he crumpled mad co-ordinates,
(imprinted DNA’s corrupt,
flaws everything)

no allowance made for zero’s
disembodied influence

on form
yet wyrd

cat smelled of rain, washed his
paws of the crash about to
never happen

this time
yet

sidebar wouldn’t take alternative title : mary’s earth

talking to the wind started it:
the fall and risk of rib on
mountains bleeding holy hell
while numbers screamed
irrational but unavoidable delay

magpies gather on the sunstone
chatter into sameness
compare smoke ‘n’ mirrors’
masquerade, perfectly united

lips moistened with fine rain kiss
nothing, but the fearless wild
spins and whirls two hundred birds
one rush of thought
in giant, wheeling freeflow;

i’m inside the storm, a swallow
of unfinished rhythm
spitting feathers at an empty page

re-vision 3 – with huuuge thanks to mojave/Bernard Henrie …

i’m inside the storm
a swallow

spitting feathers at an empty page
ready to tear down the sky
chase clouds;

lips moistened with fine rain.
nothing, but the fearless wild
spins and whirls two hundred birds
one rush of thought
in giant, wheeling freeflow;

i want to kiss you. now.

mist swam between dark trees
a silver shawl unraveling

to float, turn seamless moments
into thought, unwind like steam

in wheel arches, round in silent
ground we go; are you here

to see hawk wings
heave across this windscreen

a rainbow perched impossibly
above us?

in full glide, she saw my gaze, accepted it;
her perfect stillness and surrender to
the drift of slipstream’s tongue mirrored
rapture just before the climax

your breath such sweet caress, love

sunlight curled around my arm, smoothflow
wing touch brought me into perfect
stillness and a raven’s eye; i saw her gaze,
accepted it, shared rapture just before …

this morning’s heartraw, an exquisite echo of desire;
birds and leaves tumble in the wind,
gusting, whirling, mad dreams all but breaking
in the heave, the violence of air;

part of me is jousting with the clouds,
the rest a swallow of unfinished rhythm
choked on winter’s pressing need
to turn the savage wheel : my hands are tied to it;

precious little mercy to be gained from what-ifs
silent gulls crusade in freeflow
they know how to ask for more than sky;
self destruction’s teasing lips moistened with fine rain

blankets round their limbs to hasten
drowning soaked up
rolling clouds’ reflective mood,
gathered weight from
the curl of deepest bloodflow,

hovered on the sprawl of night
cold loss drifting
towards muddy gaze, water’s
flight through airspun lungs;
hush, though the radar’s deaf down here

in the claws of silence
silver breath
holds
still
waits for a sign
that passage has been granted
that the storm will not kill
though leaves endure
quick bite and split of pure indifference

mouse voiced … sort of …

her emails stopped            suddenly
prosaic mystery gives everything
away                      before lunch

i was insulted by the warning bells
but that was nothing to
my loss of appetite in the noise
                                of hers

there have been some changes here and i seem to have lost links to gorgeous others and to individual poems by name …. not sure if i can reinstate these though i think they’re all still in here …. help??

love to you all
S