Play me

I was
carried to you
on the wavering discord of a guitar string

thrumming distorted harmonies
settle in the blood
and pulse with a heated beat
as it thrusts life
through limbs
urging us to move

together



Our bones have wept
wailed
the sound
gathering
to collide
implode
drawing you to me
in the throbbing
collection of discarded notes
as they fall from the song


A bass beat
the fuck
we finally found
waiting at the end of
the dance

Move into
and through me

your fingers strum
veins
and sinew
drawing harmony
from urgent flesh

The chorus
a counterpoint of
submission
licking resistance

into want

Untitled

Its 2.00am
my teenage daughter
is eating ice cream in the lounge
eyes glued to America's next top dancing modeling singing
weight losing freak show zombies

Its 2.15am
and you toss turn
mumbling consternation
into the warmth of the blankets

The vague curve of your spine
a masters carefully sketched
precursor to the painting
you are.

I would touch you
but you are beyond
me

I am
the furrow in your brow
tension in your neck
knotted muscles of your shoulder blades

I am never quite the answer
often the question
an unknown element in any situation

the random factor that cannot be relied upon
to play my part.


But if you ask us over a glass of wine
we will chime in time
a harmony of affirmation
that ours is the perfect union

The one poets write of
the one dreamers strive for

Its 2.20am
and I am wondering if I can
ever really resolve all the
sharp edged failings I have
accrued like interest on a loan

I examine shame
disillusion
and their clammering minions
from all sides

flipping my Rubik's cube of self
till the colors align

Here
the vertical red of rage

there
the shaded contemplation of blue


Its 3.00am
and the dog eats itself
in ravenous grunted self destruction

You have calmed
the nights
rapid eye dance
over

I listen as America releases
my child from its media thrall
and she trundles off to bed
a shadow

a Grey wraith

another color
on my cube.

Past and Present

She came to him

bare feet gliding over
her own reflection

as he flowed around her

a gentle constancy.


Soft silver
caressing her
from before and after

he glided past.

She would kneel within
his
cool embrace

dip her hand
to
caress the vibrancy

as he splayed her fingers apart.


He
became the rush

and she
forgot herself


Summer brought her to
shadowed bends
where long willow fronds
hung low over long grass banks
edged in morning glory and mist flower.


She would curl her legs beneath her
and listen
as he spoke

the shame of moss

how it never grew
where the sun would
find it

how it hugged the shadows
seeking only to cling
and
never stand alone.


He told her
how pebbles
loved to laugh
and beckoned her closer
till she could hear
the chuckling

as he moved amongst them.

Sometimes
he allowed her
to dive into him


when the morning air
clung
to her

and sweat molded her
white blouse
to the curve of breast
the arch of back
the small round of belly.

He embraced her naked
chilling skin
till she was covered in goose flesh
shivering in the early days heat.


She would submerge
sinking ever deeper
to seek him

but always
come up gasping
her grasping fingers

never quite reaching.


When she asked him
if she would ever stand within him

he turned colder

rushed past her
his surface
flecked and swirled
in foaming Grey disarray

He rose then
higher
and higher
till she was forced to cling to the shore
holding her head above him
imploring.

He relented
and fell away
a flash flood come and gone
scattered debris
his only comment


She ran
droplets spraying from her
to fall and nurture parched earth.


Later
days to
weeks to years

she returned
found him

frozen over
a hard shell
keeping secrets
beneath.

Tentative
she stepped
onto him
knelt
and tried to see his face

Ice
reflected her wavering image

and nothing else


Authors Note. I have tried to combine elements of my writing from years ago with the
skill set I have now as a poet. Initially, I feel it went quite well, this combination, but in the end, I was left dissatisfied with the result, please feel free to give me your opinion on it as I am keen to resolve what went wrong.



Either that or I suck and therefore, should immediately explode and allow the small rodents of this world to pick over my bones, perhaps they will figure it out

Spring

In spite of me
or perhaps
because of
I am mindlessly enthused by
tomorrow
and how the shape of it can bend into
unusual design

I once saw a day
break away from the pack
and sprint towards the future
the rest
howling fowl
and waving their fists
do days have fists?
I know they have legs
because some of them can run forever

Tomorrow is a careful plan
thrown out the window
caught on a gust of wind
and spun around
till it loses perspective
becoming more receptive
to the thought
that all things are random
including you and I.

There is a gleam in my eye
but if you point it out
I will lie about it
avert and convert the idea
into a discussion about
your skin and how it brings
songs to the lips of children
a sub sound
felt rather than heard
you cannot pick out any particular word
more a sensation
than an explanation.


And here comes tomorrow
as promised
as foretold in the bottom of
a cup of tea
the leaves curling into a rune
with no interest in style or considerations

Your call

we can wait here for it

or hold hands and move into
its
embrace

Your fingers
so cool
against my palm.