Salted

Tears stain short-lived joy
Curtains drawn reveal a void
Show must roll on, ineffably
Worlds and words escape
Only momentarily
Dreams re-invent themselves
Before they take their leave
Forever.

Roar

Howling, terrifying screech
Of wind through corners of the soul,
Around buildings,
Whistling like a demented banshee,
Crying out for the world to stop.

Words are whispered,
Hushed feeling glow and linger,
The fire needs kindling,
And so do we.

The stars ignite,
A dream takes its leave,
The hours slide into shadows,
At least the wind has died down.

The World

Keen to revolve ad infinitum,
Gently spinning, or
Troubled dizzily out of control,
A child's toy,
A madman's dream of power and glory,
Battles scarred her precious skin,
Deep within her azure globe,
Something lethal stirs.

Starlet

So eager, breathless,
She dances herself into a tiny frenzy
At the prospect of some measure of imagined fame.

The milkman had seen her picture
In the paper that held his cod and chips,
And she looked nice.

Much nicer than that piece of fish
And those soggy chips.

Day

Opening up like a wilful flower,
Nothing remains unseen by this light;
Awe-struck, emboldening,
Grasping life by the throat
And kissing its keen brow.

Advance

Walk among the happy few,
That breed of uncommon types
Who sneer at low-level atrophy,
And never stop breathing in
With all their might and never cease
Believing all may be achieved at last.

Be fair, advance and breathe!

Envelop

Creeps, the darkness advances,
entirely wraps itself around my freezing heart,
claw-cloaking to keep out the warmth and light
that yet pushes to reach.

Sleep Time

I rove and roam within my mind;
Awkward zomblie lust-filled mare,
Night digs in deep, deeper still,
And salvation is not close at hand.

I lie awake, dreaming light-beams,
Seemingly a sphere of radiance benign,
Dawns upon a sullen brow,
Too eager, too keen, yet far too old.

Water-clad

Dripping in dewy sunshine droplets
Honey-pearled, wisdom-reared
The creature dreams of dreaming clearly
Of all that it could be
One day, sometime, somewhere.

The river soothes, trickles gladness
Creatures dance and mingle, rock step along
Pools of mirror fantasy
Elongate the soul's pleasure.

The river is always there,
Is always coming,
And is always going away.

Cornerstone

Built my palace on your love for me
Dwelling to befit a divine couple
Of ordinary humans
Touched by a moment of love
And madness
Wrapped up in scrolls of exulted claims
To eternal love
Life unbound, unfettered
By life itself
Beyond it all and reaching even further
To where the grand mansion is located
On the edge, on the shelf
The ridge where we dare not linger.

The Valley

It lay bare and open that day
The words tumbled from our eager tongues
Pleasant whispers, elevated notions
Collided dreams, real-time infotainment
Too nice, too lovely to forget
Even then.

And later that day as evensong cleared
The words become touching
Whispers kisses
And nothing could turn back
The world was ours
And this night alone
We would live forever.

What I Believe

That a poem should be concise and not endless pages long,
And a word should uplift the weary soul, and then soothe.

That if you can you should go for a ride in a balloon,
And forget about what you think of your self altogether.

That the world is a wondrous and terrible place,
And life both beautiful and horrific.

That the intricate secret web of life itself is built upon paradox,
Or perhaps not.

Mountain Daze

Climbed to the peak,
Montserrat, mountain of the Black Madonna,
shrine of cliffs, roof of the world,
with Catalunya stretching out for hundreds of years all around.

While She, regal statuette, lodged high above the altar,
high above the world,
watches over us,
and weeps.

In Dutch

In the Dutch language,
all things seem clear,
and direct,
often brutishly blunt.

No room for prevarication,
or obfuscation, vaccilatory nuance.

They tell it like it is, you see,
Not as they wish it would be.
More refined, slightly more elegant.

Song for an Angel

Sing to me of distant loves,
of enchantress pining for a saviour,
of lectures unattended,
while the young maidens run free,
barefoot through dewy May fields,
in the same places we knew,
only centuries ago.

Vapour

I watched the olde-worldy train pull out
of the weather-beaten station.
Your suitcases and you were on board,
forever departing, and that's how you'll stay.

You left in summer, and the sunshine,
and the green grass and the clean crisp air,
All wanted to leave with you,
and the grime and dust remained.

And so did I.

Creeps

Shadows mark the hazy aura
Of what once was a thought.
That kiss, that pure emotion,
Our sense of needing, wanting bliss.

Now turned into afterthought,
Memory unwelcome,
That creeps us uninvited.

Salamander

Fiery twisted flame dancer,
Stretched toad-reptile,
Underworld reveller,
Your word has never been your bond,
Nor your heart your own to direct.

Foreign masters have you in chains,
And the light does not pervade
Into your better chambers.

Fondness

A whisper in mad morning,
earnest flutterings of an unquiet mind,
forever nearer to what I perceive as glee,
untold memories, linger within.

Soft silver afternoon,
dispensed my former gloom
revived by aeons of not-quite-belonging here,
and thoughts induced of what might have been.

A slinking sense of fondness
for all that was, and myself included,
pervades my inner sanctum now,
and no crow appears too dark,
no heart shows up too scarlet,
as all is as all should be.

Nostalgic Forecast

I walk ablaze in a whirlwind dream
unable to focus on inner mayhem,
Words unravel into tangled webs,
sustain a sense of still-born fear.
Well within the spring inside,
feelings, notions roar.
I wish to sever heart from mind,
and pass through that dark door.

Silence fills a stark-white room
with nothing but remembrance.