January 31, 2009

SUMMER DREAM

Quick foot, soft smile, soft voice, soft form -
Come back to the house before we get the summer storm.

Soft step, slim form, slow smile, sleep-warm -
Wet foot in the garden, let me wrap you in the dawn.

Published online: Snakeskin, UK, October 2008

January 24, 2009

CRYO LIMERICK

The correct thing to do, when you’re dead,
Is have someone take care of your head;
There’s no chance of more drama
Without Futurama -
Don’t say you weren’t warned - act, instead.

Published online: Transhumanity, US, November 2005

January 17, 2009

COMMUNICATION BREAKDOWN

I love you with that love floppy and large,
As one of us a man - the other, dog;
Involved, detached, our life's a travelogue
Of countrysides seen from a rented barge,
"Travels With You" along some river's marge,
Failing at interspecies dialogue
Till tries at talk are lost in night and fog,
Drifting with batteries we can't recharge.

Yet there's no option but to travel on,
Each varied day no different than before,
Wondering if we'll find some magic door
Which, risking entry, gives communion;
And if, by talking, love would be enhanced,
Or if we'd then destroy all we have chanced.

Published: Candelabrum, UK, April 2007

January 10, 2009

OXFORD

Purple voices, rich and rare,
Glowing in the jeweled air,
Handling esoteric themes,
Mysteries like running streams
Dammed with unexpected care
Into almost-answered prayer
Where you’d think no calmness could
In the wildest of the wood.
Thoughts and unknown meanings dance,
Wordwise weave you in a trance,
Darkly glowing, rich and rare,
Purple voices, glowing air.

Published: Candelabrum, UK, April 2006

January 3, 2009

NEVADA

The light in your eyes is as the sun rising behind mountains in a cloudless sky.
Your smile is like the first rain falling on desert land.
The memory of you is like a long-forgotten childhood song.
Your wisdom is like a fresh breeze springing up, slapping slack ropes against their masts.
Your being gives the seasons to my life.
If you should ever go, and take the sun and rain, the breezes and my youth,
I’d sit in the dark cave of my heart, feeling its dry walls crumble into dust.

Published: Candelabrum, UK, October 2006