I sigh on every star, and leave a kiss with your name engraved, so that it may fall from above, wrapped in light and velvet darkness, that it may reach you wherever you are!
e.v.e.
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Paint a portrait of midnight from rescued dreams
And sound off each heartache at dawn;
A roll call of regrets for the new sun to burn
Down to nothing.
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your parting face: with the look of
the sambharani incense ash with
the look
of flautist killing stars with the look
of: the dominant dream strangled by
pigeonholes with the look
of a slashed festival kite
with the look of foggy dawn
with the look of hearthstone: with the
look of a sandstorm with the look of
a child's
forgotten stories
with the look of an unforgiven messiah
biting cadmium spirits with the look
of friends dying
inside for the same human: with the
look of the ungraspable with the look
of
train collision
with the look of ceasar stabbing: with
the look of fading daimoku belief with
the cacophony of
awry tie-dye pattern
with the look of a decapitated cabrit:
with the look of a babushka in tatters
with the look of
an artist burning their easel with the
look of ravaged aborigine with the look
of amnesia
with the look of
hacked acacias: with the look of brief
depression with the look of a hundred
funeral pyres
with the look of a downtrodden labourer
with the look of postponed mazurka
with the look of
the inevitable
with the look of vacant unmoved eyes
with the look of the back of the head
in departure
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at peace
Of my heart you know the core parts
Only next to yours it can remain intact
It is the light-filled shadow
Of the earliest stillness
Only this can come close
Lifetimes away
To what I've never expected you
To become in my eyes
Were I to be born again
I'd carefully choose your strain
Live through it
You'd be free to leave
I knew there was no ending
You brought me no beginning
All your beauty, by design
Smothers words at the start
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A man walks into a bar
And asks the bartender for a drink
Put it in a glass or a human body either way they are one and the same
The man stands before the glass stands on the counter
His hands holds the glass holds his drink
Then the exchange
Mouth open the glass lets go of all that it is
Mouth open the man seeks to forget all that he is
Lets go of the glass
The glass tumbles
He stumbles
The glass falls
The man is down
Glass splinters glitter on the ground
Stars hidden by the man on the moon
Who has fallen off his throne
Not quite responds the bartender
As he sweeps what remains of the glass into a dust pan
And he commands the man to stand back up
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DON’T FORGET ME
Don’t confuse my sadness with actual pain.
Sometimes it’s because I wonder.
There’s a chaotic battle in my head.
See, I can be happy, I can dance in the rain.
I’d do it all for fun when I’m down to earth.
I can be both – heaven and hell.
Don’t be afraid of letting me in…
Don’t forget me from now,
Don’t forget me from then.
The ups and downs
Wounds and scars
It’s all coming back around and makes me a whole.
A girl you know. A girl you could love.
Don’t walk away from my dreams.
You know you are welcome to me.
I yearn for you to see outside and within.
There is no point in covering,
All the terrible things among those nice.
Open your eyes and accept all of me.
Don’t be scared, that’s what life is…
Don’t forget me from now,
Don’t forget me from then.
The ups and downs
Wounds and scars
It’s all coming back around and makes me a whole.
A girl you know. A girl you could love.
Don’t be afraid of letting me in…
A girl you know. A girl you could love.
Don’t be scared, that’s what life is…
A girl you know. A girl you could love.
Maybe me right here.
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Blackberry Winter
There's no spring here
Only witheredness and ash
Shrouding all viable life
As rotted irresolutions
Grow inside out from me
Until further notice
wpm
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Lambskin
Lambskin, you drive me crazy.
Somewhere inside; you love you,
yet so strong on the outside.
Grab me with those eyes again.
I think I called it "special".
We got wrapped in the little things,
but we're so much bigger.
I still love you in all ways, always.
JEP
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Secret of the Moon
I wish I could grow wings
so I could lift myself up to the skies
and discover the hidden face of the moon.
