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.

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I don’t want this future

Sand flurries through these fingers.
Time crumbling away.
I stand motionless, allowing the wind to rattle my bones.
A cobweb in my mind tightens.
The earth shakes and my moon falls.
I want to return, go back. Sit and wait on the edge of existence.
Dip my feet into the pool on unknowing.
All the mysteries have answers.
All the faces now have frowns.
These clothes, this skin; all illusionary trinkets to dazzle and distort.
A box, a prison I have dug for myself.
My temptation tiptoes into time, and takes me away.
Above the towns and the moments I made.
I return to the tree from where I fell.
Safe and secure like a nut underground.
Buried and forgotten by last year’s squirrel.
I sit and wait, casting eyes up to the heavens.
Allow for the rains to wash it all away.
Soaking it deep in my veins to breathe a new now.
With my future, yet unwritten.
Writing in the coal I’m turning to diamonds.

Burst

Skin that sizzles like a lemon in the sun.
All your dreams have just begun.
For deep within your bones doth lie.
A lightening strength, to touch the sky.
A bursting hope, that shines within.
And penetrates your citrus skin.
So suck on life, and savour and relish.
Do not allow those dreams to perish.
For we are all different as lemons to limes.
And painfully on sweet borrowed time.

Heavy like clouds

Rough stone, as cold as our hearts that hurt.
Weathered by the life we chose. Dropped into the pool of time.
Weighing down. Hard like bones in our stomach.
From the meaty dreams devoured in youth.
Rain upon a fertile mind, where the weeds and willows weep.
And where cacti bloom in the drought of purity.
Our own selves, no longer true as a shadow of regret reminds;
that we’re locked and dying in the jaws of time.

Circles in the oil

The dark sky sways, undulating in that oily void.
Threatening storms, and to swallow me.
We move in motion, dancing across the dangerous divide.
Hoping not to fall. Hoping instead to fly.
Yet the golden dreams crumble to ash, and the sulphur seeps into our bones.
Laid waste across the terrain like cooling magma.
Did you prick your finger upon the wonderment?
Did you breathe in a new world design?
The lungs now get heavy with the tar of life.
Weighing down your soul until you shake into nothingness.
Black. All turns black as the sky shifts and salutes a new day of redundantment.
Our bones turn to chalk, and we write are names on the tombstones of tomorrow.
Erase. Re-write. Turn back the time to let in the light.
We all want our lonely little world.
To swim away from the one that’s drowning.
Let the pin prick breach and gape.
On a raft of a thousand reasons.
Allow the blood to cover a new imagination.
And suck the seed of dreams, to save yourself.

These Dreams

 

Where do the dreams go to die?
The great throes of a beast whose being shines with an energy of a lifetime.
The elephant graveyard of hopes, where the bones crumble and crack in the burning sun of reality.
Do they die at all, or hibernate under the covers of life.
Forgotten about until the final hour, to flash across our eyes like signs on a road never taken.
These dreams wither; they fold and float away on the winds of existence.
Spirited away like the seasons of youth.
Like leaves from a tree they decay.
Never watered, chopped down before the seed ever even germinates.
These dreams, forever in my mind yet always out of reach.

Dissolve

In the moment we fade, into shadows and dust.
Corroded and broken, like heartache and rust.
For time is motion, both forward and back.
And into the darkness, our minds birth the lack.
Of knowing limitations, of body and mind.
That we all fade away, over spread golden time.
Once oh so pretty, that the angels despaired.
How a dream would unfold, how souls ceased to care.
And the ghosts swirled around in a sad misty dance.
Where the passage of fate, and time took their chance.
To rob them of hope, to turn night out of day.
Where love and of beauty, will dissolve away.

