The Pages of Time

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I hear the voices in my head,

and feel the thrum of their words

pulling open dusty drawers

in the attic of forgotten spaces.

Shivers blaze trails up and down my spine

and a silence weighs me down,

as I see the pictures in my mirror,

cracked, many years ago.

They slam through me,

assigning sin upon forgotten sin

to my bare defenseless soul,

in that moment when time briefly stops.

Seconds, minutes, hours, blaze through my head

leaving carnage in its wake, burning down defenses

etched on my skin by the knife of time,

so why will you not stay forgotten....

Divine Darkness

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 I have that special place, where I can escape to, where I can respond without thinking, where there are no limitations and no bound’ries in belief.

And though this space of freedom exists in the darkness, in the tears of ancient memories that have craved an epitaph in the cold rock face in a distant and silent place, its reflection is not what you’ll see in my soul today.
 

Give yourself

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The 7^th night of the waxing moon,
her heart heard the song
always dancing in her dream,
and she felt the magnetic melody
beat its tune in her veins,
warming her spirit, heating her blood
with a thirst to give herself,
inevitable as it was.
 

New Moon

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If you were to take my hand
at 3.33, walk through silent streets,
to the breaking waves at the edge of town,
would you feel the soft cool sand
stroking your skin, the salt of the air
spiralling a colourful trail through your mind,
and when you lie with me at the edge of the retreating waves,
would you see the stars sprinkle your path
‘cross the infinite black new moon sky...

...or would you just have walked
in the dead of the night,
your sense as dark as the moon.

Silver

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In starlit nights
I hear the song
with which my heart you laced,
it’s carried to me
with every breath,
when you fall into dreams embrace.
And my lips seek your skin,
by your scent it is roused,
naked limbs by the moonlight kissed,
instinctive surrender,
your flesh meets my flesh,
‘til we fly through the silver abyss.

Breaking Dawn

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In the depth of your soul a war is raging,

a war so cold in its intensity

it burns everything you’ve ever known

to ashes.

The walls you thought impenetrable

have crumbled and collapsed

exposing everything you’ve kept inside,

threatening to drown you in insanity,

when from the ground a mist starts to rise,

shapeless and soundlessly surrounding you in its cloak,

stilling the air, calming the pounding pulse in your veins,

and cushioning your fall as you sink into the dreamless sleep

of the overextended;  where you can reset the clock,

discard the pointless reminders that have tied you up,

and find the answers locked in your heart.  You rise from the ashes

with the wind still tearing at your hair, but your steady gaze crumbles

the rage to dust, the pain to extinction, and you stand tall amongst the slaughter,

proud, for you are who you are today, before turning your back for the very last time

and walk towards the foaming waves that play with the breaking dawn.

The Erosion of my Soul

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Slow as a breath your spirit leaves my body

as the distance between us grows and grows,

pictures are fading to an old and musty black and white,

and the places you touched now veiled by a layer of dust

that will in time get lost in the slow erosion

of my soul...

The Magic of Magic

 

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what do you do when you can’t believe in magic

in the means for things to happen

that you’ve chanted in the night,

when you can no longer see

the waking dreams for only you,

those that lead you to your hidden space

to where you can be true.

close your eyes right now and listen

to desires wild in you,

follow justly every whisper

even if a path you strew,

                for there’s wisdom in disaster,

                there is death at every door,

                feel the glory of your ecstasy,

                before your name they score.

Surrender

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a few full moons had graced the skies,

and the hours counted down to the final second,

which passed without thought or hesitation.

the knots too tight, fear too great, the dream too small........

your insides are torn, shredded, lifeless is your pulse

that offers your fading soul to the spirits of the black knight,

and you become an illusion just as the shadows

that are lost in a deep deep moonless night.

The Spirit in the Soul

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How much of me belongs to that picture

of a smiling 5-year old, next to my father,

who fated to live through me once more;

and what about the images I built in my head

through listening as a loner, being shaped by knowledge

no-one could clarify for me, to chose the paths

that led to ecstasy and destruction;

or am I here because I am, an absorber of recklessness

and foresight alike, here, to dissolve those images

and seek the sphere where stillness exists,

where my spirit can lie down and rest.

I Think, I Think...

Twisting through my body, lacing my blood

with the taste of your skin, coiled around every limb

the gnawing tension ripples with a thrill of elation,

awareness of the rapture that waits

when our bodies collide and my consciousness dies

for a while....

The Whispering Pines

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The pine trees whisper, whisper with the wind,

as do the notes that float though my mind

from a song that’s not yet been written,

my skin ripples as a nameless bond in me breaks free

and it may be with a touch of fear, or it may be with the surge of excitement

that I follow the whispers I now understand, for to shrink would be to die.

Down the Darkness of the Highway

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When the last call’s been called,

and the echo of the drums

slow to a pulse in your veins,

the shadows behind the open door beckon.

