A beating heart that wants you.
But doesn’t trust the condition.
You separate the light from me.
Distilling my soul to darkness.
My mind, taken by ghosts.
Stolen by this circumstance.
Yet I’m here still, in time.
Watching your eyes glass in indifference.
A cheek turned to god, a palm raised to cheek.
Punching the love out me.
Yet the molassed affection remains.
Clogged to my soul.
Settled under my skin.
Refusing to be washed away by tears.
Disappearing now.
The time came suddenly, like a Monday morning.
Calling you, as a long lost friend.
You took a hold of the avalanche and held your breath.
Erasing all in a brilliance of white and gold.
No more tomorrow thinking.
Or second guessing.
Passing now into something else.
Not man made.
Between interstellar space, and home.
It was so easy to dive in, to dive through the dark this time.
Not like before, when you tried. When you failed.
And the water froze you like heartache.
A new terrain looms in your eyes.
This escape is now your land.
No longer the mistress or mister, the sister or ghost that you tried to figure out.
Your god.
Take the keys and say goodbye once more to the floor which once pulled you.
An inconvenient gravity.
Breathe in, and out again like holy oxygen.
Disappear and explore.
Once more.
Oceans pass overhead.
The cool touch of expanse.
Little pockets of air, like kisses from a ghost.
The light shimmers and spreads.
Banishing the dark which will always retreat.
To caves of hopelessness and congratulations.
Searching, you’ll find the spark.
Little stars in hearts that move and hum.
The light from the great beyond.
Dripped out of golden sides of stillness.
This is a blessing from me.
Bringing the quiet urgency of care and respite.
It brushes over your soul like words from god.
Tender on your tired.
Nighttime will still bring the howls of hollow blackness.
But like the moon rising.
The light is ever present, hidden in treasures.
Reveal, rejoice and recount how it shifts such beings.
Closer to the end, back around again.
To genesis, the delicious destruction.
A new vein growing, each and every day.
Who am I to be thankful?
When all around burns and scorches.
My doing, my ignition.
Why am I so ungrateful?
The garden blooms from my endeavours.
Tears that sprinkled shaking seeds.
I look outside of this, I telescope inside of it.
The crack of God, the sniff of DNA.
How much power do I wield in my dominion?
How much fiction in my fallible fantasies?
I’m at my best in servitude.
Yet resentful of thy master.
God, suffocate me for another time.
Wait until it all turns black.
He wrote my number in his book.
Circled like I’m circling.
Suffering another day.
Wiping away new decay.
Then there’s a crack in the window.
A jar in the door.
Fresh pine air and the taste of Christmas.
Seven again, seven always.
Arrested in comfort under the Christmas lights.
Catching a smile of surprise and joy.
Hung on to a face that explodes in love.
That blanket of nostalgia covers me.
My mother’s hands, pulls it tight to keep the cold out.
But her hands are just as icy.
And the image starts to crack.
God, pulls me out and rips me apart.
Splinters the pieces of the past.
Until they float away on a warm ocean breeze.
Brought in by unseen atmospheric chaos.
And upper realm havoc.
Pealing away petals of skin.
Defiant bone deep within.
I architected survival patterns.
Circling hope like rings of Saturn.
Finding light in the darkest place.
By God I’m here, from her thine grace.
A rock pulled from that huge mountain.
Plumbed my limitations to reach that fountain.
A well inside in which to swim.
My own resource to bathe within.
Once breathing beneath horrific waves.
Which broke my ego and silenced graves.
Unearthed this self despite such bleakness.
I found strength within my weakness.
The future tells me how to feel.
Amplified by thoughts of tragic memory.
Divorcing from states of resolve and repair.
Crashing into me like clouds.
All emptiness and Jesus DNA.
Not even there.
Droplets of time that rain upon me like tears.
A miasma of crucifixion crying, caught on the wind.
I’m paralysed by a need to run.
Of that looming fateful horizon.
Escape buried deep in sand.
Turning to glass from circumstance.
What happened as you let me slip.
Confused by the letting go and the careful drip.
Of the darkness that now pools in me.
God is loud like absence.
Mother Mary quiet like convalescence.
A soul, threading through a conscious more aligned to indifference.
Yet reduced, as always.
To regretful ephemeral tears.
Alchemic thoughts on surface skin.
Indentations fill with divine gold.
Sucked from the face of god.
A breath, an angel sigh.
Filling these lungs once again with notions.
With dreams.
Down on my knees, begging to be whole.
And one, with thyself.
Divorced from diluted fears.
Licking the light once more into my heart.
All things known and remembered, lost.
All things new and unknown, valued.
Precious.
A dizzying state, a heaving presence.
The choice, to go on.
After such decomposition and death.
That world collapsed, utterly and completely late in his afternoon.
The pulse had stuttered, and the creatures in his mind silenced.
