On The Edge Of Dreams

Cereals and hallucinations

On the edge of dreams

And dangerous situations

As the rainbow skies grieve

The piano plays a soft sonata

Blue is up, and now I leave

Woken moments

Stolen times of long ago

Celebration that’s the word I’m after

Broken binds

Wheel the fault-lines of sorrow

Footprints in sand, clay, silica, snow

Sat on the veranda

Down in the Savannah

Prints of indelible flowers

Insoluble

Earth mother

Surely to show

Snow melts

On the photograph

Steam comes to life

Sliding down the walls

Words on wires

A message to laughter

Frigid with frustration

Madness, caught out

In isolation

Hallucinatory progress

From the bedhead

On the edge of dreams

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Without Pavements

The piano played

The sun rose

Frost covered

The forest

And the moor

Down

Into the shade

Slowly up the hill

Congested

Single roads

Without pavements

Around the corner

Into the vista

The whole world

Before we go

Over the horizon

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Is It Fair To Thank You

Is it fair

To say thank you

For this broken heart

Without such pain

I may have forgotten

The passion

The exceptional

Gifts of love

Of sensual sensation

Moved by words

By pictures

By place

By time

By the moment

Of images

Imagined

Splashes of water

Autumn leaf’s falling

Winter’s morning

Snow 

Ice

Frost

Sun

Into recovery

To lose hold

Of the intensity

Inarticulate insensitivity

Of bruise

Of tear

Of rip

Scratch

Torment

Gouge

Bully 

Betray

Pray

If to hold

To be so bold

To be so so soon

Time

For more to life

Yet left alone 

Alone to discover

Fair it is

In fact I insist

Thank you

I say, thank you

For my broken heart

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The Oasis Of Escape

There’s a turn up for the book:

That monasteries began

As an oasis

An escape from the submission

To the solitude of

The desert

And now

In search of peace

Drawn to the solitude

Drawn to the monastery

From the oasis of escape

That is life

Why leaf

Where riot

Why peace

Where quiet

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Would The Words Be Colder

If this was a bigger book

Would they be longer poems

If this was a slower fuck

Would you lose your lusted loins

If this was a railway platform

Would the words be colder

If this was by the ladies dorm

Would your lips be bolder

If this was beyond right now

Would there be no further

If this was outside of how

Would there be no murder

If this then all came good

Would I have to end myself

If this we truly understood

Would the story tend to delve

If this, not for me

Then for anyone

Would this then, that you

You could be the one

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