Scratches inside the skull

Hear the clouds, rolling and calling.
Rumbling across your spine.
Vertebrae by vertebrae it moves you.
Like a little child crying out in the dark.
The air gets heavy. And the rainbows die.
Anything you wanted, falls back.
Turns into time.
The rain you feel on your fingertips.
Are the tears you cried as a child, busting the dam.
Flooding your spirit, marking a way to the funeral of a childhood friend.
The one you wished the most for.
Built those dreams with sand and innocence.
Playback the videotape in your mind before the lightening burns the image.
Filling your eyes with fog and fury.
Of a lost dream, crumbled and put to sleep.
Snatched by the monsters and left to die in a foreign atmosphere.
Alone, in a time glass.
Covered each second in the sand of regret.

Haunted hunter

A mournful tune to play as the bones buckle.
The hum inside your gums while the night lingers on.
What sound called to you, rose you from that grave of regret.
We sit and watch the world tip over, spun into a dizzying dervish and lost in the mind of God.
These darkened eyes that haunt you, casting casualties and consequence.
Do you leave them to turn to stone?
To honey up and glaze like the milky itch of remorse?
How heavy the skin of the idle.
Bleached into the alien grey like driftwood on a beach.
Turn on that apology and settle into an xstatic rhythm.
Shaken from the willows of the wilds. Shaking stars and dust from your mind.
The black swan which follows you, cries out for change.
Etiolated in the darkening world you occupy.
Be still its cries of the dying, the call for collapse.
For this flightless bird of paradise craves warmer climates.
And a world much brighter than our own.

The Day of goodbyes

Falling into a sleep that’s caught between the devil and the deep.
Blue, everything blue blue blue.
These hearts, caught on strings and spun around fingers.
Worn on the sleeves, cut into ribbons.
The world need not worry, the moon cares little.
Little spheres of sadness that fade into the space of time.
But there was that day, that long terrible day of goodbyes.
Cut deep into the soul of existence.
A meteor into the ice of now.
Tears stained, then dried as they are spirited off.
Into unknown lands and parts of their mind.
An aching blue, a neon pain remained.
In the absence of other, a divine emptiness.
Conspired by the fates to lick the face of loss.
Not knowing what they had, until it was gone.

Six degrees of disintegration

Paper soul dancing by life’s flame.
Burn again. Born again.
Over and over like a universe collapsing.
Coming to bleed out the dark.
A dangerous dialysis of oil and tar.
Coming here to disappear.
Smearing your soul across the world for all the birds to see.
Nothing could bring you closer.
Shooting at phantoms.
Nothing would bring you down.
Dreaming those dreams in which to lose yourself.
Powered chalk on other’s fingertips.
Dirtying up your memories.
Falling to climb but never finding your wings.
Reconciled the misery with a loss of innocence.
That sweet little heart.
You gathered your bones up to say goodbye.
Breaking at your most beautiful.
And crawling out of your skin.
Leave, hoping for them to take you.
The vanishing calling.

Dusk of the innocent

They didn’t see it coming.
Always bouncing on to something else.
Ignoring the ghosts in their eyes, or the oncoming headlights.
Those April days of innocence.
Flying over schools and mountain tops.
Elasticated minds skimming the Tokyo suburbs.
Never finding time to hear what love sounded like.
Letting it all fall away like a crumbling cliff, on the sea of something.
Were you ever sure what you fought for?
Always in the eye of the storm of your halcyon hurricane.
When April faded to December, what do you cling to now?
Freeze dried promises that never seem to thaw.
Mislabelled and mumbling that nothing seems clear.
Only the icy ground beneath, forcing you in that straight line.
Towards you losing yourself.
And lowering into soil.
Could you ever tell who liked you? Did you ever really care?
Needling the hay to make way for a forgotten tomorrow.
Singing into the dusk of the innocents.

This in now your ascent

These eyes, lost in a lonely perfection.
Surrounded by moon dust and a time burnt away.
Never forget where you came from.
The light that sings inside your bones.
You breathe new life into me.
Washing away yesterday, and a history of pain.
I watch your Pisces rising.
Fixing karma and crawling into fate.
Lay down those thoughts that wrap inside me.
Keeping me protected against those solo winds.
Burn the fortress within, and ascend.
Tipping over this night’s sky.

