Syria

Syria

 

Clutched in skin drawn tight around

a white, ignoble rag

there rests a symbol ready to unfurl.

 

The stains on it won’t deplete

a universal message that cries out

to peace

 

though snipers are still intent

on fouling the air with spite

and marking out their arcade of hate

 

so that none shall pass.

Not even the innocents

who crave the purity of a smile

 

The touch of a friend

that might release the fear

in the bones of that tightly clenched fist.

 

Go dusty spectre go

Escape the rubble and malicious stares

Find the soothing air without

 

Rob those that would stifle you

of your inheritance and settle

into the gift of a loving embrace.

a tendency to lie

a tendency to lie. pic

 

 

our thoughts float

heavy in air so easily polluted

that they go as blind quislings in search

of a harbour that they can attach to and berth

for they seek comfort too

and we, lazy souls,

are not their best keepers

as we breath lustily with a desire to satisfy

the vainglorious self

when generosity would better serve

our shared experience

Castaway

Castaway

I am sat

stark naked on a sunday morning

reviewing the dark past,

and stewing

with those tangled, escaping memories

over my part in all of that.

And on a blank sheet of paper,

white, beside me, waiting, innocent,

a pubic hair.

Insouciant. Detached from me

lazing absently

Laughing at incongruity.

Dream On

dream-on

Would that we

could linger in romance

our lovers words coating the air

with a fragrance of intimations

so personal they self immolate

and standing back

 wallow in their dust.

But on reflection I find

a sadness in the hearth

when I rake at the ash

and know the ache

of what was lost in flames

hoping with all my heart

that our souls

have not come apart

in this keening for closeness

we knew once as love

Alpha Bet

 

A sign of passing time 

I scrabble for words

To mark significance

Because this day is a gun

That starts one whole New Year

 

Take aim and breathe

Seek the rhythm

That comes with age

Blood pulsating in the sleeve of me

 

Amazed still that newness counts

Out-shining the past

Which comfort and fear

Would like to arrest

 

Step forward and go

Beyond this

And tease out the letters

That form my DNA

About Face

About Face

About Face

Love torn from a healthy limb

The lover with the loss mourns

Everywhere is stained

Where pain seeps and shrieks

There is an infection of loss

So corrosive it pervades all known limits

To outpace normal life

The witnesses and family

Are caught in a tsunami,

of uncooked grief

Tendrils of revenge

And the clamour of self-pity

But when all is said and done

It is just the opposite of a smile.