Jarred

No it’s not anything particular about you. I enjoy watching your skin caress your bones of course. Hairs that pierce your face do so in the same fashion as all others I know. Today you are orange, I think it is the way you rush through the wind. Today I feel orange and I’d like nothing more than to follow you around, sometimes from a distance, just to see where you go. So understand that as with most things this request is more to do with me than you. If it makes you feel better I think that you are very warm, like a buzzing atom. I find you amusing in a way that excites me to imagine how you might touch me. The road I was travelling has long lost me and now a feeling of closeness is hard to come by. What does caress mean to you? You have the look of uncertainty about you but I don’t get the impression you are planning to leave. Perhaps instead of moving we could sit and watch the road together. Have you ever stared into someone’s eyes so long that you forget what they look like? I think somewhere in your eyes might be the answer I’ve been looking for. Please remember that this isn’t personal. I do wonder what leads your fancy. I’ve long given up chasing things, don’t you find that the most exciting things usually find you? I might close my eyes for a while, I feel quite overcome, like I’m being jarred slowly out of my skin. Sing me a sweet song before you leave, I find it makes waking easier.

Tumble

SECRET MOMENTS
               of paradise once
                    
             crystalized
       in my 
               Memory.
                                       
                                 They are  always
                        Available to hold;
But as time
                             PASSES
             they slip more easily.


through               MY
                                          fingers.

Once Good Memories

Haiku #3

Teeth ground on the kerb.

Eat a path to the next place.

Possessed, cold, alone.

Irrepressible Night

A tart in a trance at the mutant end of argyle street,

stood under a street lamp showering in the rain.

She used a dead pigeon as a loafer and sang inexplicable lyrics to 

Passers by.

This jail bird babe lipsticked my collar.

What a roar.

Death in tights raising hairs, razing.

Sing a song of merriment and rejoice the falling of water, 

A thirsty diseased tongue still sexy to the night.

Finally she fell and never rose again, burning a hole,

into the earth.

Now a grate covers her grave, through the bars one can hear

Dulcet lullabies and weeping regrets - 

Save for some occasions of rapturous warnings and saintly, victorious anthems.

Sketches for Paintings

Haunted

Haunted by grand ideas of abstraction. 
A shared silent look - but with reciprocal meaning? One writing great waves and the other filling a thimble with love and nobility.
Who comes next - there must be another. Awash me in your great colour.
A hive of personality, seventy shades unknown.
Archaic footsteps approach, sweeping in their effect on my life. Trampled.
Path through a wooden gate; new leaves grow up strong and tall.
What was becomes a pitied alien. Irreverence rules with fury - no time to pick up the pieces.
Held up to a light and forced to sweat out anguish, useless is that which drags of the past.
Shattered mirror, numerous haunted life-scapes
Ghouls with iridescent faces licking at my skin and impounding my flesh.
Freedom affords the naked body a unique choice, make a new decision, one without ties.
Can freedom ever be accomplished when an echo whispers so sweet?
Haul together the valuable fruits, taste with a wise and eager tongue.

Haiku #2

Velvet hatred seeps
Through the dimly lit winter.
Raise a lush target.

Proof

Can you not write of love?
It's glimpse edges away,
Fingers hoard empty halls,
Eyes spite reflection.
Linger on eternity,
Thicken once sweet air.
Dirty proved vanity
Even for those so fair.

Haiku #1

Raining again now.

Surprised spirit, even though

Summer is soaked through.