Friday, December 23, 2011

When the music died

When the music died,
mist rose from the ground
like rolling waves of silence,
engulfing sight and sound
in its thick white shroud,
and tears of sorrow
clung to lashes
in silent reflection,
before surrendering
to a final echo.

Friday, December 2, 2011

Hide for another day

The mood turned to brown
in the hot midday sun
as the stifling air withered words,
struggling to make their way
from the cool depths
of the lakes of suppressed emotion.
 And the chirruping crickets
run riot with thoughts,
disassembling them as they form,
watch as they dissipate
in the turmoil,
lost, ere they ever began.
 In futile surrender
you shut your eyes,
let the hot wind blow silence through,
your world that is dim,
that slowly recedes
and you hide for another day.

Saturday, October 8, 2011

The last dance of regret

Deep was the voice that rumbled
with the silver-gray sheet
that swathed the skies in an instant.
The words, an abrupt chill
that sunk into every essence within its reach.
Shoulders drooped with the tail of every creature
as the meaning absorbed into their soul,
and regrets danced their last dance
on empty, deserted stages,
unworthy of thought and awareness...

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Tuesday, October 4, 2011

The edge of reason

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    'twas the voice of evil spirits loudly rumbling in her head,
that decided fate the day when the clouds were tinged with red,
driving her to edge of reason far beyond accepted norm,
carelessly surrendering to the deeds that cause you harm. 
    And she lay down on the smould'ring bed of fire and it spread,
to the confines of the sacred heart where no one dares to tread,
seeing in her mind's eye tears turn to acid and deform
everything that she once cherished, yet she was beyond reform.
    So she sank into the dusk of the waters laced with lead,
on a path that's sure to take her to the lowest of seabed,
while the frantic pleas from lovers stead'ly faded in the storm,
left her soul in desp'rate need for a breath, just one, of calm.
   'twas the voices of the angels that pierced fin'ly through her head,
woke the need to live and banish from her soul the clouds of red,
driving her to push away from the edge towards the dawn,
yielding to the longed for arms, to their warmth, to which she's drawn.

Tuesday, September 13, 2011


To feel the intent of a nurturing glance,
to bask in the sunlit moon,
when water transforms to the nectar of chance,
and time builds a palace from ruins.

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Tuesday, September 6, 2011

The Anchor

Is it the chaos in our head,
spinning like a vortex,
that keeps us doing that which we do,
repeating, duplicating, returning again and again
to the bleeding brook that runs
through the nightscapes of our mind?
... forever recreating
wounds best left forgotten,
revisiting the pain of our growing years,
fed by the need to comfort ourselves
with that which is familiar,
barring the way to the uncomfortable unknown,
to a page in a book still waiting to be written -
too fearful to be free,
too timid to try,
too afraid to lift the anchor that weighs...

Thursday, August 4, 2011

The reason

A frown appears on her serene face and her green eyes darken
as the faint cool breeze touches the back of her neck
and picks up tendrils of her hair to paint streaks of worry
on her smooth complexion.
Foreboding stiffens her posture,
becomes rigid and erect,
as the blue skies turn grey, then black,
washing away every smile and all color,
and the wind starts to howl around the cobblestone streets,
lifting dust and leaves and skirts in the air,
creating hunched down figures, rushing
to escape the cold, to escape the north wind,
to escape from the winds of change.

And this winter raged long, blasting through roaring fires,
stealing the steam off mugs of hot chocolate,
as she watched the once lively streets become empty deserted alleys
where windows mirrored the long leaden faces of house-bound children,
exhausted by games of scrabble and scolds to cease the running in the hallways,
their eyes reflecting the cold silver grey of the trees,
willing them to change, to change back to green,
to come back to life and emerge from this everlasting winter.

Despair sunk through her soul, driving away her peaceful smile,
banishing the spark of hope that once danced in her eyes,
and with leaden feet she climbed the stairs
to her room, to the cupboard, to her richly embroidered valise
and resigned, she starts to fill it,
with her colorful scarves, peasant skirts and broken dreams,
before settling in her chair to wait for the dawn
which will lead her through the winding road
to another place, another time, and another dream...