Shift kiss

Take your hand off your eyes. See the sky above ignite.
Do not fall down into that soily grave alone.
Holding the hands of no-one.
Let the universe pulse in your veins.
Feel a fresh kiss of heroin as you save a life.
Save your own.
Communicate and reverberate this feeling.
Coursing and freewheeling.
Tumbling off of each kiss you give.
Each smile that slips into the dark.
To light the shadows like roman candles.
Let your galaxy slide into view.
Forget the hue of distrust and knee jerk distaste.
Taste me now. Let me in.
Strip way that cotton shell you’re living in.
Drink. Dive. Repeat.
Do not even give it a name.
Feel the ebb and flow as the old world shatters.
Sink into a sunbeam, radiating a love for everyone.
A neighbour, a lover.
A god in another skin.
Look within.

Vanishing points appear

A black stream as long as the nightingale’s song.
Whose home has been rearranged?
Who swims now in the shallow?
Inside the pulsating pride of regret.
Choices on the riverbed, washed over in time.
Forget me nots falling out of love and out of the sky.
Catching you in spider webs and safety nets.
Nothing could save you from death.
From the doubt that you built as your shelter.
Smashed by the rains of immortality.
How could your soul grow in unhealed hands?
Pebbled and black like the stream that forever flows.
Around the bend, leading to a sea.
Trickling into time.

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.

 

A Place in the stars

(Not part of, but in conjunction with ‘Echoes in space’)

Lots of people were afraid. Rationale and irrational fears grew like ivy in the cluttered world he lived in. As Jerimiah grew up, he found fear was just a pat of life. His sister had always been afraid of spiders. Snakes too, though spiders were a more every day hazard, bringing out an alarming response from her no matter who was around. He never forgot the day she found one in her bed when she was going to sleep, the screams had echoed down into the street making the dogs in the neighbour’s yard bark. They had shared a bedroom in the old house then, out of necessity more than anything else. It wasn’t until he was five years old that he had a room of his own. Of course, this came with the collapse of his parent’s marriage and he would have traded in a second the large bedroom at his father’s house, for the pokey one he shared with his sister. At least that way they would still be together. But people, like marriages collapse. His sister departing only a year into his larger bedroom life, not from a spider attack, but from the leukaemia that had corroded her from the inside.

Jerimiah was afraid of one thing, and one thing only. He was afraid of time. How it snuck in on him and those he loved. Snatching away those things, and people he held dear. Turning, tumbling and changing his little world that he would want to keep secret and safe under a bell jar. He would look up into the night’s sky and see the stars blinkering above him. Fixed into position like reliable Christmas lights, always there like the season, waiting to bring joy. It wasn’t until he was much older that he learned the true nature of space. The twirling chaos that attacked the cosmos, with everything in flux. But for that six year boy within him still, he would always see safety and security in the stars. His friends that were always there like jewels in black cement.

Jerimiah though was understanding about people’s fears. He understood why his sister had been afraid of spiders. How her mind would run with a thousand possibilities of what could happen, and the deathly mist that surrounded them and the poisonousness possibilities. Much like he understood people’s fear of flying. He had met an old lady on a flight to Rome once before, sitting in the aisle seat next to him. She was so afraid, her white knuckles had gripped onto the armrest for the duration of the flight, her eyes closed as if in silent prayer to keep her aloft, and to land safely in the eternal city. He had wondered what she was so desperate to live for, what in her life was she so afraid of losing. One’s death being usually a horrible climax of pain and distress, but momentary. What was she so afraid of not completing? What had her life really been about?

He had sat there himself on that small plane, thousands of miles above the French Alps, watching the snow-capped peaks shimmering in the sun. If they were to descend; collapse in a fiery demise and be strewn in wreckage across the snowy landscape, what was he missing out on? What in his life was he left to accomplish or leave behind? He would be missed of course. His partner would be distraught, and tears would be shed. But life would go on, time would cover the hurt up in sand and silence. Changing once more the nature of things.

Time. His biggest enemy.

