Scorch

This elliptical orbit that spins inside.
Gravitates to your inner moon.
A sea tide of the soul that shrinks in time.
In purpose.
My will.
A thousand suns of shame.
Burning away my eyes, to stop the tears.

Advertisements

Dispatcher commands

Watch your dreams run for cover as the nightmares come.
Flowing in a stream of lightening and regret.
Cancelled out like an expired passport.
You fall on me.
Cling to the world I once promised.
Bow your head, and summon new reasons.
These demons, will whisper into your soul.
This pillar is now just sand, awash with a wave of tears; it crumbles.
Back into the iron sea.
Let go of my plane.
Let the time zones take me.
As the days slip away, and I fade into memory.
Adjusting sleep to sympathy and rhythms without you.
Turning away from that hemisphere and heartache.
To a place only I will ever know.

Toujours en fuite?

Vous souvenez-vous, quand vous étiez jeune?
Les battements de coeur dans un infini.
Une seconde sur les lèvres de Dieu.
Pouvez-vous sentir la forêt?
Es-tu fuyant?
Disparu dans les arbres.
Quelle partie d’entre vous ne dort jamais?
Pour toujours rêver dans un monde où règnent les cauchemars.
Portez votre couronne.
Asseyez-vous, et lavez-vous dans les larmes cosmiques.

Time to regenerate

Partners in exposer, distant dreams uncovered.
These delusions, of downfall;
keep a heart and feet on edge.
Come paint this sky, wipe away the grey.
Emerge and break the lightning in mind.
A Bath for my brain as I breathe under water.
Turning the water to red.
Your arm-reach way, stretches across the universe.
Equal to all, statically shuffling sub atomically.
Bits of stars and dust, and molecules of love.
Come break this world and build it up again.
Woken and broken into pieces of god.
Drenched in the tears of the angels,
Splattered with the blood of Satan.
Wring out the colours of clarity.
And hold aloft for the jealousy of the dead.

Elle va bien

They jostled onto the train that had arrived with a clankering commotion at the station. The vaulted tiled ceiling of the underground station swirled with the sound of metal, tannoy announcements and tourist hubbub. The train had emptied somewhat, spilling out its human cargo which shuffled towards the luminous sortie signs, the basic words even foreigners understood, ingrained from childhood French lessons and the trappings of travel. They were able to get seats as the train pulled away and snaked into the belly of the city, passing tunnels and bones of the long forgotten.

The seats were as hard as wood, worn down from millions of asses thankful of somewhere to rest for the short journeys between stations. They were heading down towards Saint-Marcel and thankful too to be getting away from the crush and pull of the touristy hot-spots. They watched the other passengers engrossed in smart phones, conversations and anxieties of potentially going the wrong direction. Passengers on life’s train of happenstance.

Opposite them sat a lady, listening to her headphones and glancing off into the train. Looking, but searching for nothing. Her brown hair fell around her face, framing her like a motionless portrait typical of those seen meters above in the many museums dotting the city. She sat motionless, listening to her music as the train swayed and hummed down the line. The only movement was a collection of tears that suddenly began to build and breach, trickling down her face. They watched as she tilted her head down, blinking away the collection of tears and emotions that had appeared. One of them jabbed the other in the side, bringing attention to the scene before them in case it was not being seen or felt for the degree that it was. He reached inside his pocket and took out a tissue, hoping it was clean. The crinkles indicated it had been with him all the day, but looked devoid of anything unpleasant.

He reached across and gently touched her arm. She looked up, surprised. “Are you okay?” he asked, hoping his eye’s spoke to a level beyond the language required. She nodded and mumbled words of appreciation, taking the tissue and dabbing her eyes. A small smile appearing at the corner of her mouth, her eyes shaking away an embarrassment that wasn’t necessary.