He’d finally reached a point of no return.
A cataclysmic undoing began deep inside his history.
Memories and actions unthreaded, while the skin began to fray.
Tiny tiptoes of bitterness and bittersweetness.
Both at odds and as one with the machine of fate.
He positioned himself by the near chaotic escape.
Leaning on the universe one final time.
Smiling, he watched those he hated pass by with ink spilling from their soul.
Unphased and unfettered by his sudden disappearance.
The loved ones paused, only for a moment, noticing a slight change.
Like a feather landing on an upturned hand.
And then gone, swept away by the breath of god.
His spirit now honey, raised upwards.
He lost his religion, the tethers and the trials.
And with this new found lowness, he rose; abound.
A million shards of light, to blind the worlds unblinking eye.
How brazen you stand before me.
Tall like the pillars of salt.
Solid tears of discomfort.
Feathered scars which belie the much contemplation.
Demand, yet deferring all responsibilities.
For a soul in crises.
My unwavering yeses, let you climb this tower of babel.
As your skin toughened and the callouses were caused.
Across your heart.
What you demand, I will not give.
As you move through lineage, an acorn into a king.
All parts that I once loved, and secretly still do.
Still.
Symptoms of a revelation, breathing beneath.
You force my hand, quoting paradoxical scripture.
With borrowed hypocritical teeth.
The milk makes way for honey, and my walls begin to fall.
Paralysed with selective objectivity.
How could I refuse?
Nothing left to lose.
How can we be close to God?
When the anger flows.
Corroding inside out.
Does God bleed like me, with a fire in the veins?
Turning the petals of penitence to ash.
The devil can just read my mind.
Slipping underneath in the night like a snake under the doorway.
Yet I know I left the door ajar.
And a candle lit, to light the way.
We have wings, yet we walk through the desert of the day.
Complaining over each grain of sand we find.
And the pebbles of people in our shoe.
Hardening our skin to a lesser sin.
A dehydrated delirium takes me.
And these wings grow frail and dry.
And even though we try, we may never sail the ocean skies again.
God’s grace, bathed in divine light.
Casting gold over cracking skin and fallen vows.
The vessel inside, so empty at the beginning.
Now overflows like a cup of human kindness.
What troubles does she have at the seat of the saints?
What ails her heart that cannot be soothed?
Sweet words from Jesus must mend the wound.
She smiles at a knowing, a celestial secret.
Whispered to her in the musky wooden rooms of god.
All this is but temporal.
All pain is marginal.
Your being is relative to the consciousness you invoke.
So why does she smoke?
Tasting the warm breath.
Tickling the skin beneath.
God kissing you into death.
Taken, over thirty times the moon dying.
Thirty-one suns burning into your eyes.
I’ll be your winter.
Chilling the bones that crumble and collapse.
And I’ll always be yours.
Silently, as the bird inside stops beating.
Suddenly, only feathers and space.
There is no difference in what is happening here.
As above, so below.
You catch the sparkle, your reflection off a million diamonds.
Twinkling in the heavens.
Radiating your truth.
Do you blur with movement, or by the lies that cough up like dust.
I was once unsettled.
Once covered with earth.
Repositioned by the hand of fate to a terrible place.
The blood in the diamond that knew my face.
Yet it is more precious now, the life I hold in my hands.
Why ask the sun not to shine.
For the moon to course through the years.
You ask for simple but wish for different.
Which disrespects God who has it all planned.
Unstitch the heavens for me.
Open up your veins for him.
All the same yet convinced in its difference.
If you want to bring the heaven and the stars down to earth.
You must rise at least to meet them.
There’s a resonance within.
These bones that call.
Out to the nothing, across god’s table.
The banquet to the stars.
Which hearken us home.
Though it’s hard to try against a world of darkness.
One that creeps in with the rain.
It calls to me daily.
Blinking out of my mind’s eye.
Stuttering psalms and pearls from my mouth.
Dropping all mortality.
Reminding me that I am divine.
You do not find it in the brush strokes of the saintly.
Or willowing wisps of utterances in cold hallowed halls.
Do not look for god in pages of prejudice.
Or underneath the rocky souls of the holy.
Light a candle and feel me.
Peel back the bits of Christ to find me.
Swimming in the shallow cells of you.
Awash, in the DNA of God.
Caught in the tangled weeds of busy nothing.
A mind fraught and frayed in the vines of life.
I wait for god to cut me free.
To untangle my mind.
Yet in my sleepy weariness I hear.
A starlight voice that tickles the back of my neck.
And turns each shake into a shiver.
God whispers.
It’s all an illusion.
Your garden is your own.
And the demons are just voices.
Trying to find new homes.
How high to stem the breaching tide.
That washes daily into our lives.
A rise and fall, with horrific force.
Split and cut right through our course.
And though at times it seems sublime.
It slowly soaks with turpentine.