Yet the daybreak brought her footsteps, brought a knock to her front door,
which when opened brought a fragrant touch of the warm south wind
that melted away the darkness, the despair, the hopeless grim surrender,
and a rush of heat flooded through her, bringing back her cheery grin
and dancing eyes, reigniting the flame of passion and desire,
which she embraced with abandon, accepted without question,
for before her was the reason, was the answer to her prayers...

Friday, July 8, 2011

Black and white

As the sunlight feeds the shadows,
so a silver glow is spread
by the moon in deepest darkness
where the brave ones dare to tread,
and befriend the inner demons
that are hidden in their soul,
for the light and dark united
is what makes the psyche whole.

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Hidden consciousness

Tears overflow from dreams into wakefulness

as the past and the present

intertwine to form

a consciousness which

until now was locked

in the hidden chambers of my mind.

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Saturday, June 11, 2011

Broken Windows

I wish I could see myself, just for a day,

for an hour, to see what you see…

Would I see a girl striding through this here life

with a strength and a stance to match,

who’s cushioned the blows that don’t leave a mark

who’s risen against the odds?

And does she cruise flighty and carefree each day

through streets with golden planes,

gifted with flair from the hands of the gods

that rule the night skies to refrains?

Or would I spot glimpses of tortured scarred flesh

that burns to a constant stream

of pain that’s residing so deep in her soul,

yet bound by an endless scream?

A scream of abandonment, careless denial,

for a love that she gladly bestowed

into the hands of a traitorous being,

who’s word’s but an empty echo…

I wish I could see myself, just for a day,

as that confident façade that reigns,

instead of submitting to unspoken fears

so deeply entrenched in my veins.

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Wednesday, May 11, 2011


When the heavens intervene,
subtle images appear,
little pieces start to fall,
in your psyche as they sear,
through the blinkers placed in time
over eyes that chose to rest,
behind ignorance that soothes
nerves unraveled by the test
of acknowledging unwanted
truths we hide, prefer to change
into reasoning man-made,
in a limited dark range.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011


Let me lead you to temptation,
let me sway your will to cede,
close your eyes and follow that
which my touch you to will lead,
and forget yourself in me
as my whisper takes you deep
into my arms where you'll find
the fulfillment of that need,
that is smold'ring in your eyes,
that is burning through your skin,
let me take you to the darkness,
to the pleasures born in sin.

Monday, April 11, 2011


Every footprint that I make
will be washed from this here shore,
yet the touch I leave today
will remain forever more.

Saturday, April 9, 2011

Before dawn

In the silence and the darkness in a cold and moonless night,
it's an anguished scream that tears through the soul with all its might,
as the dark fear has a grip on your limbs and on your heart,
takes the breath from hope that's seeking your direction to re-chart.
Feel the anguish, feel the pain, feel the deeds that brought regret,
feel the anger, feel the heartache of the past you can't reset,
and the dark will turn to shadows, turn to dawn if you have time,
walk towards this unseen promise, in the daybreak church bells chime.

Thursday, February 24, 2011


Ice-cold desolation washes over me as I see the sand, blowing in waves across the cracked, deserted tarmac. And icy fingers tug at my hair, tearing and tangling the once smooth facade, while a bolt of lightning rips through the black storm clouds rushing this way... a world transformed in the blink of an eye, gone are the sunny skies and the impression of summer, removed in an instant by the harsh force that's winter's grip on my heart.

...bitter the taste of wasted years
spent in a state of illusion,
craftily woven with marked intent,
promises windblown and broken.


Saturday, February 19, 2011

The Shadows of the Moon

My spirit withdraws
from the earthly realm
of the shadows the moon bequeaths,
and in silver veils
my soul can see
the truth as it hovers beneath
the full moon that rose
this glorious night,
to grant me the knowledge deserved,
lifting the pallor
of trapped blinding lies,
for chained earthbound mortals reserved.

