Thursday, January 25, 2018

Afternoon


The train
Races past
Suspended on
Tracks of steel
Schedules to keep

While we lie
In silence
Seconds
Slipping by
Suspended schedules

Surrounded by
Stillness
Touch lingers
To stretch
Out time.




Monday, January 22, 2018

Morning


Sunlight undulated
With sensuous delight
Across the surface
Bird song
Punctured the
Stillness, 
The river
Slowed to a
Walking pace
Staring
As your presence

Pressed against me

Saturday, January 20, 2018

This Dancing Life - for Matthew

This Dancing Life – For Matthew

It is the devil’s
Dancing season
When Persephone
Rises, spitting
Pomegranate pips

And Demons
Track the
Path of pips
Leeching into
This time

Succubus’s stalk
Scratching, sucking
At scabs of memories
Grown starving
In the shadows

Persephone, you
Did not bring the spring
You never do
Each year,
A resolution
To endure.

And so, we dance
The devil and I
We dance,
Embraced
Again

But I have
Learnt to
Dance with
The devil
And dance

We will

I will dance
Till the
Ferryman
Arrives.
I will

Dance
On the boat
Of the Ferrymay
Until we reach
Those shores

When Matthew
Meets me
We will dance
He and I, again
In love’s embrace

We will dance
Into eternity
Life begun
Life endured
Life lived

The dancing
Season
Will then
Be

done

Wednesday, January 17, 2018

Sorry


He leant across
And kissed me
It was a
Narrow space
Yet so far
He said
I’m sorry.

I wished
He hadn’t,
Hadn’t said
I’m sorry
I was glad
For the kiss
It took me back

He was in pain
Mine, he didn’t see
Mine wasn’t
His to see
I’d buried mine
Behind the veils
Within my heart

Yet with
That kiss, he
Tore the veil
Reminding me
Of other days
Infused and tinged
With wisps of hope

He said
I’m sorry
I knew, he
Didn’t want to
Hurt, how could
I tell him,
Life hurts enough

Now I have
A memory
The warmth
Of his lips
And I promise
Myself,
Tomorrow

I will dig
Again,
And bury
His kiss behind
The veils
Within
My heart



Tuesday, January 2, 2018

This Season


This season
With nonchalant
Disregard for
Summer’s pleasure
Stalks once more
Across the
Floor boards
Of my soul

New year’s passing
Barely cold
The old returns
With strident
Insistence, suffocating
Intention and
Slicing scars
With precision

Once more
In summer’s heat
I wait the
Thawing of
Hoary fingered
Icicles clutching
Ventricles of
A wounded heart

I shut
My eyes
In case the
River Styx
Should seep
Amongst those
Who have not
Stood in its tide

But I have stood
In the River Styx
I have waited, and
Waited for
The ferryman
Listening to the
Rasping of
His oars

Each year
This season
He comes
To remind me
Of what he took
And I wait
For he will come

For me