He had landed in Rome safe and sound, the flight not having crashed like many unfortunate others had. He had quit is job that very day, enjoying a nice little holiday there instead of the work he had come there to do.

If he had known he were to die at the age of thirty three, Jerimiah would probably not have done things much different than he had. He would most likely have avoided a lot more arguments. Those stupid back and forths with people over things that mean nothing to wider universe. He knew time was always against him, under his feet like an escalator he couldn’t stop or slow down. In this way, he lived a full life. He understood the preciousness and fragility of life. He squeezed his partner a bit more when they hugged and kissed. He meant it more when he said I love you. Perfection was not to be a part of his existence on earth, yet Jerimiah saw the bigger picture. It was all a blink in the eye of God, and he knew he had no time to waste.

When at thirty three, he reached the top of the escalator, he glanced over the side to see how far he’d come. It all looked so small and crushable from his vantage point. He was alone, but he wasn’t sad. He could see his friends glittering their celestial magic as diamonds across the inky black. Their luminosity radiant and strong like a million burning suns. And he took his place in the stars, content and happy that the clocks had finally stopped ticking.

Erode the ruin

 

The sea was lapping at her feet now, the cold water slithering underneath her toes as the sand pulled away beneath her as the water receded. The waves were small and calm, placid like the mood she was in. It always calmed her coming here, walking down the perilous path that led from rocky outcrop at the top of the cliff. To her they were cliffs at least. Vast walls of rock keeping the sea and the world at bay. White cliffs that crumbled and creaked like the teeth of a slumbering giant.

She watched the little boat off in the distance, floating over the horizon; bobbing on the waves. Wondering what it would be like to be on that tiny vessel. Off to an unknown destination, casting her troubles and life overboard and setting off to the ends of the earth. Her dress flickered as the breeze blew in from the south, a small bit of spray spat at the bottom of the dress, marking her as an object of the ocean. Marking its territory. But she would not be owned, at least never again. She pulled at the flowers in her hand, twisting out the mauve petals from the peony bunch she loosely held in her hands. She squeezed one of them, bruising the skin and releasing a tiny bit of moisture which escaped into the salty air.

She came here for the silence and the solitude, but today she was haunted by the voices. The ghosts of those she knew that had followed her down the tumbling cliffs. They squawked and chattered, soliciting opinions and throwing comments like pebbles into the sea. She closed her eyes, but the sounds increased, twitterings of things she never asked to hear. She would never truly be alone, though it was the paradox of her desire. A wondrous dream that she chased, yet frightful of ever attaining it. Like chasing rainbows, she always came up empty yet surrounded with the multitude of others. Life dripping over her.

Dropping the flowers into the water, she watched as they descended in slow motion. The little helpers she took earlier we beginning to swim their own synchronised dance in her head now. The flowers separated like divorcing couples, sticking to each other while parts seemed to drift away with the tide. From the shore, she would have received respectful stares from passers by. Considerate looks for a soul caught up in a difficult moment, perhaps saying goodbye to a loved, one or remembering a time or a moment in life that had gone, corroded away into space like the rocks on the cliff. But she wasn’t saying goodbye, or thinking about anyone she loved. She was thinking only about herself, and how to unfix herself from the web she felt caught in.

She lifted her feet out of the sand, kicking off some seaweed which had begun to coil around her leg like a snake from the shallows. She looked back to the shore, the virgin sand glistened back at her, untouched today by those who sought out places to oil and tan themselves in the tangerine sun. She loved this place for that reason, that it was a quiet slither of the world that was her own.

Pulling the plaster off her arm, she folded it twice and popped it into her pocket. She pushed the hair back out of her eyes, securing it behind her ears while she squinted off into the distance. The boat she had seen was much further away now, battling the stronger currents she knew lay towards that area of sea. She looked at her watched, but realised she had taken it off earlier. She had left it on her bedside table. A tiny rebellious act, not to be controlled by time, or space, or matter. She had kept the ring on though, she twisted it now on her finger feeling the cool metal slide back and forth.

