A beautiful poet singing beautiful poetry
lost your wife
went to hades with your life
made king hades and Persephone shed a tear
and let you in
Resolved to rescue your beautiful dead wife
but you would fail
When you turned back she fled back into hade’s shades
destroyed by love
destroyed by love and loss
pray to the sky that you will meet her again
but love is just beautiful blood stain
and what we are is merely blood, fire and dust and a soul.
In the days when the exception they say
doesn’t need correction.
we are all creative
but some have it beaten out of us
at some stage
the war the exceptional person rages
is either to have their words heard
or to keep their creative side alive
and not have it brutalised or strangled
an Angel or messenger of light
has to fight to maintain their angle of light
and their perspective and sight.
When billionaires are sitting on more money than a lords hoard
and their money is in a tax haven abroad
can a billionaire work harder than overstretched nurse?
and the nurse has to go to a food bank because of their empty purse
It’s exploitation of peoples hard work.
DNA well folded origami in our bodies
Oddly containing characters characteristics and souls
We grasp at a identity
Maybe DNA is musical notes
and a rhythm
To our heart beat.
In this aching
waking dream we live in
I love you is hardest thing to mean
but waiting has no solace
my heart I polish for you
but will the stains wash out?
I won’t doubt you are worth it.
Reaching me through the void
I cried out to you when they held me down
In the A and E ward I told them who you were
But like big cats don’t always purr
you are something to be worshipped
glorified and feared
If perfect love has no fear
it is love that has been realised
I wait in the shadows
dancing in the dark
love is the flames not just the spark
to light my way…
The gobble de gook monster on your shoulder
do we get wiser when we get older?
I remain stuttering mumbling
my mind rumbling
I can’t actualise or realise
I cannot translate between mind and pen
and even when
I try to speak my tongue drags across the words
like a flat tyre on a bike
I wish this gobble de gook monster would take a hike
but he’s a part of me like the stories I tell
and even hell
is something I can’t be without.
People like little rivers and tributaries
flowing to the sea
entwined in words with faces dripping in kisses
but I sometimes wonder about what the eye misses;
contact between humans
sometimes we go bone dry because of the shyness of our eyes
which flow with tears
with our fears
which ravage our souls with plastic aspirations
and metallic and jewelled frustrations
has the black phoned mirror stolen our souls?
Or is the water the constant flow of love enough to water our souls?
Tears dry up easily
but my love is still fragility
I tend to my life like a garden
but sometimes you just have to let it grow
even the with the weeds you know aren’t good
life is better when we are understood
and sometimes we have to accept
the trauma that lies dormant
except for times of stress
when it grows nevertheless.
In the fire
the end of time burns
I was the last messenger
I pray that I will hold you when the fire comes.
by those who are asleep
so deep they couldn’t hear
and left over fears
from the last explosion
which began with an emotion
love which burns with hope
I fear the end
but lover time has to bend
and be refashioned
A twisting entity
that eventually brings change
My search has ended
When two worlds collided
I expected fireworks
but they burn away
Fiz pop and bang
then no longer are a thing.
I love you but colours fade
I love you
my deeper shade my midnight blue
I know this life’s a prison for some
but I love it’s sweet bitter agony
it’s the loneliness I hate.