August 2012

 

Quick in the balmy days, maybe a million dragonflies

Shimmering in the sunshine above the tall grass

There’s something special about the smell of grass

And squinting in the sun, at turquoise dragonflies

 

Summer flies by like a warm breath on your cheeks

A drowsy haze over heavy lidded eyes

The days are melded in other days

Until it’s a long stretch of unending summer days

 

Is there a world beyond this, of busy people and whirring machines?

I walk past them all, I don’t care

My head is in that place of endless time

Where blue dragonflies flit about on hazy summer days

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7 November 2013

Brief sunlight
The last days of fall
Some laughter, a murmur of voices
Birds in the sky
Leaves fluttering with flags
A bite in the wind
To remind us of winter
A pause in the running day
To stare at the steam
Weaving out of teacups
And motes of dust in the light
Allowing yourself to dive straight
Into thoughts that never surface
The why, the how and what
What is this I feel, what is it I want
What is it that really matters
In brief moments of sunlight

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13 November 2013

The days fit strangely
Like an ill fitting skin,
A lizard’s new tail, forever broken
A gray haze despite the skies
Endlessly blue, cruelly vast
Smoke and the smell of secret things
Eyes that burn to close
With sleep, and on dreams
This inexplicable grey
Like icy mist in my bones

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10 December 2013

December’s sun, unfiltered,
Blazing from the steel skies,
Scorching cheeks into dryness
The smell of tar on the road,
And a bubble of voices,
Yours, separate from the rest
I count crows wheeling in the blue
Let your words roll in the wind
Leaves, bright yellow, sail to the ground
Everything moves slowly
Painless this bright, bright day
I am steeped to the brim with warmth
Liquid, the colour of your voice
Strips of shadows fall on your face
Dancing in your eyes the playful light
I can almost hear the song in your head
Soft and clear, close to your lips
The small shiny scales of the Universe
Perfectly unruffled
There’s nothing
I can ever want of this moment
Stained in memory
With this orange scented air

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you

I have blankets and pepper-tea and a good book (they said) and you. But my mind slips like grease from the claws of jagged black letters and falls back to you. In my warm corner I have orbs of lights that come from the words you say, they follow me. So later when I say ‘hello, world’, they warm me and hold me up. I get all my shine from you.

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19 January 2014

Because you are more often attempting what appears to be poetry,
And perhaps the words are not musical, a literary masterpiece.
But it flows, bursting at seams,
With your private, special, magical meaning.
Attempting to soothe that searching in you,
That makes you venture out with hope.
For a moment the expression, cryptic but free,
Fills you up with warmth where there was want.
For a while, it works its magic on you,
Cleverly, with the chill air and cloudy skies,
And memories of words and laughter and glances
They meet in the ether where you sent it
And conspire to wake that longing and another piece again

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24 January 2014

Write, says my heart,
I can almost see the letters drip
Like dewdrops from my fingertips
Just punch the right keys
String together letters and words
Like they’ve never been before
In a pattern your eyes will be the first to see
But the feelings are wordless
They erupt inside me
But refuse to materialize
In my dreams they tell stories
That disappear with the dawn

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28 January 2014

There is an empty place where you used to be
The air here shimmers and moves with your memory
I find myself wishing I could cross time like distances
So I can find myself next to you when you were here
I am greedy for your time, I claim all your lonely moments
The stretches of time when you stare into space
I will them to collide with my wasted hours
When I am speaking to no one, and wishing for you
You and I in the same space and time
With the sky wheeling above, the grass growing below
And nothing to do but be, pull this moment into eternity

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2 February 2014

Happiness is quiet, it gently smooths your frowns. Like the lake at dusk it ripples and is still. It smiles like the crescent moon above, and speaks to you with love. It turns the cries of the cicadas into music and blows it to the breeze. It untangles those old knots with ease. It warms shadows for you to find comfort in, and in little pools of light it throws joys for you to find.

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19 February 2014

Sepia toned photographs in your mind
Coming alive as you reminisce
Yielding from within it
The scent of burning pine leaves
The warmth of winter’s sun caressing your face
Deceiving you, because there was no song
Where it now gives you a long forgotten melody
Written for love and some haunting loss
By someone who felt all this in a distant past
Somewhere far away, that place in that moment
Long ago, belongs to us alone

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