Some of the petals licked at her legs now, the approaching tide giving them free movement. One sloshed up her leg, sticking to it like a barnacle on a ship. She folded her arms and began to walk, slowly but determinedly into the sea.

 

Reverse back to tomorrow

I travelled down that road, only to get lost again.
Trying to get back again.
If I meet you there, I apologise; I would’ve failed.
Seeing the destruction in your eyes.
A strength you needed was not coursing through this DNA.
The magic in my makeup was only to enable disappearance.
To be made of steel, with golden wings.
Would be a tale for another time, and another version of me.
These signs that I pass, trying to be born again; or to shift the paradigm.
Tell me not of where I am headed, or where I have gone.
They only illuminate where I should already be.
Holding out for tomorrow to be different today.

Spider webs trapped the sun

In her room where the lamps flicker.
Within the corners, like those in her mind.
A devil does sit. A demon does wait.
Clicking tongues and painting her red.
She pulls away from this earth.
Disconnecting the gossamer thread that keeps her fire a flame.
Pulling her teeth out to give them something they needed.
A token for her pound of flesh.
She clipped her own wings so stay.
Only once, yet she lives with that decision.
Tarred and feathered in her dance of the daisies.
Each one waiting to be plucked.
So when the night draws in and those devils shift their feet.
Around her heart a deathly mist doth coil.
Unprotected.
Dangerously defeated.
Flashing her years before her like signs on a road.
Too late to turn back.
Too late to change the destination.

The bones of your universe

Trace these emotions across my skin.
Dipping into the sea of unsettlement.
Each grain of sand a product of when our souls smashed together.
I let the tide of you wash over me.
Pulling me up towards the stars, and around the moon.
A constant constellation of the uncontrolled.
Rhythmically timed to your orbit.
Should I lay back? Should I cry out?
Let the stars now wash over me.
Gripped in your galaxy once more.
Drowning in perfection, holding on for the ride.

Crystal trees

Crystal trees ring like a loathing of history.
Vibrating through your bones like a rage of a thousand lifetimes.
Where do you go to, when the day gets dark?
When the glass shatters, and splinters your soul?
Your confetti disposition melts on this tongue.
And floats away in the breeze that comes.
A mountainside gale, blown through snow and alpine air.
Off the twisted roots that spring up like hands pulling you down.
Covering you against the coming storm.
A wandering frost inside these veins, creeps and lows.
Like a tide of shame.
Tinged with the blood rouge of regret.
Whilst you settle on my eyelid like a wandering snowflake.
Offering a glimpse at a thousand dimensions.
And a peek inside my own.
I blink away the sight of you there, covered in attention.
Asking me once more.
Who am I?

A mouth full of marbles

You hold me until the ghosts are quiet.
Pulling into your soul this shadow of doubt.
A brain full of fire and a mouth full of marbles.
Yet you force me to speak.
A language of unsaying, fluent as the sphinx.
This hostility threatens everyone.
Those been and gone, and ones yet to be.
Sitting on the edge of expectation.
Tasting the chalk in my mouth.
My viper tongue recoils, and you slither away.
Into your own darkness, leaving just reality in my wake.
A wounded bird, a lamb in the teeth of this lion.
Yet my shepherd heart yearns for brighter days and greener pastures.
So let me spit out a saying, one practised like a prayer.
To quiver down your spine.
And rattle in your brain for an age.
Words that will flash before your eyes when you think of me.
And everything that all burnt away.

Spasm

What murmur stutters into existence?
Fast and slow.
Checking out of morality and shaking into something else.
Blur the lines of acceptance.
As we slither into another skin.
And cry within.
Apologise with deep sensation.
Called everything but what you are.
At first it really hurt, but now we joke about it.
Diminished as the light turns low.
Knee jerk into a falling, a sweeping weeping that leaves you empty.
You gave your best today, but you stumble.
Stutter and spasm into another day, another time.
A romantic funeral for the martyr of destiny.
That role no-one chose.
A goodbye for the already forgotten.