Like a loaded shell

Madness contained 

within my own

Private hell.

If you want me 

to let it out

I can

But are you ready?

For the fury, the fire, 

The unsteady pace

That will muster…

Cluster,

It drops. 

Burn it,

Burn it all....

No good can come of love,

A twisting parchment of 

holy being.

The ceaseless digging down,

A needy seedling its own hole

In the ground.

None more brilliant shiny hate.

Many times I’ve asked

It to wait.

Battered and bruised, up 

But we have not been cast - 

My suitor, abates....

_I just can’t help being ‘romantic’…!_

__

I’m only for now,

Not forever.

And at that moment when

You’ve opened your heart

A teeny tiny crack - 

That’s when you’ll

Look for me but I’ll be gone

Off the righteous track.

Beaten like a weather vane

Left out, like the cat.

In the rain you’ll pine - 

A darkened door 

Empty feelings left ajar

All alone, sophomore. 

‘Are you messing with me?’:

He lament...

You said it was like the time when I broke the eggs;

The splat on the floor –

the gasp, the gooey mess.

                          I laughed,

                                 but with pain.

And said ‘No’, it wasn’t like that, it was worse.

 

The fragile shells breaking, into pieces

                                                                        and cracking again.

 

The yolks and the whites...

The touch of the sheet on his fingers was like falling into a blancmange. A memory of Irish moss mixed with almonds and cream, a thought process lurking in his limbic system, older than his years.

Cold and crisp, yet also soft and silken, a forgetting and a remembering at the same time. Curious.

A sense of travelling over continents and time. Without knowing how he knew, he remembered that whited...

It was the way the light fell down, warmly

falling, crushed to the sound - I do;

complex rivulets on my skin

words cannot express the zeal;

like a bequest benign 

upon my eyes to

arrest longing 

downward lea

gold chest -

threst....

Each time, a sound

Bell-like and wound –

             Saying it’s time; each time is passing now.

 

Cool felt-like lips

Trying hard, forceps -

            Braying out; going out into the breach.

 

Each line and circle

_(It tells me time is both line and circle)_

But the thought drops me into silent abyss,

I cannot go on with mind like this.

 

It’s not birth, nor death.

It’s not fault, nor temptres...

The retreat of my imagination,

Everything in its place and station.

 

Take a breath and let it out,

Simple acts, but profound doubt.

 

A jellygraph lost, the sentiments not copied,

Left solitary in longing, a feeling embodied.

 

An unattended loss - all your own fault.

It was a picture in the haze, all out of sorts.

 

Karma that day, on the Isle of Barra

An objective stolen but focus left clear...

It’s the sound that glistens,

in the late afternoon.

Like the echo of the cicadas

beating out their wishful rhythms.

Everything fails, even daylight.

It’s putting up a punchy fight.

But lost today; lost tonight.

Nose dripping; resigned, enliven. 

An inky sprawl, as the cloud strokes

merge, each one entwines,

with my soul, then submerged.

And I look up, resist the urge to cry.

(no, don’t...

_I failed in the alien department, but this is still a work in progress…!_

__

__

You were like a ladder

I climbed up.

Out of the world I’d known

and always (to be honest)

a little despised.

But as I stood there

(on higher up rungs)

I realised it was harder to

keep balance, my inner ear felt 

lost, choked, muffled.

Thinking words, not hearing.

Lofty ideals and you,

blinking :::

Fear slipping dow...