I surrender now
My white flag placed at her feet
– Sleep is my refuge
The winds of grief blow through me
Weathering my weary heart
Yet I cede my love
Head bowed, I lower my sails
– I wake in darkness
The winds of grief beat and howl
My thin vessel rocks and groans
I give up the wheel
And lay on the cold hard board
– I wake to birdsong
The winds of grief carried me
Through the lone dark night again
What does it really mean to simplify your life?
Would life be easier?
Would it be less stressful?
Would you have less anxiety?
What would your life look like if you removed all the things that caused difficulties for you?
Let us make the perfect kiss
One so bright we cannot miss
Our lips will meet at daybreak
A winning kiss we will make
Let us kiss a tender kiss
One so pure we can’t unkiss 🙂
Our eyes will meet in favour
Of more and more to savour
Let us forge a hot hot kiss
One so fierce – an aching bliss
Our souls on fire as we meld
A deep deep bond unparalleled
I’m lost for words
My fingers are frozen
I think of you
A prayer unspoken
You are raw, I see
Oblivious and bleeding
– Your smile is boundless
You speak, I softly consent
To the delicate small print
Fading childhood memories
worn down by the winds of age
are like dim distant echoes
or tiny baubles of proof
that slip from my awareness.
In this slow burn amnesia
ashes flicker and flutter
off the embers of my mind,
and I mourn my forgetting
of unaffected innocence…
And from the low empty spaces
I catch whispered promises,
softly uttered caresses,
assuring and reshaping
a new rendition of me.
There’s an artsy angel
I call her my daughter
Butterflies and brilliance
I love her, I love her!
I could be a lunatic
I talk to thin air
They say you answer
But you’re never there
I could be a nutter
I rant and I rave
Searching for answers
Finding more questions
Where are my angels?
Where are my guides?
Where have they gone?
It’s a matter of faith
Only the ringing in my ears
No idea what it means
I’m stewing in confusion
A crisis of faith
Circling our prey, we flew high that night.
With sober precision we chose our poison
And circled in and settled for dinner.
We picked flesh from each other’s bones,
Like vultures tearing at weakness
And stripping off dignity.
The carnage lay on the table,
And the stench rose from the excrement
Of our unlabelled insecurities.
Then we drank straight from the bottle,
And indulged our terminal struggles
With no concession for a cure.Â
And she said: no more of this!
No more shaming and lamenting,
I choose something else.
Desperately, we ripped and shredded
And cut her autobiography
As if it were our own.Â
But rising from our slick analysisÂ
That pooled like the congealed blood on the floor,
She flew straight for the sky!
Ripe avocado
A healthy wellspring
Coconspirators
A creative fling
Eloquence and grace
Keen understanding
Rich conversation
Inner scaffolding
A cure for sadness
Committed breathing
New gadgets and gear
Innovative bling
The old kitchen sink
Almost everything
But eternally
Ever wistfully…
To hear angels sing