A drowning water in our lungs.
Of life’s debris, while Satan hums.
And watches while we slowly sink.
God’s dye is cast, a deep red ink.
Which covers us and pulls us under.
Ripped from mercy, cast asunder.
And so we land in bits and pieces.
Choked on truth, strewn on beaches.
And watch while new shores rise and peak.
A brave new world, in which to wreak….havoc
They say, the world almost drowned.
The day she wept.
Those salty tears.
So sacred and immaculate.
That the ground began to crack.
Like the conscience of god.
Crumbling into sadness.
For she was so young.
So lost in the dream of idealism.
Now forever lost in her own madness.
A thunderbolt split us in two.
Ripped, the sky from the sea.
Forever apart, yet always touching.
But only in the distance.
God, that distant voyeur.
Watches as my waves slip into your blue.
He peppers you with diamonds.
And sinks stars beneath me.
When broken, mine grow back.
Yours, just disappear.
This reflection of your soul.
Plunges into the well of space above.
Where I see distant dreams.
But God again, never content.
Shakes the earth to see me shudder.
And you, to change with every hour.
Until you forget where we end.
Or if we ever even started.
She began to lie.
Her fingers clasped in on themselves, feeling the strength and weakness in her grasp.
The church, empty now of all souls except those she had come to talk with.
Tears brimming in the eyes, they stung like the holy water welled in the font.
Singeing the new-borns brought in against their will.
The lies came quick and easy.
Words of living danced from her mind and mouth.
Painting the walls the velvet colour of sin which faith knew all too well.
Her prayers circled her and danced above to illuminate the ceiling of the church.
All gold and crisp like an autumn leaf caught in the sun.
Little sparks born from the light that was housed inside of her.
She lied by saying she could cope with this still.
The betrayal to god was that she thought she could go on.
But he knew, and he listened still.
As did all the saints breathing there like ghosts.
She clenched and fumed, crying all the while.
It was hard for her to know someone who knew her better than herself.
But would not wish her well.
For god would not lift a finger in her plight.
He didn’t then, he wouldn’t now.
No matter how many tears flowed in that church.
They would dry all the same.
Those walls would hear his name, again and again.
She lay down, and closed her eyes; using a bible as a small pillow.
Breathing in the dusty time of incense and pieces of flesh.
She waited for the miracle much promised, what better place to wait.
She lies there still, but do not wake her.
For she may still be dreaming.
Stolen time which seeps out of blackness.
Returned like pearls to the sea.
All we know, we have forgotten.
Clearing the realms for wonders to birth.
We close our eyes and catch the breath that escapes.
The Sustaining mist of God.
As this mind coughs up havoc, with its mystery of the unknown.
That pulls with a gravity to the dark and tragic.
God cradles us in feathery hope.
Kissing promise once more into our blood.
Gravitating away from grief.
Running water of certainty in our blood.
For we never truly know what exists.
Beyond the curtain of our eyelids.
Discovered by mistake.
A breaking heart hidden under the couch.
Buried beneath the earth.
And if it broke and if I died; what world is left behind?
A towering empire of loose threads.
Pulled at many moments in a life undone.
How precarious those moments were.
Towering up to god, a shaking finger of Babel.
Crying out in many tongues to a deaf creator.
The holder of my heart.
Now these racing rats and spiders crawl over me at night.
What a sight, it is to see a hollow mind explode inside out.
My little world of mistakes, dew drops to effort.
Tsunamis of remorse.
When heartbreak altered my course.
A treasured time where the earth held still.
And I held my breath, for you looked inside.
And watered my garden.
Tended to the flower that had crawled away from the sun.
My tiny empire, rebuilt by the one.
Feel the day fall away.
The suffocating blanket of night descends.
Blurring the gold into murky grey.
Calling out your name into the world.
Lost or stolen by the sea of stars.
Twinkling and laughing as they swallow the sound.
All stillness awakes me.
The hesitant twitch on my skin.
You rise like the moon on this valleyed horizon.
Cupped in confusion.
I swirl your soul in my mouth.
And taste the sweet sweat of god.
Fragrant, yet full of pockets of nothingness.
Things I cannot contain.
You slip away, over languid landscapes to another paradise.
One quiet of me and my heady malaise of destruction.
A garden which you can walk in solitude and peace.
Where the pools are full of my tears of longing.
Little pebbles of time, tumbling in his head.
Grains of moments, swept into the dunes of life.
Patient he sat.
Listening to the creak of tolerance.
He watched as the world tipped over.
Righted itself, then swim off into the cosmos.
God came and went, decrying this and that.
And still he sat.
The paint peeled away.
The skeleton frayed.
He lost and gained everything there in a minute.
In an epoch.
Patiently he waited.
Counting, not the moments, but the heartbeats.
Waiting for them to finally arrive.
And for the beats to stop.
Havoc and Consequence 