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Sunday, January 30, 2011

The gypsy

How I wish I were a gypsy, travelling through this big old land,
without future to direct me, without past to hold my hand,
free to wander dusty sideways, with the wind as my best friend,
sharing fruits in shady orchards, whilst the stranger's ear I lend.
I'd return the gift of nectar, as I see unspoken dreams
dance behind the shaded eyes, a desire that there gleams,
for a freedom never tasted, for a touch before unfelt,
and bewitched he settles back, for the hand this day had dealt.
He now listens to the words, as they flow forth from my lips,
possibilities arise, as he deviates from scripts
written by the hands of others and from blinkered visions old,
meant to tie him to the known, that would keep him in the mould.
Although brief the hours spent, in my time and in my care,
he discovers magic sights in the softness of my stare,
'ere returning to his life, 'ere I further wander through
dusty sideways in this land, for the next dream to renew.

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Monday, January 24, 2011

The Echo

Catch me in your arms,
I am ready to fall,
to trust in your words,
to heed to your call.
I have reached the end here,
the end of this road,
catch me as I fall,
your voice now, an echo...

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Tuesday, January 11, 2011

The silence of your being

Soft are the murmurs of the night
drifting from the shadows left by the descending sun,
probing your shell, slowly piercing
through the armor you've adeptly erected through the day.
And resistance crumbles as the stars start to sparkle
in the darkening sky that spreads its blanket over your soul,
and you break down and cry for the lost yesterdays,
for the tomorrows that never may be,
as the harsh truth dawns with the rising moon,
leaving you alone, deserted, in a self-created exile,
in the silence of your being,
in the emptiness of your soul.

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Friday, January 7, 2011

It's time to go home...

The road stretches out, endlessly, a golden mile too far,
that the thought of moving forward
is as appealing as yesterday’s feast,
congealed and encrusted in the sink,
the remains now lying rotten at the pit of your stomach
in the breaking dawn.
For your soul is just too scarred
to see the beauty of the mountain range hovering on the horizon,
and the wounds too raw to appreciate
the fresh sea air drifting just past their peak.
And by a force not your own,
you slow down, come to a halt
at the roadside at the edge of tall waving grass.
You open the door,
not bothering to close it behind you,
and start walking into the wilderness.
Slowly, tentatively at first,
then your steps start to quicken.
Faster and faster.
Each stride longer than the last
as you try to outrun
all the thoughts whirling in your head,
to leave behind the memories,
the words that still echo in your ear,
the touch of the hand that's still warm on your back,
and the tears that flowed freely down your cheeks,
as recently as today.
And you come to halt at the furiously flowing river.
You stare at the torrent and the angry rushing water,
and you wonder if you'll take that step,
into the maelstrom of oblivion.
To bring an end to the infinite torture your mind has subjected you to,
induced by the realisation
that that which you’ve lived
was the design of another’s creation,
and you were just along for the ride,
while they operated the controls.
You were but a puppet
at the hands of the master of manipulation and deception,
which you were too naïve,
too gullible,
too trusting
to see.
And the thought of redeeming their soul
and to carry on is just too much to bear,
too much to put behind,
so you take that step into the yielding, ice-cold mud
as the wind tears at your hair
and the skies cry with you
and you wait for the current
to lay claim to your soul,
as you welcome the coming silence.
It’s time to go home…

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Sunday, January 2, 2011

Shimmering warmth

The room is filled with gently flickering candlelight
while entrancing scents waft through the air,
capturing the melodious voices, sparkling with laughter,
enchanted by the music that's caressing their soul.
And its through this haze of shimmering warmth
that I watch you from a distance,
your movements, your lips,
your eyes that dance,
that stir awake a longing,
borne from the touch of long and hot nights
spent at the mercy of your love,
now teasing the edge of my consciousness,
driving a desire to own your flesh once again.
I watch, mesmerized, as your eyes lift, infinitely slow,
before locking my eyes with an intent
running invisible fingers lazily down my spine,
delivering promises, bent of fulfilling,
the need that's written in my eyes...

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