As a man who weeps,
i do not want to be one of the numberless numb,
the half lives,
casting faint shadows upon the earth,
searing themselves only onto the surface of things,
skin deep tattoo's, of them and us, and you.
Instead, let it be said, i branded your heart,
as the fires wept from your eyes and bled.
I may not last as long,
this song may not sound as sweet,
and the anguish may overcome me in the end,
but let the fire of passions zeal, my friend,
seal a searing brand upon this world from out my soul,
and on this land, may the waters of my tears,
shed over all my years,
flood the sacred blossoms of tomorrow,
a perfumed testament,
to all my aching loving joys,
and sorrow.
In your absence I have taken a lover
she is dark and endless
she wraps me in the deepest night
and holds me firm against her bosom
safe from the rancour of false hope;
A cosseted harbour of meaningless ennui,
I sink into her silent depths,
and feel all light fade.
She demands nothing of me but complete surrender,
and I, knowing only forlorn shades,
am consumed by her lust.
Darkness is her name, despair another,
hopelessness and wanton care.
I sink endlessly into her frightening folds
and I know she will never leave me,
a constancy of dark resolve.
In your absence I have found another
or was it that she found me?
I no longer know, nor care,
I only know that you are not there.
In the spaces,
the silence of those places,
weaves a thread of communion,
the glue between the moments,
of all that we were,
and how we grew, together,
a part of all that we knew,
woven into this fabric,
these gentle threads, of me and you.
For what cannot be said,
resounds in the deep oceans of our moment,
the waiting and the dread,
the unfathomable epiphany,
in the depths of this love.
The sounding bell echoes below,
leaking into this inky silence.
The reaches of those dark moments,
washed upon these beaches,
a fateful shallow echo,
of the silence in the depths of us.
The heaving heavy sighs,
hissing, seething, longing,
rushing upon our shores,
drawn back again,
down into the depths once more.
In the silence,
the whisper of all that we were,
swims in a sea of all we shall be... quietly!
a gentle fluid constancy,
unspoken.
The lightening and fire,
within each soul,
a sated desire,
two halves made whole.
This hearth is rekindled,
to burn through the night,
where once it had dwindled,
a phoenix in flight.
For this earth that rises,
as heaven descends,
embraces each soul,
like a long lost friend.
A largess of the spirit,
each gift a sweet token,
of a love that was found,
between two hearts bespoken.
That met in the midst,
of this body, my bridge,
and flowed with a suppleness,
over each ridge.
Until all that was left,
of this barren stark place,
was a bright and effulgent,
sweet poem of grace.
I lay supine,
your grace washing through me
like a flood of love divine
knowing only the moment of surrender
as the gates open to a light reborn,
soft, and tender.
Awash in a flood of love
that fills even the darkest spaces,
banishing the harsh word
the truculent grime,
so that for a time
not even pain can enter here.
A release of each anxiety
every darkness washed from the core of me,
as we swim into this dazzling sea,
I in thou, thou in me;
And in that place,
where the light surges through the gates
flowing into every memory I have known
soothing each space into which I've grown
I find myself dissolving into a unity of you
that spreads through out my universe
my subtle inner view
until all that is left of me,
left of this vestige of you,
is a splash of luminescence,
painted upon a canvas of dazzling hue.
You do not come from without
you do not echo in some doubt
you do not flood me through my eyes
or ears, or nose,
but through the deepest sighs.
An eruptive eminence of delight
streaming from within
born to some second sight,
a flood of love
caressing me with light.
And there in that place,
I open my eyes
and see the world once more
turn upon its tide
a remnant of the vision
of the radiance inside.
The Ebb and Sway
firstly this, then on again that way
the swirling dips, fulminating slips
erupting from your core
the stirring heart beat of life
pouncing from the womb once more.
This dance that we are set within
cleaves to the moment
abandons past hopes
forgotten dreams,
futures slopes
and speeds upon a wild hearted stream
to plunge into a river of sensual light
a frenzy of liberty and delight.
Leap upon that tide
and know in that instant
no point exists, no line,
no straight and narrow
no course of artful design
just a giddy glory
a sweeping surging rush
spiraling within our own fervent story.
Seek the fire
let loose the flames inside
that you may leap upon a cool sky
and raise your soul upon its sanctity, high.
Know the abandonment of care.