She looked above her finding the line map, a tiny yellow light indicated they were at Bastille. The train usually emptied a lot here, and she glanced around seeing those exiting and the people awaiting to board. Her hand found the phone in her pocket and she skipped the track on her music. The new song crashed in, her mind was suddenly taken elsewhere as her heart skipped a beat and the chaos around her ebbed away. It had never been ‘their song’, but it was always one that had reminded her of them. The lyrics so seemingly fitting for what they had, what had burrowed inside of her and warmed her soul. She did not notice the two guys sit down opposite her, the limited space between where their knees nearly met. She was off elsewhere, hearing laughter and smelling that someone on her bed-sheets.

The train jerked, and though she stayed in her memory, it shifted; along with the train. It had all crumbled, corroded only yesterday. Smashed liked a teetering tea cup on the edge of a kitchen counter. She could understand things not working right now, she could even acknowledge the arguing. But those had been usual relationship problems. To be told you were no longer needed, that you were no longer welcome in their life. That was what had hurt. She could deal with the packing up of possession and the moving on. Going into work the next day as routine propelled her forward. But she could not take the hurt that had ignited within, perhaps lying dormant for the inevitable. That she was never the one, she could no longer make them happy. All that she had to offer, came up short. All those reasons she had told herself why she was inadequate rang out to be real in a horrible realisation of truth. A view she had shielded her eyes from, like looking at the sun. It had swallowed her, submerged her in a grey that clung to her like oil.

Putting on her work clothes, combing her brown hair. Seeing the day instead of cowering in her bed like she wanted. The feeling of detachment and lack lay upon her, making her feel that no one really cared about her in this world. If she turned up to work, or not; nothing really mattered in a way. The tears welled and broke forth, streaming down her cheek in a warm river. She had forgotten she was on the metro. Her mother would have been ashamed to see her show such emotion in public, but she did not realise. Too consumed in grief and self-piety that she found herself deep beneath the streets of Paris on a Metro train that ran all day, every day. Until she felt something nudge her arm, softly yet foreign. She looked up surprised to see a small tissue and concerned smiles greet her. She nodded a thanks and was able to cough up “Merci, je vais bien.” She smiled slightly, knowing it was true.

The grey was still within her, but in that moment a tiny part had turned to white.

Tears of the Gods

His heart, now the colour of his wife. Broke apart.
The urn smashed, scattering them both across the clouds.
As the volcanoes rumbled and the gods groaned.
Down they both came in the rains.
Licked up by the wood spirits and the humans below.
Pooling in the heart of the world, flecks of life;
and the cast down tears from Olympus.

This is now your lament

Turning to fire in the diamond white sky.
Blaze across our memories like a dying comet.
Let go of disappointments, and feel the ground instead.
Touch my soul and feel your bones shake.
Then feel it in my heartbeats.
Singing out a rhythm as you dance to a heavenly tune.
We watched as you collapsed.
Imploded like a supernova of shame.
Yet do not decay and float away on the solar winds.
Cast you tear stained stars all over our indigo horizon.
Take the strides and tides that rip and pull at us away.
And leave us in the breeze of your wake.
Reaching up to heaven in our own floric ascent.
Like a frozen flower in a meadow of dust.
Locked for eternity, in the pull of your divine gravity.
Shed not a glance at our artic distress.
For we melt on the inside, knowing you are safe.

Ghosts

A Collaborative poem with ‘Enshrined Poetry’ (not the first time, more here).


It splits my soul.
Dragged back towards these melancholy shores.
Running through the downpour of emotions and memories.
Slick and sticky.
Covering me completely.
The ghosts gather, licking their ectoplasmic lips.
Feasting on the flesh of a thousand mistakes.
The subtle beasts, stealing my lazy reveries.
They haunt me still.
Rumbling up and down these bones, while I shiver towards catatonic sunder.
The god shape hole is backfilled with the deeds of the devil.
A By-product of love maneuvers and binding selfishness.
Like evolution.
The toxic waste of time.
………………..
Oh El I, El I….
………………..
Sweet and short reprieve.
What libertine hope is haloed into these thought chests?
Where ghosts hold the keys and cover the locks.
They never had the power of speech, yet their words haunt and taunt me.
They know the reasons for these tears.
Smiling at the circumstance.
With a spectral hand they reach in and catch me off guard.
Talismans dropped and facing away from mecca.
They whistle my lingo, until I’m driven into solid black and white.
Kiss me over and over again, staining my broken lips with shame.
As I absorb the white noise.
The crackle and hisses coil.
A mountain of monsters merge into one.
All names fade away, into the pinhole of the shadowless.

