Love in a New Time

Who’s driving this pen then?
That light behind the light,
Through the leaves,
Beyond the trees?
Cells that lost a certain weight
Are dancing. Laughing like the brushes
Watching us roll in the paint instead.

Who’s dissolving these fruits then?
Flesh fermenting; ultra sweet
Ecstasies of seed
Intoxicated wasp berserkers
Dance songs about these
Heroic deeds. In circular time;
Story and dream.

Fish silver wave tops
Make love to flow with form.
An orgone shake-shake!
Black eyes deep with space
Only ever reflect. Layers in
Before you can finally see
That the ocean is smiling.


Blood Flowing Out

Blood is flowing out,

As a meander, in the thing, slips back in.

Walls of grief like weather fronts

Have battered this island for days,

Named storms, like Britain’s;

Tearing at the social fabric, from within actually

Because we’ve forgotten personal sovereignty

Our language craving creativity

As we buy leave, like our leaven

With our anxiety.

And battles are STILL being fought in this body.

The wars are being waged IN my body;

A ravaged body

May seem like collateral, but is the endgame,

Did you know? Until they’re still,

Until Rome has come, and gone, again,

And prophets have ceased their howling,

What chance to even hear their own truth?

This moon glancing cool across desert growing

Whispers: ‘Quieten children, liSSSSten…’

Blood is flowing out,

As a meander in the thing, slides back in.

And I wanted to show you how I pray

But I was sobbing in the corner;

A no with which I’m creating space for a thousand

More joys in a bigger YES!

Til then I’m battening down:

Let my winds howl, like the wild things

Across the craters, that will form the lakes

From which will birth our tomorrows.

2015, Hard Rain

Another Path

There’s another path:
Behind the towpath,
Beyond the hedgerow,
It shimmers with elderflowers
Like snow.

Who’s using that?
Not the joggers,
Clagged feet and clogged memory.
Amongst the hemlock;
A slower amble.

You slip and follow.
Inspiration; a tang of cicely
For your songs.
Sneak into the wet spots,
Track deer into the pool.

A still trap of
Easy-green pondweed.
This isn’t solid ground;
There’s no hard standing.
Kingfisher flash:

Dart with it into the gloom
Between falling walls
And rotting fences.
Is this a path? Or a desire;
To slide away into the rushes.


Dark Wing

So what do you plan to do with this wild and precious life?

I plan to keep listening to the whispering 

Of the midnight bird’s fluidly pulsing wings

Undulating form, dark and velvet

I long to surge through that texture

On my stomach, softening into the miracle.

With a swoosh, almost imperceptible, a sound like

Blue moon rising at the edge of the world

Is anything more wonderful to imagine

Beyond grasping earth-bound senses,

Than your flight: shape-shifting sheen?

Thicker than water, loved by air’s gusts and streams

A lover’s dance conceived your infrastructure

Bone and sinew and feather, muscular tribute 

The story repeating in every moving moment

Watch your words, for they become worlds! 

This diversity of beauty 

Cannot but be birthed from true love

Coupling beings playing across dimensions 

Like songbirds serenading buds into blossom. 

I dance your sweep, your cacophony, your mischief

Your laughter, your freedom soar. 

I felt the smudge of your wing once

In a journey beyond space-time

Cutting through fantasy and self-deception

Like plumed razors.