Walking

“How long have we been walking?” I asked turning back into the fuggy darkness.

There was no response, just the faint sound of a branch breaking in the undergrowth as if the silence were furtively retreating.

I blew warm air on my gloved hands and looked at them with irritation as if it were their fault they couldn’t stay warm.

Looking down at my own footprints in the cold mud, and then all around me as if in disbelief, I wondered who I had been directing my question to.

Was I thinking that out loud or did I really think somebody was here?

Surely there was somebody just here, somebody who had come all this way with me in these conditions, otherwise how could I have done it alone?

The answer to that question quickly became irrelevant as I now started considering where exactly I was and the new question was “where the heck am I?”

This time I was sane enough to think it in my head although it seemed loud enough in there to startle me a little.

Or maybe it was the slight fear that I had to ask the question in the first place that startled me.

What a bother I am in, surely.

 

Steel

Faced a world of clattering steel have I,

Kissed the horrors that couldn’t let me die,

Bonded with curses that pierced my roving eye,

Upon a powdery bed of bones my heart’s stifled cry,

Why?

I swing a dastardly weapon with a thirsty edge,

Wooing enemies with long toothed grins into my bed,

The sound of thunder and drums booms flirting with the end,

It was mine long before theirs oh if I could only smile and pretend,

And then?

Decimation would surely come,

The winged creatures would plummet from above,

Into the subliminal wilderness tumbling from my shove,

Lying in a shallow grave with the others I’ll lick my wounds when I’m done,

What of love?

15:30 Cup of Tea

Once the lid lifts the emptiness can but escape…

The essence rises disappearing into the senses,

I’m open…

Boiled to perfection by waters that cleanse as a matter of decency,

This particular pot is for contemplation,

Is this me?

Hello…

A cupful for us both then, well met I’d say,

No sugary vagaries we’re natural in this madness,

Been at this tea party before,

Just not so with such company…

And not ever with this wild special blend,

It has me gingerly reaching,

Towards the light…but I am so alive…

Feeling,

The inside of a burnt black pot,

What an odd place to hide?

No more,

You too said so, promised on your lips,

That taste is bewitching, like cinnamon sprinkled childhood,

A whole forest on my tongue, the little leaves rustle…

In that last sip there they are,

Looking like they want to be rescued,

And I would oblige them if I wasn’t in such fine company,

They can wait, I say and I agree too…

My needs are clear…

From now on, you all pay for your own coffee…

Rabbit Eyes

I

The wind has been whistling beneath my feet,

Tickling me into shivers as I chase mine out in the street,

I don’t look too far nor stray in any away,

But I feel my wonder canter wherever my disposition will play,

I roam with unmeasured intent like a falling leaf,

Just staying afloat waiting for the down to bring relief,

Since I’ve left my tree I’ve lived each night for each day,

Pulling the strings with the crystalized blotches on display…

II

It feels like I need keys to hark back to,

Keys to open me up to what they say true,

These flittering things that protest to know me,

As they hold on snugly and reduce me to what I used to be,

It actually seems that changing tides will not wash through,

With time slowly drowning maybe they have only made me see askew,

Through the haziness of the bubbles that captured the dreams I set free,

The ones I was so sure that if I pursued on my own would fill me with glee…

III

They riddle me with shame as they burn in my heart,

They ridicule me in blame when I don’t learn and fall apart,

I saw it in those Rabbit Eyes as we met so unexpectedly while crossing,

My brother’s heroin bent instincts were to flee without stopping,

But love haunts the wicks in the depths of his soul shaft,

Just as I am haunted by his face I see on those lost,

Ambling vagrants outside in the wind tossing,

Wondering if any of this is worth stopping…

 

Fallen

Fallen.
A poem from a wounded warrior lying prone on a desert’s vast audaciousness,
A crying silence of appeal that itself stretches for the horizons,
Screams without talking,
For all who were here have been cut down, like death was never more contagious than this,
One hand still clutching as if reaching for the sun rising,
His soul will be day walking…
Shimmering against the blades of dry grass threatening the sky to drop its basement,
Changing hues dance to the music of the beating sun,
Her melodies scorching,
The warrior’s place fades as his memories bleed out on the very ground he is facing,
There is nothing left he is blinded in her and his war is done,
He will be remembered as tortured…
Although,
Not by that gawking lizard gaudy in his guise against the desert’s blandness,
A false witness whose truth is as natural as it is sinister,
But what does it know of the wounded,
Or those who fight against others when they could be united in their sadness,
Maybe it is just the finisher,
Who could have assumed it?

Rains on the Plains

I heard a whispering that sounded like thunder on the horizon,

A gentle power heard with eyes that seek,

It is with ears that don’t speak that I try to fathom the lightning,

To perfectly catch a strike sometime before I sleep,

There’s a storm that’s being brewing to the pounding of hearts,

This melting of contemplations I’ve had for days,

What I’ve been thinking has been a drizzle long forgotten in these parts,

Some sort of drought that interrogates the feelings unpaid,

The clouds they weep as I stand on them with bare feet with hard soles,

They wring out the old tales told by the ghosts in the plains,

In the folds of the sky my dreams they deny what they have been told,

As the drumming silence slips through my hands with the pain…

 

 

Sailing Across a Sea of Dreams

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Sailing across a sea of dreams,

Where everything possible glitters and shimmers,

Upon violet waters where time seems to be still in constant dawning…

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Tides swell and carry me forth,

I rouse in their rhythms with a daintiness that flatters,

Squinting unperturbed at that which is my heart’s eternal yearning…

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My strings are pulled taunt,

The sails forcibly flapping as winds chime through my veins,

Mastered to attention I head unsighted with promise that in itself is rewarding…

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I carve a path where fleets have sunk,

The froth of the waters splashed across my wrinkled bows,

I will see no reason or heed no warning while my passion is burning…

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The brewing storm couldn’t even quell,

Douse my fires or completely obscure my path to her,

I’m lost on these perilous waters and yet still I feel no reason for worth turning…

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Back to lands that have been scorched to a cinder,

Memories of slain hopes that now fertilise the roots of understanding,

There’s nothing there that is not dead weight to be thrown overboard in this process of unlearning…

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I will never learn it seems,

Or be free of these dreams that keep me afloat,

So until I too sink I will always be seafaring with this love that I’m serving…

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