Slit

The small square window

Lets in

A brilliant white light

As though one

Had opened

A door onto the sun

The thin rectangular

Window beneath

Is dark grey, almost black

As if one had looked into

The bottomless cavern

Of ones childhood

The cactus on the cill

Tells us

That there is still life

That it is fed

In the times

Of both dark and light

As if we were in need

Of both extremes, and

The continuum between

from the collection
The Curved Ball of an Artists Model
Love Encouraged By the Breakout
Available from itunes by clicking here

Elide

Minus eight degrees

Sky clearer

Than the blue nothingness of infinite bliss

Alongside, a thin strip of finite horizon

The brightest, most brilliant white light, as though

An illicit affair would be any less exiting

Quiet highways

Open their floors before me

Fringed with snow and frost

The worlds trees form the shape of weeping willows

Their untarnished beauty as innocent

As the first fantastic secretive date

In the roadside diner

Hash browns, eggs over easy

Pancakes with maple syrup, before the open roads

Endless travels: sublime distant peaks for guidance

Suggestions of the calmness that came after

The rampant excitement of our first consummation

from the collection
The Curved Ball of an Artists Model
Love Encouraged By the Breakout
Available from itunes by clicking here

Friday Nights

At the top of the house

Above the poetics of space

At a high level with the

Self consciousness

Several floors down to the

Cellars of the unconscious

One attraction, back-along (There were several)

Anyway

Those times between

The window and the wardrobe

When we shared an apparent

Belief in things other than

The rational explanations

Mystifications, swung-along (They where ephemeral)

Our craved fascinations

Which carried the gravitas

Of irrational thought, yet

Required a leap of faith

& called upon desire

To drown her taboos

Simplification, strung-along (I recall the existential & seminal)

Close your eyes

Hold my hand

Think deeply

Go on

Say it

I know exactly what you are thinking

Without complication, down-along (We transferred the memorable)

You

Pick up the telephone

Before the ring tone rings

I

Sing out loud about the joy

Of interstellar communication

Thankful resuscitation, sing-along (We bathed in the questionable)

Warm oils massaged into skin

Listen to - The Amazing Eyes of Rita

Again alone

Though never now alone

Smiles hold, as I turn the final pages

I thank Rollo May for his inspirational book

Man’s Search for Himself (I crave for the suggestion-able)

from the collection
The Curved Ball of an Artists Model
Love Encouraged By the Breakout
Available from itunes by clicking here

Aloft

Only the light of the lava lamp

As I listen to the plucked strings of the lute

Only to know that sleep is still some time away

I say that this writing is my beautiful consolation

Easy to be at ease

While one reaches to the past and to the future

Easily to find escape

From the dark stares of the present

An appeasement not shared

By those not so restful as this one

Relatives perturbed with their pasts

Stormed by heir presents and their futures

I have prepared my own stabilisation

I give it with some confidence to others

I have cathartically worked through millions of words

& still I will always give you the same sad or happy stories

A thousand times or more

Yet always with a misinformed tinge of hope

That one day there may be a reconciliation

Always in the fear of that dash of colour

A deep red rose on the shiny black suit

Also a slice of inferred beauty

In the V neck turquoise sweater

Over an inviting sunburnt breast

Always because we have to settle

I pose with a sense of tranquility

The calm sea to the clear horizon

Always, if able 

I would aim at a hint of playfulness

Such as with the sailboats in the harbour

Yet always in truth I edge towards escapism

For none of us do return, yet some day one of us might

from the collection
The Curved Ball of an Artists Model
Love Encouraged By the Breakout
Available from itunes by clicking here

Plastic Film

There is a photograph

Somewhere in existence

I am the principle subject

Sat quietly, at a kitchen table

It is a small cottage

The afternoon sun filters

Through the high level windows

Past a pair of cockatiel's

The painter’s palettes

Are in a black fold away tin

The water colour painting

Is on a hardboard sheet

My black stonewashed sweatshirt

Is a gift; made in Australia

So the shark logo on the sleeve

Would have you believe

Thin auburn air, and a steady

Stance suggests a gentleness

An innocence that the photographer

Captures with simplistic empathy

All else is lost in my minds articles

Although I do think of orange flowers

I also have an idea of a feint wash

That created a turquoise background

I tell you this in response to another 

Image; from elsewhere in my existence

Where birds are freed from their cage

In search of those self same freedoms

from the collection
The Curved Ball of an Artists Model
Love Encouraged By the Breakout
Available from itunes by clicking here