing

We are love
For love, has been
Patient

Waiting for us.

Mysteries No 2

Water

I was baptized
Twice
Fully immersed
Once in faith
Twice in death

The first was
A fantasy
Faith faltering
Deteriorating
As droplets dried

Conviction bleeding
Out into guilt.
Guilt grown weary
Withering into
Wistful doubt.

Faith, in its
Going, left
A shadow
But death is made
Of sterner stuff

No sooner had
Your ashes scattered
You grabbed
The waves and
Rolled them back

Immersing me
You embraced me
One last time
Ashes scattered
Ashes inhaled

Your essence
Given back with
Grief to life
Burnt its way
Into me

You came from me
In a moment of love
And in your going
You gave yourself
Back to me

In the water
Life’s circle
Is complete
As I gave you life,
You gave me death



Monday, December 18, 2017

Mysteries No 1

Silence  

Silence
As loud as
A leaf falling
The pervading
Stillness, that
Stops

The endless
Waterfall of
Words, spilling
Into time
Halted, wilted
Withered

Mystery found
In the stillness
Between the seconds
Time quietened
Eternity seeping
Into silence

I stand in
This silence
Before the
Stillness
Surrounded
By quietness

As the leaf
Falls in silence
I fall into
The stillness
Of the eternal
Mystery

Falling, I fall
Into mystery
The stillness
Of the eternal
The place

Where I am

Sunday, December 17, 2017

Loss


It’s leaving
Was wistful.
Noticed more
Gone, than in
The going.

Dogma dulled
As doubt’s
Inevitability
Eroded creedal
certainty

Prayers, first
Abbreviated,
Grew silent
Tired of
Echoing words

I do not
Grieve my loss
Gritted memories
Of a more
Gullible time

Yet still, some
Sunday evenings
In the silence
I hear those
Echoes of

Faith’s blind
Certainty, her
Blissful confidence
In the inclusion of
Being the called

Somewhere
On this journey
At some point
I lost my faith,
Yet,

I am not lost
For in the loosing
I have learnt,
To be content in
Uncertain doubt


Friday, December 8, 2017

The Wall


The sunlight, dances
On your cheek

You think, I am
Psychoanalysing you

What I cannot speak
Silent must remain

The tremor of
Time warping
Fractures reality
Or is it
Fantasy?

Did once
I know you?

Did once, we
Dance with
Swords?

Cold kiss
Of metal, penetrating
What desire
Could not do

Your fierceness
Unabated, grown
More subtle
Over years

Now you
Penetrate
With words
These walls
Of mine

We waltz
With glances
Heated with
Desire, and
Laugh to cover
Our lust

Where once
Your sword
Slit me
Now words
Undo me

The sunlight dances
On your cheek

While I retreat
Behind this wall
Of mine

What I want to say

Silent must remain.

Saturday, December 2, 2017

Hyde Park


Leaves tinseled
With sunlight
Whisper above me
While wisps of
Wind frolic
Amongst branches
Swaying in
Symphonic irritation

I lie below
Reflecting
What is above
Not the tinselling
Or the frolicking
Nor the whispering
But the
Symphonic irritation

The symphonic
Irritation of
Nerves stretched
Taunt, over strung
And tightened
Twang against
The metallic tones
Of muted skies.



Thursday, November 30, 2017

The Whisperer


He sits
Beside me
Lithe of limb
Liquid eyes
Pools of brown

Probing with a
Stillness, searching
Through the
Skins of
My masquerade

Words tumble
Against my teeth
Swallowing, I
Force them
Down

While he
Watching my
Swirling thoughts
Waits
In silence

While I
To stop from
Slipping, stroke
Grey wool, to
Ground myself

And I wonder,
I wonder
What he thinks
In silence
As he waits


This whisperer
Who, lithe
Of limb, and
Eyes of brown
Sits beside me

While words
Tumble against
My teeth
I, with a sigh
Have learnt

I have learnt
To smile, to dance
To keep
The veil

Of the masquerade

Monday, November 27, 2017

Spaces



I hear the silence
The space

Between breaths
As our lips meet

The unspoken intensity
Of aloneness parading
As passion, gulping
At your breaths

I hear the stillness
The space

Between your
Heart beats

The eternity
Of longing
In the spaces
Between the beating

In the silence
In the stillness
In the spaces
I am naked

We clothe ourselves
With kisses, synchronizing
Heart beats calling
It love

But love I find
In the stillness

Before I kiss
In the spaces

Of our hearts
And in the silence

The silence

Of our spaces

Saturday, October 28, 2017

This Angel on my Shoulder


He sits in silent contemplation
Monochrome white
His stillness unperturbed
By the serrated energy
Of my life

Wing covered eyes
He waits in silent grief
When tears creep
Through the hooded lids
Of my eyes

He sits in
Homochromatic
Weightlessness
In colours
Before him
I cannot hide

The pounding
And the heart beat
Of men I have held
Leave him
Unperturbed.