 

Quit quiet qualm

You struggle to breathe now.
With guilt filling your lungs like water.
Careful not to break.
To run a ground on regret.
Problems that seemed better in the morning.
Bare on your skin like the sun of the rising zodiac.
Crawling with your Taurus tendencies.
Your face fails to fill my eyes, contorted and hidden.
Peeping in and out of truth and reality.
Slipping into the past like an exit manoeuvre.
Weightless, like your words.
Faithless and scared.
That toe dip into the world or the righteously misled.
As the dam breaks, and the clouds sigh in sadness.
Washing me in the rain of your ghostly tears.
A phantom I left two minutes before you even knew what you were doing.
Coincidence or grand design?

Wreckage – Adjustment 1.5

You lost her, a time and a heartache ago.
Spirited into the heavens on a cloud of confusion.
Murdering the future with the finality of death.
To see her now, to touch her face.
To slip inside the soul for a minute and see the life that could’ve been led.
A cosmic re-shuffling.
A kiss from heaven.
Leaves turning brown in an instant.
Evaporated away to leave only space and tears.
That fall from your eyes in a time she never knew.
From a person she no longer knows.
Sweet bitterness, loving and leaving the things that hurt.
Yet offer more love than an ocean of time.
Et vous tombez loin de mes épaules dans l’ombre et la poussière.

Wreckage – adjustment.1

This pain that spreads, that aches like a fire.
Swirling within me like a hallucination.
Is not dampened by these tears from my eyes.
These tears; that do nothing to mask my inner knowing.
That I loved you more than the world.
And miss you beyond the stretches of time.
I was absent when you left.
But I too, died they day you departed.

Arboretum of the mind

Those words they buried.
The thorny ones with discontent.
Maligned manners from blackened hearts.
They rotted in my mind.
In that grey earthy soil.
Those tears they watered.
Digging down deep to the black pit of my soul.
Like potatoes which found the light.
Deep in the dark such acorns of defiance sprouted.
Filling my bones with vines and life.
So now I prune, and potter.
I bask in the shade of a cooling tree.
That borne within me.
My arboretum of solitude.
My tree of life with bark as tough as nails.
And leaves that never turn, despite the season.
Or the early winter you threaten.

Weathered feathers

Until they find you there, covered in wax and burning from within.
There will be a need to kneel.
To talk to you in whispered words only the soul can understand.
From pages fringed with gold and tears.
Pages of the past and covered in time.
I read you like braille, touching your skin to a language of saying.
Wanting and needing to be heard.
I kiss your lips and cough up feathers.
Careful not to cut my fingers on your golden crown.
Or the miraculous poisoned arrow aimed at me.
Taking toxins to tantalise my tongue.
They will discover, and they will see.
A long forgotten way of being, a substance not of this earth.
For which I know all too well.
For I am under that spell.
Paralysed in a plume of dove white radiance.
Playing the music of love on my heart.

Liberation

Covered in tar and tears. Watching the new world turn over.
Smothering me in a shadow of time.
All those instances of comprise.
Drilled down to the core of my soul.
So I let it go.
Ultimately the only way is out.
Running naked in the streets
Cast off these ties that bind, if the shackles continue to rub.
Reclaiming this fate for my own, no longer drifting to the abyss.
Standing to fight.
Marching in a time of movement.
Buzzing with the sound of change.

Heaven in retrograde

These seas are evaporating, leaving sand in my ear.
As I hold the shell of you close to me.
In the dizzying haze of electric blue, you stutter and sub verse.
Wiping it all a jet black as the magic calls your name.
Echoes from the past and the end of the dark cave.
Down in the belly of the earth.
These tears you birth, are explosions in your eyes.
What correlation sucks the root and turns the tide?
A wash once again with salty words and dismay.
This heaven I’m leaving, is but a dying star.
The moon sliced in two; like an apple, cored and bored through.
Suffocated in your new supernova of smiles.
Waiting to be born again, holding tight to these expectations.
Holding onto this honey in my hands.
Trapping it forever in amber.