Discover the secrets that she hides,
and explore that darkness,
those undiscovered paths of black and silver.
I want to hear the voice
that is only spoken for those lucky
enough to hear it. That voice that is only
spoken by that secret face.
But what can I say,
I have always been fond of mysteries,
and what better one to solve
than the one that hides
on the dark side of the moon?
- Ely C. Winters.
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Reminder
Hello Darling
I haven’t written in a while. I’ve been pulling thorns out of my heart. I’m pretty sure I was trying to grow some more roses and I ended up sprouting brambles.
I’m bleeding again. But I’ve learnt not to keep the wells full, a deluge is due each time the hive in my head comes alive. A complete firestorm of thoughts and feelings burning up inside and my chest is heaving…slightly. But I’m surviving, darling.
I tried reaching the moon this time and the storm clouds gathered the second my feet left the soil of my soul and I’ve been drifting in and out of grey - shades of grey. There’s lightning in the distance and the pattering of tears or rain or blood from my feet, running through shards, words stabbing, heart pulsing. Do I need a harness for these dreams, these thoughts - should I make a meal of these ashes I’ve been churning up in the hive?
I’m drifting again. The rain? The river of my prayers is filling up and pressing at the banks and my garden is at risk of going under and this time maybe I’ll breathe better under water, under my own caress against the window panes of my mind.
Darling, it’s out now. Out. Take a deep breath. The thorn, the shard? - you’ve ripped it out and now the clouds are shimmering and the lightning is coming back to you and you’re dreaming under the stars you put up - the hive is quiet. The queen has found a new budding rose and it’s called Hope.
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When night falls I need you so much, the cold builds and the stars seem so distant with their light. The magic you are I need in my arms so that I can feel the night blossom in my eyes, and see the stars shine with a different light.
e.v.e.
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For good or for ill; for better or worse,
To live each day but once is humanity's curse.
You have weathered the storm; done the best that you could,
But still you believe that if only-
Time won't turn back. Get out of this grave.
I promise you that there is a soul still to save.
A heart that still beats. A life that's worth living;
Lay down your burdens, the grief's not worth having!
I promise you that you will not forget;
Rest for a while. We're not done yet.
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your fifty three ghosts and a wedding
like balalaika and the inaccessible
earth-caress
with the wind lashing my face tacitly
you: building mounds to chew yourself
patiently: when the poplars
creak a marigold
garland strewed on
asphalt: with your arm inside my arm
in your soft friend's cotton tracksuit
reciting rumi quatrains
in inexpensive trinkets
faceless nomads only when you say:
let bygones be bygones but only in
theory then cache
bitter almonds
under your armpits
and now your body is redolent of the
sky father and your dogs barking snow
under your lashes
in actuality:
a poetess filled your ears that i had
the entire chamois to myself but what
she
didn't say: was that
her sabbatical was
a fortress
over bones
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Sweet summer and its nighttime
Their soul too would whisper
Of a radiant wish
The world's core between us
What I knew then
To be the celestial
Falling
Descending from whatever grace was left
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it's october // and i don't have time to think about you // but i do have time to think about not having time to think about you // i could say more but there's nothing more to say // october seems to take all the words away // and in any case they've all been said before // i love you you love me // you love me not i love you // you love me i love you // i love you you love me not // i love you not // oh, it's october again
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CLOUDOLOGY
You remind me of Ireland,
of these greenscapes and cliffs.
Life with you is Ireland,
Sunny and rainy, stormy and calm.
Driving as a passenger
hitting all those country roads
from time to time we meet the bumps
but without them we'd be bored.
Look up the sky and see
This cloudology
Tells me you're the man.
Mountain green and our feet in the sand.
You remind me of Island,
isolated within four walls you've built.
I also lived like an Island,
building my castle brick by brick.
Now in the passenger seat
touching your cold hand
all I want to warm it up
before we go back home.
Look up the sky and see
This cloudology
Tells me you're the man.
Mountain green and our feet in the sand.
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