Dance upon a pin,
and in that infinite space,
that timeless grace, within,
explode into the air,
with joy, with love
with no fear.
Begin...
for the music is set
and waits for no one.
In pale strokes of a gentle hand,
you shone upon this midnight land,
and in that light, no sullied sound was heard,
the soft timbre of your flaxen word,
eased between the lilting tones,
the shimmering light,
until in passing shades, silently,
your supple fingers slipped away,
as the cool soul of autumns night,
flows from out the giddy joy of a summers day.
A torpid slipstream of delight,
sweeping in tides, through your opalescent eyes,
a blue rimmed fire, stoked and stroked,
aflame within these skins of desire.
Alabaster shades of soft warm skin,
sinking into full flushed peaks,
entwined within a naked joy,
the dizzy dancing swirl of girl meets boy.
Doused now, within a pale moons light,
the mirrored dreams of a fading night.
Hidden behind a world of woe.
'I will not go'!, I heard you say,
soft and sweet, hallowed and low;
An echo of loves light,
a whispering vow of fateful plight;
Yet even as that breath departed,
we were eclipsed,
the sweet murmur of rose petaled lips,
fading into a shadow spun, slips,
where once had shone a great loves Sun.
Rippling through these clouds,
until all that is left of us,
left of this memory of supple ploy,
the aching sadness,
the numbing cold of winters hearth,
and the slow embers of a heartbeat,
staring dolefully skyward,
bleeding,
beneath the bittersweet light,
of this strawberry moon.
A distant race down a long dark corridor,
like life, like love sometimes;
Flitting between the dark columns and silent doorways,
the brief illumination of an open window,
the dim flicker of a bare bulb,
an echo of a hope recalled,
forever running towards some distant light
at the far end of an endless dark passage,
hoping, hoping that the light
doesn't fade before you tire,
hoping again, that the light opens out,
into fields of wild flowers, summer glory,
the sunlit joy of your own giddy story,
bursting through the doors enraptured.
The imagined transcendence of hope,
a salve in this night of the mottled soul,
the dim and dark place of flight.
A 'corridor of hope',
the narrow passage of each fateful soul,
sharp, as trust is sharp, and narrow,
keen as a razors edge,
that slides beneath your heavy feet.
Only time, and these ceaseless footsteps,
the endless pace of this running game,
keeps that sliver of hope alive.
The narrow blade of uncertainty,
that stretches on forever from beyond,
seems to grow ever longer with each fateful step,
an eternity of unrealized promise.
Who can tell where we run to,
or what we run from,
who but the shadow, knows the light,
knows the fears of those darkened columns,
or the cold steel cut of each fading hope denied,
the passage of the dark passing,
the colonnades of this fates design.
We breathe hope,
raise our weary souls
and hurtle towards that light.
Who is to say whether we will reach that open door,
before the light goes out,
or it closes for the last time,
locked, forevermore.
Will it be a dream realized,
or in some nightmare of our own design,
will we run the endless corridor?
Hope, hope remains...
but sometimes, the faster we run,
the longer that hallway becomes.
Many Thanks to Michelle Merle Pace for the inspiration for this piece, and use of her imagery. All copyright for the image remains the exclusive property of the artist and may not be copied, changed or transmitted without the prior consent of the artist. Thank you Michelle.
The last letter in an open book,
a chapter of verse and heartache,
of soft fluttering airs,
that breathe upon these waters between us.
As you cover yourself for the last time,
your eyes shine,
and in those shimmering dreams,
tears that have filled these seas,
paint your lashes with filigree's of fine dew,
a moistened remembrance of you.
The glistening sheen of your crystal eyes,
disappears within this fading vision,
a distant movement of purple and blue.
This old tattered parchment,
dry as the years of windswept sands,
in this desert of our parting,
is all that i hold of your heart now.
The tattered remnants,
flake from the edges of this memory,
and in the distance,
your song echoes out its final sweet note,
painted in the honeyed rapture,
of our orange blossomed youth.
The last letter in an open book,
hidden secrets,
a chapter and verse of heartache,
and rapture,
and you.
My very greatest thanks to Raine for her gracious collaboration, and wondrous inspiration. All artistic copyright remains the property of Inner Voice Art, and cannot be copied or transfered without prior permission. Thank You Raine :)
