Washing in batik skies
Tidal belly scrapes over shingle
Cobalt swimmings turn blue
Shades of arc(h)ed existence.
Fluting along whale motorway,
Crashing roll, strangled berceuse,
Collapsing lungs of caved yearnings
Since all hearts were soaked in daesin oil.
From the beginning forebears
were diving for pearls.
On wet sand my bow breaks
Collecting pebbles in bistre bucket;
Moving crab-like, soft sho(r)e shuffle,
The beads chime as Shakti bracelets
Swinging from boughs on forest fringe,
Sharing stories set in stone.
Ejaculated by sea spray
Ground by history bedrock
Stained by moonlight, mirroring
Bird wings under waves.
Into the pebble pool:
Pen shall skinny dip
Indigo ink rippling o’er
Smooth naked flint skin.
Commit to where water and land meet.
A rotten fish and seagull cadaver
In fading light on verge of foreplay.
Two pairs of glassed eyes become three
A tourist forms a diorama trinity,
Crumbling sepulchral razing on promenade.
He belongs to family of bereaved
Stood as binoculars ~ lost lenses
Tracing bodies in morgue’ing memories:
Angles shift, jaw jut to universe edge
Heeled flesh to tine of every continent,
70 degrees from the tired sun.
Dreams cling to other side of breakers -
He does not return my smile.
Autumn breath draws
Glacial curtains missionary open
Allow anaesthetised mist to form
On hospital windows by the sea.
Oceans cry as Carmenta’s love child
Cradled between bruised birth ribs
& corded state of becoming
Tears stretch flux to emotional flex.
Beyond the peak of colours
As mountains fall into
Sleeptember shadowlands -
Ember’ed sunsets slash day’s throat
With a blunting blade,
Cleaving thru’ hill cleavage with
Ambering thrust of rust.
Winter will be described thus:
‘harsh’ ‘cruel’ ‘unrelenting’
As it always is, and
We always do -
Living among patterns.
Old red eyes had returned
One forgotten summer:
Eternal Barman coalesced vodka
Cockroach bones, burnt diary ashes
Eyelashes of love graved, guttered rain.
In absence of absinthe sugar crystals
Liquesce thru’ needled eye, spirit rasped
Raw to throat, as rat being skinned.
1001 ways to go astray
Typical me, found another way…..
You could tell as I slept all day.
Sometimes a voice broken asks
Brushing verisimilitude verse into corners:
‘Is this all self portrait
Palimpsest painting of inner self
Is it all made up?
Lipstick dust on mirrors
Open books, stained cups
Vase’d dead rose, rain rattling window?’
Contours of heart cartography/
Finally found latitude of home:
Tis long roam home when your name is shit,
How could one walk into life of another
When others have cut legs down to knees?
Honey, I very much at home!
Viewing our blue moon carnival
Thru’ hubris of hubble telescope,
Laika barks muffled drum roll
For 2 souls in streamed confluence of 1.
how dare we even
think such things,
when future is unthinkable
but here we are –
Snow shavings of your skin
Will cover my mindscape
Lightest veil will bridle all this
To reins and straps of spring,
Butterfly breath on new’ing dawns.
The summer can wait
Strawberry finger prints on flesh
Sucking in foutain’ous sandalwood streams.
Let summer break prayers
On circled monsoon marshland.
In poetry of the night
Writing into me
Dusky ochre twilight
Streetlights trace outstretched hands
To dance amongst wildflowers.
Of all to behold.
#pic. Irish Sea. By me. Boring facts of the day. Very close to the spot where Larkin’s parents met for first time in 1902. Ghost of Ruth Ellis has been perceived staring out to sea here. Last woman hanged in UK, raised in this town.