Is it possible to feel

Stars
hairs upon skin
her universe
ever growing
light
falling into death
naked beneath time
silent in the study of life

Stars
how many heartbeats will it take
her open copulation
laughing in the dark
birthing shadows
gargoyles
crimson pools of thought
expanding
dying
silent

Stars
is it possible to feel
her soul
light
life
the beginning?

Is it possible to endure creation
without losing one’s mind?

I thought she was an angel

This story was written in 2013 in response to Kellie Elmore’s prompt: Time & Place

You’re young. You are standing in front of a shop window watching something on the black and white television inside. A woman grabs your hand and runs down the street, pulling you along…

***

The image on the screen … embedded inside my mind like a dart in a board.

Her grip was like that of a feather gripping the sky; I thought she was an angel. When she looked down on me as we flew along at speeds my little legs were incapable of understanding. I saw in her eyes a smile of something unseen on earth; on the little bit of the earth I had seen in my young life.

We flew so so fast, the dart came loose and the image was gone as it became mixed with the blurring of the streets and cars and the people, the ignorant people. Ignorant because I didn’t cry, because I thought she was an angel, my angel, for me.

She smiled with her mouth too, but that was a different smile. It was her eyes which captivated me, captivated me …

They caught me each time she looked down and when she turned her face away towards the horizon, I ached for those eyes to return to me and when they did, they were beautiful … I thought she was an angel.

I thought she was an angel

but I was wrong

… and now I am.

I have tree sap in my veins

***

I have tree sap in my veins
Rainwater in my tears
My spirit plays with thunderous joy
as the sunshine in my soul
bleeds

and as petals of love
open and sway
a fragrant caress
comes my way

I have tree sap in my veins
Lightning in my heart
My bones ache for the grind to ease
as the vision in my sight
fades

and as the night
makes way for day
a haunting feeling
comes my way

I have tree sap in my veins
Birdsong in my brain
My skin teeters on the edge of time
as the moonlight in my shadow
shines

and as sleepy waves
roll over my clay
I close my eyes
to dream of the day

***

Watching the snowflakes

Silent explosions of creation appear beyond the window
as I listen to, or am bombarded by, the eternal ringing in my ears

Silence is an impossible dream

Watching the leaves in spring stretch and yawn
Watching the rose petals romance the world
Watching the beautiful deaths colour the postcards
Watching the snowflakes’ individualities show us how

Silent explosions of creation appear beyond the window
and here I sit crunching ginger biscuits

Silence is an impossible dream

Artificial Atmosphere of Civilization

~

Listen to, breathe in and taste the pungent
where once music sang amongst the trees
where once the air invigorated
where once eating was real
and where each was once one’s own mind
but now
in this time of greed, futile deaths, global one-upmanships & scaremongerings
and the religious balloonings of creation
we are surrounded
by an artificial atmosphere of civilization
where trees are shrouded in tentacles of grease and darkness; their songs all but forgotten
where our lungs are attacked on a daily basis; antibodies scream in disgust
where chemical wrapped food tastes of food wrapped chemicals; painful temptation encroaches
and where what we think, what we are and what we believe is no longer ours …

in this artificial atmosphere of civilization, where only the perfect make the shelf

; sorrow begets perfection begets sorrow

~

~

With thanks to Achilles Daunt for giving me the title