He knows
My deepest longing
To find
Not love, but
The difficult simplicity
Of myself

This angel
On my shoulder
Sits and contemplates
And waits, till
I chose not to hide

And sometimes,
Just sometimes
Through these
Hooded tears of mine
He reaches out
To touch me

To tell me
In the whispering
Silence
It is enough
To be myself
Surrounded by
The wings
Of an angel
On my shoulder

____________________________________________
My thanks to Neil from Hoodedwept whose passion and love for his creative clothing providing the inspiration for this poem.  Thank you


Wednesday, October 25, 2017

A Mothers Love


She expelled me
With great relief
On lookers say
With pride and joy
That says more
Of them
Than her

Her joy
Was my expulsion
Her pride
She had them fooled
But I swam in
Her Artic waters
I knew her rage

I kept my balls
Locked from her
Castrating gaze
Our love was best
At a distance
Silence, our language
Of choice

The years ground
Ground us down
The perfume
Of her depression
Clung to my being
And long before
Her leaving

I left for my
Survival.  Our parasitic
Relationship severed
I was the son
She did not want
She the mother

I did not need

The Insomniac


The dark grips
And prizes open
Flickering eyelids
To stare
Into
Silence

Dreams recede
Slowly, the
Aftertaste of
Memory, though
Uncertain and unsure
Realities hallucination

Silence shattered
The monotonous
Hooting of a
Random owl
Like the whining
Of a Grindr hook up

They say to
Count breaths
Monotony to
Dull the mind
To slip, once more
To sleep

It never works
I need the scent
Of the memory
Of your body,
Your breath
Your lips

Your…….

Saturday, October 14, 2017

I suppose


Long of limb
He straddled me
I suppose we could
Have talked
But words by then
Were redundant.
Texted agreements
Bent by desire
Reflected intention
But not reality
For ecstasy
Entered, transforms
The certainty of meanings
Until we returned
To the shore
Of our beings
Spent, satiated
And our selves
Separated once more
Reclothed, re-entered
Our different
Realities


Sunday, October 8, 2017

Words


Words, slice
With the
Quiet incisiveness
Of paper cuts.
Knifing the
Scabby crusts of
Of recollections

Scarified memories
Murmur in
Mutiny at the
Sound. While
Slumbering skeletons
Shake, disturbed by
The tone,

Of fretful anxiety
And reasons hastily
Vomited into
Interpersonal space
Drawing breath
Masquerading for
Listening.

While the
Mask of niceness
Leeches rage
That God should
Maintain silence
Subjecting her, to
The indignity of uncertainty

And my
Slumbering skeletons
Memories of
Maternal Medusa
Sigh and subside
While alcohol

Swabs the cuts

Tuesday, October 3, 2017

The Theatre


They played
Their parts
These parts of me
Parts of me
That were not me
Yet, perhaps
They were.
These shadows
Shades of memory
Congealed with
Fear and repetition
Skeletons of shame
Solidified, strutted
Across the stage
Of me

But I
Have grown tired
Of theatrics
And of tricks
Of parts and pieces
Sewn and stitched
With threads of guilt
The quilt of the parts
Doesn’t warm
The heart

So, forgive me
If I do not applause
And yet,
Yet, the parts
They played
Their part
They kept me
In the play
Till life
Could take

The part

Sunday, September 24, 2017

The Film


Standing in the corner
Amongst the bohemian
Brotherhood of buddies.
And wine laced laughter
I pass you.

I pass you again
As lips, with
Subtle sensuality
Kiss the body
Of Shiraz

We sit, while
Strangers unknown
Play life’s dramas
In the safety
Of a screen

We sit,
Strangers, you and I
Then miss
Each other
In the leaving

Yet seeing
We saw each other
Perhaps that was enough
Perhaps, but
Perhaps not


Friday, September 22, 2017

The intimacy of anonymity

Be silent
Do not speak
Nor whisper
Your name
Its weight
I cannot
Carry

Don’t burden me
With your
Weight of history
Your body
In my arms
Is all
I can bear

Your tears
Do not
Move me
As our sweat
Trickles and
Pools in puddles
Between us

Be silent
Let seconds
Merge, as our
Bodies fuse
And breathe
Blends in
Muted moans

Then go
Unknown, back
Into your skin
Pick up
Your history
Leave me in
Intimacy, unknown





Sunday, September 17, 2017

This inconvenient age


I should perhaps
Act my age.
Begin to settle
Into stultifying
Safeness.
The endless looping
Of mindless stories
To reassure that once
I held some relevance

Perhaps I should
Act my age
Accept with ungracious
Chagrin the things I missed
And smile with
Jealous maliciousness
At youth’s reckless
Gluttony of life.
Perhaps I should

But perhaps I won’t
For this is an inconvenient age
When chronology and attitude
Are at their antagonist best
While chronology creeps
At light speed
The insipient rebellion
Of youth blooms with
Flagrant disregard

