A Different Kind of Death

Vased memories beside Mountain path
Leads to derelict house in a Pembroke river,
Dirt red roads measure the Valleys in
Stanzas of graves awaiting final ellipsis.

Paraffin poetry fuels his muse into creation.
She arrives in the last snow of spring,
Strands of air-coloured silk stirrup
Femail to his oaken and carved heart.

She catches consonants from his throat
Webs stories to skins of burnt diamonds,
Wears them as jewels over her wounds.
Her summit collapses down to his lakes,
Chalice of cigarettes, alcohol and charms for living.
A man on a cross would call this salvation.

Hallowing the sun from under Catalina bone
The shortest walk across the longest island.
Collaborations unbutton the skin storms
Naked be the verse, lain softly before the hearse.


Among the starry tormentil
Rain in the barley scythes thru scribbles
‘Remember me, but forget my fate.’
Lips left open at orchard gates.

A different kind of death
Remote, yet still breathing,
She carries the coffin in her purse
Daisy-chains his limbs to her azure sky.
Weeps only for the ghost-words never written.
 
In the Land of His Fathers, choirs of children
Womb’inate song into empty scholarly rooms,
Cradle the distance between crypt chapters
Of bible black biography and purple tomorrow.  

Beyond any destination
Eternal language sings,
Logs of his poetic cabin
Will raze sense to cinder.

Summer’s words will be buried
In their rightful truthful home.