Your instincts hone in to the primal yearning,

and the darkness swallows you up,

as you roar down the highway few ever travel,

to a place without constraint.

The Rebel in Her, the Rebel in You

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It was the separatist in her, who thoughtlessly broke the rules,

who caused the malcontent in her and those she touched

by the motion of her being.

And in this chaos she created,

her passion flowed unrestrained,

her words were writ with tears

'til the battle came to an end.

But her spirit did not rest, she still dreamt the dreams

on sleepless nights in the light of her darkness,

and she chased after them,

boldly took what she wanted;

brilliance and insanity colliding.

It was with her dreamy smile

and gentle words, her open touch

and the sparkle in her eyes,

it was the life that clearly lived there,

that allowed her to still her storm.

Primal Incantations

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She hears the foreign whispers trav’lling through her naked soul,

compelling her to listen, urging her to assent to their call

that draw her to her foreordained destruction.

It’s a primal incantation that weaves into her being;

presenting waking dreams that guide her by shadowing her day,

stealing the clamour that plagues her waking mind,

and screens the madness that threatens to gain control.

It’s a trance that descends like a cooling cloud of mist,

easing her emptiness, curbing her craving, feeding the instincts

that sleep but never die.

 

From Moonlight to Dawn

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…to lie in your arms, feel my sated body become weightless,

hear your heartbeat as my head comes to rest upon your chest,

and to drift off into a silent and peaceful world,

would be that which I would wish for…

…to then wake up with your naked body next to mine,

to turn myself into you, slowly, a gentle awakening,

'til I can possess you once more in the soft grey morning light,

where the sun is resting behind a sheet of clouds....

In the Arms of Darkness

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For hours she’s been staring, motionless as a statue, at the steadily falling rain,

her thoughts a bleak circle without a beginning and without an end.

And just as the water soaks the ground, she too absorbs the gloom of despair

that is her constant shadow,

fogging her waking dreams with a hopelessness and futility

even her sleeping form in the depth of the night cannot escape.

In the sightless vision of this grey haze,

the arms of the spirits of the underworld close around her

and without resistance she accepts their embrace,

to sink into the forever of a numb and frozen darkness,

where her eyes cannot see, her ears cannot hear, her skin feels no touch

and her mind can no longer torture her with the desires of her once living being.

Life's Requiem

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The dreams we dream

feed the fabric of our soul,

that lead us to the edge of our existence

and the pinnacle of our being,

whilst our mind plots the path

from awareness accrued,

bearing witness to our wisdom.

It’s our life that is our legacy

to those whom we have touched,

whether they will seek to drink

the sweet rewards of dreams requiem.

Darkness, Darkness

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Darkness, darkness, come to me,

that I may find solace in the kiss of your shadows,

surround me with your silence to still this wayward mind,

and lull me with your whisper to everlasting peace.

Darkness, darkness, my protector,

the giver of freedom, the saviour of my soul.

Rainy Day Reality

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I want to disappear with you into the dark and stormy horizon,

never to return, to free these feelings, to live them with exuberance,

on terms that are mine, to which you will be bound,

as I’ve risen from the ashes and it’s time for me to soar.

I’ve slit my wrists and fell from heights onto cold frozen ground,

I poisoned myself by living on impulses I no way could control,

I’ve drowned in a cage with an open door and indulged in insanity’s hold,

before truth would allow it no more.

Truth is my Death, I’m ablaze in transformation,

I now own the power to the love that is mine to give

and your love that is mine to take...

I'm Losing You

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Helpless, hopeless, I watch as you recede into the murky alleyway that separates you from me.
I see the flame that once burnt in your eyes with life and vitality, flicker and die.
Through the darkening fog that is drawing you in, you glance back one last time.
It's your cold, distant eyes that freezes my blood and fills me with emptiness, loss, and fear.

Please be strong enough to take control,

to turn from the false promises

of the enslaving voices that echo through you,

those that reduce you to a faithful servant,

colour bleak your world,

fill you with an obsession

that steals your every pleasure,

as your pain feeds the demons strength,

before it claims you as its own.

One Moment at a Time

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...and dawn awakens yet again to the infinite doldrums
that chain my vessel to the heart of despair.
It’s the dejection on a steadily changing horizon,
to the space of soothing silence which I cannot reach,
chained as I am, to the motion that strangles me
one moment at a time.

Behind Closed Eyes

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The surface a perfect calm tranquility,
she listened, she never spoke,
‘though her eyes briefly flashed with thunderous noise
from the turmoil of war in her soul,
'fore the shutters come down, and you cannot see
what is hidden behind those closed eyes.
 

In the Silence

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Come and sit here in the silence
of the waves that crash around us,
that spray salty tears in bursts of boldness,
drawing secrets from your lips.
All the while the seagulls sing of sorrow,
feed on every word revealed,
then fade towards the darkened realm
to discard your cold distress.
Come and sit here in the silence
of the gently lapping waves,
savour the emptiness of your soul,
let me fill you with love, your own.