At this inconvenient age
I will waltz
With the devil, and
Drink Bacchus’ cup
A broken heart
Is freed from fear
Its fragments resilient
Can carry regrets
Without fear of hell


Saturday, September 16, 2017

Fog


It creeps surreptitiously
Choking dawns arrival
While dreams flickering
Play on screens
Of neural emptiness

Colour and diversity
Bleached into
Ethereal whiteness
Realities edges
Blunted

Birds wait in the
Suffocating sameness
While silence sighs, it’s
Aria of stillness
And dreams flickering

Fade
As day, stealthy
Creeps into the
Crevasses of sleeps
Blissful emptiness


Saturday, September 9, 2017

Mown Grass


I crossed with
Mindless haste
Intent on fashion
Or, to be more precise
The salesman of the fashion

Somewhere half way across
The pungent scent assaulted
The odour of cut grass
Offended that its fecundity
Should now, impotent die

Then realising where I was
I saw those lines
Marked black
Straight lines
Tests of masculinity

Pubescent boys
Who ran
Straight and fast
Gained the accolades
Men in the making

While insects rose
Before me
In choruses of
Orgasmic delight
Feeding on decaying grass

I, in stepping
Out the lines
Remembered
The shame, of
Always coming last



Friday, September 8, 2017

Moments


The pressure of his hand
Anxiously uncertain
The sinewy sensuousness
Of quadriceps rising
To kneel in
Supplication or adoration
Ambiguously unknown

The warm toxicity
Of breath
Eyes searching
The boundaries
Of the face,
For some tenuous flare
Of recognition

Time eclipsed
In the masked ball
of reversed reality
Where nakedness is
Revealed but not
The intimacy of
Our name

Moments,
Fragments
Of time hunted
With Erotic intensity
The weight of bodies
Then elided from the day
Held in memory



Monday, September 4, 2017

Love's Distance


From afar
He said
I love you

He meant it
At least, he believed
He meant it

The residual afterglow
Of the friction
Of bodies

Warmth
Mistaken
For love

Pupils dilated
Search the contours
Of our faces

His history
Just beginning
Mine etched in lines

I love you
He said
Hoping it was true

But ours
Was a case
Of mistaken identity

He the youth
I might have been
I the man he might be

Too much distance
Too much hope
Too much fear

I love you
He said, with
Perfunctory politeness

I smiled
Knowing
Love’s distance


Friday, September 1, 2017

Same - Same


Once more
The barricades
Are built, and
Words hammered
Into one dimensional
Weapons.
Complexities are
Flat-lined into
Slogans
And flags unfurled

Men, who in
Humbler times
Acknowledge the
Unknowability
Of the mind of God
Assume the arrogance
Of God above God
And claim to know
The mind of
The Unknowable.

The foundations
Of society
Threatened by
A definition
Rather than
Our rage,
Our greed
Our failure of compassion

I have walked
These paths before
And smelt the
Sulphuric acidity of
Men’s impotent rage
That their fire and brimstone
Did not pillars of salt make
Of all the poofters in the place.
Instead in their fear
They shouted
As if that
Would send us
All to hell

Beneath the clamour of
The shouting
I hear the silent sound
Of grieving
Hope interned
In the mound of
Broken hearts
The dove of peace
Flown once more
And love
Cremated in anger’s fury

When will we learn?
When will we bow
In humility before
The diversity in creation

And accept
The diversity in humanity



Wednesday, August 30, 2017

Where are you now?


Where are you now?
Since you left

I have learnt
To live
With the dull ache
Of the absence
Of your substance

Where are you now?
Since you left

The reverberation
Of your laughter
Echoing
In the empty spaces
Of my heart

Where are you now?
Since you left

Still I crave
The sunshine
To be dulled
By your shadow’s
Eclipse

Where are you now?
Since you left

Strong bud
Not fully bloomed
Life forming
Not yet set by
Time’s calcification

Where are you now?
Since you left

Eight years
Have gone by
Since we
Kissed goodbye

You are gone my son

Beauty


Beauty
Flickers
In fluid form
For incandescent
Seconds

While I
In mesmerised
Stupor, seek
To immortalise
In memory

What I should
Have learnt by now
That beauty
Can’t
Be.

Yet still, with
Impetuosity
And a fools folly
I reach out
To touch, to hold

To gaze, while
Beauty flicking
Across his face
Smiles, knowing
My desire



Sunday, August 27, 2017

Words 2017

After so long not posting or writing, it is wonderful to feel the urge once again to write poetry.  The below is a rusty first after such a break to get back into the way of writing.




Words……..constipated
By lack of use
Collapse into black holes
Of neural spaces

Imagination
Withered and wrinkled
A prune like kernel
Shrivelled into goat turd consistency

Still…I feel
The tide begin to stir
Seeping through capillaries
The hint of creative ability returns

The silence of survival
Begins to crumble
Once more I feel
His breath

He, who waited
In still silence
Waiting….for me
The muse of words