We should make love upon a stage:
watched by millions upon millions;
our sighs and whispered words,
amplified and multiplied,
spread out amongst the stars.
All the world should see the beauty of your flesh -
aroused, your body flushed and wet;
your eyes half-closed,
your fingers curled upon themselves -
the glory of your hungry cunt and breasts.
The earth should tremble when you [...]
Writing words of milk and honey on your skin,
my fingers feather light and anvil strong,
raising nipples and goose flesh mountains,
indelible words of love and want,
all over you and into your skin:
mine to touch and to behold
(yours to offer or withdraw.)
Lower and lower the feather pen goes.
Milk and honeyed words and truth,
seeking for, reaching for, now [...]
Hanging from the branches of the Tree of Life
(snakes hissing up and down its trunk;
flies buzzing ferociously)
we grew and ripened -
till
(heavy with desire;
leaking sweet corruption)
thankfully we fell.
I am made of wild unreason,
running through my bones:
unreasonably proud and lustful -
wanting all
and touching all
and drinking, fucking, wildly trusting all.
All of me is all unreason,
all my thoughts exploding wildly:
butterflies
that start as demon storms -
storms that have no centre
and no check your luggage points.
All of me is wild unreason,
Gypsy blood that’s raining
from the bluest skies:
fierce [...]
I can see you naked in the morning,
opening the windows,
letting out the night.
I can taste the smell
of morning on your breath.
Early sun-beams stroke your body,
coat your hair with baby light.
Your eyes still moist with dream,
your lips half-parted;
breath
as sweet and warm
as sheets,
now left abandoned
on your bed.
I can see you now:
naked,
looking at the sky -
your back to [...]
I would like to read you slow pages,
feel the warm trickle of ink,
slowly engaging in summer enchantments;
taste the sweat of old spells
on sandpaper armpits and sandpaper tongues.
Sing a salty song of lust;
trust these old parchments, brimming with life,
covered with dust
and dripping, burning wax
of solemn seals and stolen keys.
Read you slow pages,
feel the warm trickle
of slow [...]
Walking through neon-lit rain,
turning a corner;
cutting a deck of choices,
turned to stone,
crumbling in his hands,
teasing the soles of his blackened boots.
Turning a corner,
turning a card
that holds no surprises;
the sound of spades
(neon-lit)
hitting stone.
Sparks of night dust,
like babies in a garbage-can
or pink and cosy cradles,
die without regrets,
without a tale,
a thought of time or loss.
Turning a corner,
facing the [...]
There is a time of life,
a time of night
that words don’t come to us
so easily -
no more the swarm
of music-torn, sweet words
or long, soft letters;
no more the simple confidence
that sentences breed life
and love;
that a sun-touched waterfall
of ways to say I love you
is enough
to make love happen.
There is a time of life,
a time of night
that we [...]
Back to the bridges,
back to the river once more.
Mud floor,
swan ceiling:
back home.
Me and a million other ghosts
dream about some past,
some ever fading future,
that won’t ask us
to take root.
No roots
and no commitments:
here to stay
and here to float,
forever.
No more faces,
no more skin -
the hollow of their throats,
the soft hair on their legs and arms:
no more.
Just silent ghosts,
a [...]
Into your arms,
your warmth and longing -
a drowning in caves,
a wonder of silence and need;
an opening,
opening up.
Your sighs
and tightening muscles,
widening eyes;
you’re all-embracing,
holding me,
now calling me.
Into your arms
and elf-shot nipples,
oven lips and cunt -
and all the words I whisper,
Heaven-bound;
my wild white mist inside you now.
All of me a calling:
take me in.
Be naked,
warm and flesh
and welcome heat.
Now [...]
Dancing lake,
rising to the wind;
your laughter
and the way
your soft-spoken voice,
your wisdom moves
the meadow towards lambs
and crows at play.
The way your fingers
sculpt the air,
your shoulders move
the unseen wings,
that make you angel bird,
waiting for the sky
to kiss your lips,
your eyes and hair.
Dancing lake,
whispering to the wind,
cleansing all that’s ugly,
hateful,
old -
cleansing all of me,
you fill my eyes
with rainbow [...]
This is where the blood goes
and love songs come to rest:
onto the mountain,
praying for wings;
hold me,
Whoever is out there.
And out of body-bag cocoons
voices sing to Heaven.
I can play or be the child
but she will notice.
I can try to hide in words,
all kinds of thoughts and notions;
try to hide inside -
but she will notice.
She listens to me with her eyes:
never claiming,
never needful -
always ready with a smile that waits,
till I am done with all these words.
But she will notice.
I make our bed;
you make our breakfast.
Mister Chamberlain met Hitler.
I drink my tea;
you smoke your cigarette.
Mister Chamberlain got on his plane.
I look at you;
you try and smile at me.
Mister Chamberlain arrived at Heathrow airport.
I go to work and you must study;
we do kiss at the door.
Mister Chamberlain and his umbrella wave the treaty.
There’s nothing to [...]
Telling,
mesmerizing
tails
of
comets,
lost
in
beautiful
reminders
of
frozen
space.
Shooting,
falling
stars:
wishing
nothing
would
and
nothing
could
ever
touch
me.
So you want a poet for the night,
forget yourself,
while you listen to his stories
of love and death and waiting -
and what was your name again?
Lies are so easily remembered.
You are a poem I wrote long ago,
for someone passing in the street.
Are you that poem?
I remember poems.
What was your name again?
Yes, I think I remember now:
April [...]
(And I would offer you my bones
and restless talk of dreams and love?)
Ah yes, but you are beautiful;
a light that moves the universe
from stupid and contained
to God-spill wonder.
(And I would offer you my love
and restless wounds?)
And where am I,
so old and naked,
stupid and alone,
still dreaming of angels.
(And I would offer you my love,
be mid ship [...]
Huntress moon,
your skin so soft and pale
against my dark-filled throat;
my fur and nails and nose,
so open to all threats,
all killing and all feeding sounds,
that fill this nightmare wood.
Protector moon,
your light now seeking me
and keeping me alive;
now telling me
there is no need to hide in fear;
that you will see me safe,
all through the longest night.
Like any God
I have a junkie heart,
existing for the rush
of that one first, true word,
that one defining moment,
that a universe is born;
waiting for that one true touch
of lips and teeth and tongue and throat,
exhaling, eating, breathing, being -
living for the wonders
of that one first syllable of love:
you - and only you remaining.
Where is the spider
that I saw this morning,
mending its web,
recovering but not retreating
from the storm,
that hit its web last night?
And where are you:
what storm,
what private longing broke the threads
that kept you safe?
Are you recovering,
Retreating?
All these nights and all these storms,
these endless mornings:
what are spiders and mere mortal minds to do?
Sipping my third or fourth cup [...]