Cusp of Sea

Cobalt blue, cusp of sea

Remember

Remember

Remember me

Wave tops, roll mops

Rescue

Rescue

Rescue me

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Aspiring Form

Aspiring form

Magic numbers

I could not find a rhyme

I searched my mind

And stumbled upon a rumba

Or was it a rhombus parallelogram

An imaginary rabbit

Occurred through some simulation

The magic words

I’d heard

It caught my imagination

Misfired

I’d aspired once again to slumber

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Read by Delacroix

But you got no reaction

Not a single missing beat

In fact the breath was less

Less than a distant tantric bless

So it’s time to stop the reason

The seasons past and full

Her emotions have been gathered

Gathered up for the cull

The breath was not held

Ever less and seldom welled

The conversation was lukewarm

Lukewarm going on dull

And in between the spaces

Where once lay hope and joy

Now, there, in between the spaces

Lies less hope than read by Delacroix

Can this break the bond that binds and blinds

The empty sound to shatter, splatter scattered minds

Silent chords to carve, to cut some umbilical heave

Deceive time wasted, receive tasted hope to believe

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Gave, given

I gave up all I had

I almost gave up alcohol

I gave up friends and family

I almost gave up rock and roll

I gave up any expectation

I almost gave up sexual strolls

I gave up dare and doing

I almost gave up blues and soul

I gave up thought and conversation

I almost gave up waves that rise and fall

I gave up more than this and all

The day my love you stole

You have given up on friendly pretending

You almost had me sold

You have given up on futures intending

You almost turned me cold

You have given up on dreams extending

You almost cast me in your mould

You have given up on pleasures lending

You almost dried my love juice, up there in the fold

You have given up on letters sending

You almost stole the words I’ve scrawled

You have given up more than this and all

The day our love wasted, haste turned new to old

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Pretty words and parting flowers

Then I rationalise it as jealousy

Making sense with no sense

There was I’m quite certain, there was a shaky feeling

I have been misled, for certain, or were you dealing

Pretty words and parting flowers

Remembering the movies, remembering ‘The Hours’

When the balance began, began by getting lost

The red mist, angers languor, senseless loss

I sensed loss at any cost

Driving at midnight, up country over a fault free line

Up country; simmer’s settle, thought process fettled

The madness mellows, wallows in the moonshine

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