New Poems

 
I.
 
Upon the hills
The air was dry
And dead trees hung
Beneath the sky
 
As cold wind blew
The snowflakes fell—
A frozen kiss
From icy hell
 
The boy was young
Of thirteen years
His father weak
And full of fears
 
The trail grew bleak,
They couldn’t see
And as it snowed
The boy did plea
 
“My father, now
The path is nigh
Without some warmth
We’re soon to die”
 
“My son, Noël,
Let’s shelter take
Within that shed
By Frozen Lake”

A rose lost its stalk,
Alone on the sand, cannot
Be the old fair one.

magick child,
with firefly eyes
witched away
my heart

willful, wayward,
wicked one
with stardust laugh
I was undone

buttercup, treebine,
spiderwort, be mine

Magick child
with candlelight eyes
wicked away
my heart

playful poppet,
precocious sprite
windblown colours
on moonlit night

honeysuckle, hedgerow
nightshade, don't go

magick child
with foxfire eyes
stole away
my heart

So I’m running through the airport like a mad fuck

Trying to keep my cool, but

I can’t believe I’ve booked this plane

For this early in the morning - never again.

And like, I know I’ve got my printed sheet,

The “print at home” boarding card should work a treat

a sketch in autism: morning ritual disrupted

hot circle bursts open
throws brightness
through clear square
in sleeping place
walls throb color

the me of me sways in and out
waves of hurt
snake around my paper coat
the mother has touched

the mother voice echoes
sound upon sound
scratching the hard insides
that keep me from melting

led to place where smell
become shapes in mouth
see round cup
white water rains on brown specks
noisy in mouth like smashing rocks

I search for you
On a thousand faces
Caressing the marks of time
...and pain
Within the places that
Slipped through the cracks
Forever hiding in shame
I reach for you
With constant embraces
Examining the souls
Of the sad
There
You can be harvested
Polished and Glorious
Waiting to be recognized
... and applied
Because you reside
In all the races
Within all aspects
Of life

Successive years of falling leaves, as gold-
Enameled flowers flitter out, around
The garden nook, with simple stories told
To fragrant crowds at play on dampened ground.
 
This time we sipped a cup of coffee cold
And spoke of speckled, thinning hair once brown;
A crow called out, as if a black-winged scold
That hits its mark and pulls us twisting down.
 
Through God we came from chaos to earth and skies,
And painted all that’s dark a color bright,
As child-like wonder shows through gleaming eyes