The Window of the Soul

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There’s a cold wind blowing

through the cracks of the windows,

under doors their fingers reach out,

curl themselves around your ankles

and travel through your bones

‘til their chill has settled in your soul.

Even though your eyes can see the light

of the moon hanging, forlorn in the sky,

its rays offer no comfort, its silver beauty deficient

and you turn away from the window

where relief cannot be found.

Sullen the Skies

Under sullen skies, tears fall softly

in your heart and on your lashes,

but let the mist brush past your lips

and feel the kiss I breathe deep into you.

The Shores of a Moody Lake

  

Let me sit with you at the shores of this moody lake,
drink in your essence, let the rain mute our words
to mingle with the grey murky depths of this watery expanse,
and provoke restless waves that darkens the calm
by the power of the purpose that we spoke when we were there.

Written in the Book of Shadows

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In the dead hour just past midnight, when the spirits awaken

and trawl through the disruptive minds of the night wanderers,

the witch and the hunter emerge from the shadows of the tombstones

as the whistling pine trees called them here this night.

Their eyes brighten, flames alight, as they take each other in

over an expanse that crosses the oceans and the sky

and each breath they ever took.

A barely visible silken thread stretches out between them, joins them,

forming translucent images that float through the air,

taking shape as their constant need and insistent desire,

the urge to possess and be possessed in an ancient ritual

that pierces their skin and enters their soul through eyes who see no others.

Stealing time with the urgency of the condemned,

it's the witch and it’s the hunter, whose fate it was to meet their rapture,

yet their destiny to never unite.

Opposing Worlds that Live Within

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     Some days the buffer, that shields her from absorbing
the vibrations radiated by the greater world around her, breaks down.
It stimulates her perceptual intuition to a higher state of awareness,
tumbling her into turmoil and disorder as she sees too much,
discerning the hidden meanings behind the mask of falsehood that’s ever present,
and she escapes into the silent space in her head,
where conscience doesn’t live and guilt has no place.
It’s the darkness that’s within her, which she relishes without misgiving,
that directs her restless and turbulent soul to a cold indifference
as she submits to a hankering that subjugates and enslaves.

     Yet some days the angels embrace her soul with tenderness
that moves into her being as a breath of sweetened air,
leading you with a thirst, to all your unanswered questions,
drawing you in with just a hint of hesitation, just as was intended.
And the touch of the angels linger in the essence of your being,
shifting fearful dreams to an attainable plateau,
and while you fight for dominance between dread and disturbing awe,
their gentle prodding opens your eyes to possibilities you have yet to consider.

     And then there is the day, where nothing is too close,
where nothing can touch her, and she dwells in an impartial mind
that sees things as they are, no emotions to taint the facts,
where the scales are perfectly balanced.
But the answer she seeks most eludes her, even though she is outside,
of these opposing worlds that live within her being.

     One, brimming with love and exuberance that infects everyone she meets,
and where the beauty of the world so humbles her as to render her speechless.
Then, the ever-present dark side she responds to when she's called,
into the dungeon of shady and oblivious pursuits,
where she sates her hunger and fulfills every shadowy desire,
still she thrives on the gratification of both these needs...

Journey's End

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In the silence of the moon, quietly curtained by the dark,

she is freed of all suppositions that clutter her conscious being,

and elicits a clarity in her heart that leads her back to him,

as naturally as the shimmering water that flows with the river,

through darkness and through light, to its destined journey’s end.

Facing Her Tomorrow

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She awakens each morning to see the pain and doubt mirrored in his eyes,

and is wrapped in the quiet hesitation that surrounds him like a cloud.

The confusion and apprehension that wars in his soul soaks into her spirit

by his reluctance and uncertainty when she tries to soothe his torment.

The dissidence and insecurity of faith destroyed still echoes in her being,

from when she herself had to face the aftermath of trust demolished

by betrayal and selfish actions, without thought to consequence,

which left her with broken wings that couldn’t carry her to the light,

where the night was everlasting, and every dawn brought nothing

but hopelessness and despair.

Now she faces the repercussions of her careless disregard,

when a long forgotten defiance captured and ruled her,

leading her with a reckless pursuit on a heedless quest of self gratification,

with a full grasp and understanding of the carnage that was heading her way.

The Stillness Within

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From stillness I’m born into a world of noise,

from there I walk alone.

I hold your hand but am removed from you,

my thoughts unshared, my deeds a singular quest.

In life detached, solitary in essence,

attached to my shadow alone,

freely secluded in my soul.

 

Echoes of Yesterday

picture source unknown

  

I need to return into my soul,

to my inner darkness under the spell of the full moon.

Here I dwell in the echoes of our yesterdays

in the silence of a hollow, empty heart,

and sink into the bottomless well where I lost my sanity

the day that I thought I lost you...