Silent Seas
Some time and a little care
Bolstered high and forbearing no quiet moment
To squeeze upon the shore
An infinity of shape
Delighful and opaque
Confected ululations upon a vagrant heart
Satrap embrace
Brought convivial privilege
Across a languid lawn
Stretched forlorn and equivocal
Far from meandering sentience
Steering a path straight and true
Half-way to paradise
Sometimes I wish I was a penguin
Flying under the waves of silent seas
Upon a path wet with unprocessed filigree
He shunted his neighbour's wife for a bucket of humming bees
Her purple tongue moaning with faint ullulation
Swallowing yesterday's consternation
Upon a river going nowhere at all
Shone like a mirror dark and gilded on the wall
Empty with no reflection
What storm before the fall
Centaur Aloft
Sun you under a sultry sky
Riddled with shame and quiet grief
Stretched between strands of contentment
Like a sigh she sat
And run upon by winds
Contained all imagination
Frailty forgone and caste aside
She stood contumacious at the wall
Her shape resistant but finessed
Pondered a second take, then
Meandered slowly on
Wistfully becalmed upon ideas from another time
Beep beep beep
City boy
City boy sitting in far away places
Where the past flies buried unseen
Found deep in forgotten traces
Remnants of deeds untold
Skin is the only thing I'm in I'm in
Was all he could think or swim
Upon her ocean's tender sleep
Pernicious waffle she says will be the making of a tale too tall to tell
Too small to sell
But turned on a whisper
Whose breath entranced appetite’s fading whim
And before shards of exhausted light did melt
The sight of her percussive sensibility
She learned of her sister’s art
And found the test too lame to stir her sorry heart
Like rippling curtains of colour
Across a darkly dormant land
Her Being scatters
Intimations of fine feelings
And impossible delight
While undoing all her fixtures
Easing into yet another wave of possibilities
Always at the lip of Spring
Fitting her infinity into tiny cups
Of pretty porcelained passion
And with the wings of memory
We dress our earth-bound self
Soaring to imagination's clear light
The rise of the bell
In short sharp steps
Sent rivers of blame
Into high dark sets
Tumbling down on her wicked ways
Till an unrepentant
To its dying day
Sliding past floors
Unvisited in night's bright trespass
Leaner than long
And sweeter than strong
Standing as One they stared
But no tension could find
No awkward surmise
Could lead them away
From heaven
Succinct in serenity
She walks toward me
Her heart unloaded with clouds
The sadness of memories
Unstained and quite free
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Spare breeze on a hill
Mere holiday
Around five in the afternoon
Nothing in sight but plenty to come
A bloke I’d known for awhile
Had left town
After his girlfriend laid him low
Too bad
Oh please don’t touch me
She said
It’s not safe anymore
Feelings are coming through
Way too fast
But the tide is in
The day is just begun
Retracing steps through an unfamiliar landscape
No echo
I look inside and it is beautiful
Today tomorrow and yesterday
When nothing but the speech of strange tongues
Could feather away the dust of indolence
And pepper up a taste for savoury relations
Orange lozenge brightly bevelled Momently still before an aching sigh Cornered with ease Her delicate smile It’s gleam untempered Sentiment thinly woven Before an arc of winter’s triumph Swept across her brow Breathless and parched So sense of the line across Narrow jangles seas But travelled on Blind and forgiving Upon an incoming tide And close upon breath’s flight Into places beyond delicacy She merely shone her sharp-edged sensibility Glaring indelible Wishing only for another spark Sharp upon a moonlit man Waiting waiting Expectant Hungry for saturation’s Inevitable chagrin Stripped aside and ginger of excess Lay down Then forgotten
Ripped apart by unseasonable temptations She stepped like a whisper Into the howl of a gale Tossed upon a bedlam sea She dreamed a life entire Of candlesticks and turtledoves And sweet fulfilled desire But merely courteous His lips steel Feigned a monstrous sympathy To ooze worthless sentience Upon her fearful eye
OOMLA MULL For from that smoky blossom It doth ever wind its way Through landscape and high-fanned theatre Forged in memory’s deep reserves Finding sweet tendrils of velvet access To evening’s breath It’s a world of whats and whys and whens But the wise keep their heads When inquisition would drive them To curiouser and curiouser imaginings So like a hungry dog it did fell its chastened form To savour a shape forever born Until when Onto her lively set he chanced Eyes all agog and sang its fruitful tune Moolla mulla mool oomla mull