Sting

The rapid heartbeats within me, shake me like a train track.
You drip through the air like mercury.
Holding your titanium crown aloft for the world to see.
Silently the world waits, as I hold my breath and disposition.
You swim to me in an ocean of darkness.
Bringing destruction that clouds my mind like ink.
Each words carefully uttered, flipped away with an arrogance you wear like skin.
They bruise and dent me, beating me up like a tin can in the street.
Silky words those lips sometimes utter, liked boxed poems and chocolate.
A look that can roll me in sugar.
Not today though.
Now is the time of toxic temperaments.
And words that cut like a knife and sting.
I can’t be immune as you turn your back on me.
So let me cry my eyes out into your ocean;
so you’ll never see them fall.

The Buildings melted

Watching the horizon through tempered glass.
Silhouettes that block out the sun.
Only for a moment.
A moment too long.
The flames lick at his desk, eating away the wood.
Tapping on his soul.
They corrode the walls around him.
Destroying fibreglass and dreams of tomorrow.
He tries to block out the voices.
Scratching inside his skull like rats in a well.
Closing his eyes. Out through the glass.
Trying not to think about the ground.
Going to the place a million miles away.
A place his family dwells.
He feels the rush through his bones.
The ache of his heart.
The monstrous shadow of hate.
Oil soaked fingers opening Pandora’s box to fate.
That hostile future carved out by domestic architects.
In his long way down.
His final symphony of strings and sirens.
Crumpling into the dust as he sets himself free with a final tear.
Watching from above moments later.
As the realm and the buildings melt.

Sea salt on my skin

Not looking for anything to interrupt this morning.
Yet came it did.
Hurried through these bones like a freight train.
Cutting me deep.
Such hurt on the telephone.
Transistor tears and unravelling years.
Wiping away tomorrow.
Those words.
Not letting me.
Melted down like mediocrity.
One wish was to take me to higher ground.
To say goodbye.
As the waves lapped at my feet.

Skirt your soul

Coughing on the brick dust.
Not complaining.
Just re-arranging.
This sanctuary you’ve housed us in.
Licking the light that shines through the stained teared windows.
You cover me in everything.
You wrap me around you like a piece of string.
Feeling the blood pump through these veins.
Skin on skin. Lips to lips.
With an infinity smile you harken me forward.
Out of this church of our hearts.
The fresh mountain air hits my lungs.
Breathing in the butterfly breath of your exhale.
You tomorrow’s sigh.
Hand gripped and stable. Grounded when I was falling apart.
Steadied my soul.
And when I was letting go, you let me fly.
Soar.

Unravel into the trees

She fought those tears.
Trembling in her aqua eyes.
Threatening to betray the inner madness.
Her return from Saturn paved such starry ways.
Words were useless now to her.
Her hands she griped onto the planet.
Sinking her fingers into the rich earth beneath her.
To leave and return was worse than never vacating this place.
This spinning globe of talk and toil.
Shaking her head once more she sighed.
She shook the oceans from her ears and the spat out lava like a volcano.
Temperament to sizzle and burn away the unholy.
She never had wings, yet she knew how to fly.
She never saw death, but knew she could die.
Running to the forest, she evaporated into the mist.
Breathed in by the pines, brought down in the next rains.

Tears in time

Shake.
The earth quivers and the sky falls like tears.
Every time you cry.
Like a rip in the fabric of life.
A scar on time.
When you break.
My inner messiah bleeds.
Red like your anger. Frozen like your defeat.
Held in my arms like dust.
Blowing in the hurricane.
Your pieces land on my heart.
Cutting me deeper.
Falling.
Collapsing to the floor like broken bones.
When you cry.
The hairline break takes hold.
Breaking your wings.