12 posts
lilacs - a song
by the lilacs there she grows
and under the willow she knows
but who wants to
collect her too
except the moon and the stars
there he came a shade of blue
so am i so are you
thereon my love
reach up above
and pick him off the apple tree
the waves (for tomorrow) - a song
soft sounds of the rain
i feel like a child in your presence
i wish someone had told me
that all beautiful things
may come to an end
you don’t need to remind me
it’s that time of the season
i can’t get my brain to hold it down
my mother told me
you kill all you believe in
so how come i believe in you?
As the sea I swell
I used to know myself well
Before you became my mirror,
I could see myself clearer
You’ve broken my shell
round or chords
how could we have known
words betray me
our innocent drive
that purest belief
of our beautiful youth
i want to resist
these powerful ties with the passing of time
with all of my mind i try
but instead
i will bury my pain in the shower drain
i will do my best to remember
if i am to live my life full of beauty
i will, too
live a life full of grief
As the sea I swell
I used to know myself well
Now I can feel my walls breaking
please don’t mind the shaking
and swear you won’t tell
As the sea i swell
you used to know yourself well
but as we grow with the seasons
the one thing that’s not leaving
is your spell
apples
sharing apples in the sun
i picked them,
they’re from the heart
the core is soft
as i bite, in deep
the flesh hums
and writhes a little
i’ll lap your words off the floor
where they fell, revealing
love-lined, love-laced
the hole in my pocket
holds a secret dear
love got lost in the lining
smiling ear to ear
she’s a think tank
strangles the cat
that dress looks just as good on her
as does the devil’s hat
wage a war in nighttime
seams of your duvet pop
you’ll last a second, maybe
or a minute tops
love buckles her knees
in my jacket pocket
praying for the death of
my prowling puppet
fool’s gold (one verse)
helter skelter, hand to mouth
willow’s hair stray and spoiled
mercy’s eyes roll blindly back
‘till reapers return with fools gold
my lover’s basket
thoughts spill out like the flowers
in my lover’s basket
lovely little things, both
her mouth runs laps like a panting dog
unwilling to compromise
for existing ecstatically
flowers spill from my mouth
hanging there, still
as the presence of a dead loved one
thieves of reason are my baby and me
humming prayer into
each others mouths like poison
blinking in the mirror
confused
long night
softly bruised
a French perfume
cloth on skin
a hand
bluntly sovereign
held open unarmed
intentionally…?
softly palmed
there in the wrinkled sea
… a clementine
disciplesong
you’d sing the disciples right to your door
that pretty mouth can’t hold it in
preaching, as a bird of prey
spreading gospel like honey
do you believe the lips’ chorus?
if you listened, would you pray?
hands and knees scraped, trembling
on the ground from which they grow
the fruits of your labor
bitter and soft-cored
a song
if he is a stone lion
i am the ivy that fills his mouth
the night is deafening as we stand
between north, west and south
his flesh hums under the lantern light
where God answered me bravely
liquid eyes cross mine
kisses full of maybe
Mother
Mother was kind on loss today
she laid me a bed of roses
they prick lightly, almost lovingly
as the bare of flesh exposes
almost, almost
lost in the folds of skin so dark
the earth here is red and bleeding
into the leftover green of dying grass
two hands intertwined while meeting
for the first time almost believing
Mother lay me down in the deep
where the walls surround and plunder
pluck away at the skin of the living
the dog smiles with a crow, a murder
in its open mouth
almost dead, almost