of The Inn of Stormy Nights
If you
want for light
for
day for night.
If you
wish for land
for
sea for sand.
Sink
feet deep.
Let
snow hug you
to
sleep.
In
this dark and cold embrace.
When
all stars are erased.
Find
futures inside fire.
Where
for light for day
for
night, for all conspire.
To
bring together a last daydream,
a dervish in deep moonbeams.
Whosoever held the kingdom’s key, stood at the crest of the cliff, where sea meets sky. The world dropped into a palm and sat in the skin of temptation, ready ever and always, to fly up to Polaris in the shape of a wren. Cut from the same string as the pen which scratched the lettered prison and pressed the wax seal over the kingdom’s key.
There was a Box with Time Inside
If time walked among us
it would swim the shape
of a penny paper squid. Legs inked out
for terrible eternity.
Nothing worse than living in a box with a squid.
Says language which draws obscurity
to describe a box of time.
If time lived in a box
it would swim in the shape
of a penny paper squid. Legs inked around
for terrible eternity.
Silence meditates in the skeleton city
A place where metal mountains
grasp for an iron sky
Only to crumble. Crushed by the dome
of earth which rumbles, rattles
and shudders away all that sings green.
A rain falls and makes white noise
of the spaces between. I dart
from cover. To cover, coat hissing.
In this place where acid cascades from the stars
styled as sheet music printed in fades.
Shades of colour fill the deep breath of silence.
Inside the pauses, I am hugged by silver bones.
I don’t feel so alone.
They came from the sky our chariots of clouds Thunder rolling under the wheels, eagles swerving at the fore. They came in the silver light of the moon rose high and round, playing peek with the dark. On the ground heads turned up, starlight eyes desire. Hands twitching, grasping at their sides. Desperate wishes to …