Times dungeons have never healed
The relationship between
known and unknown

Some bask in the glory of the sun
Some of their own
We all are but passersby
To all unknown
Yet time shears our lives
To the very bones,
We pass out all unknown,
Who the master
Who the slave
Who the follower
Who the knave

Except the naïve,
They are the worst victims of all.

I've looked for the part that's missing
and damned if I can see
where it might have gotten off to
Where it might be wandering free

It's like, that it just needed space
Some time to be alone
A little time for reflection
The waters marred by stones

I cannot find the peace
that once I took for granted
My outlook seems to shift
from level, to something canted

I've been searching all around,
no signs do I find
of the part that has gone missing
Has it been left behind?

1.

without seat belts to hold you
on the roller-coaster ride
memories
neither here nor there
flare divisions like acrobats
diving into space

with more elegance than thought possible
September's swan lifts her long neck
and wings away

where is Heisenberg's principle when
you need it the most?

2.

there's a lotus growing in my cosmic soup,
my feet mud roots tying rocks to clouds
the equation of dark matter
my singular paradox.

3.

Softly, languid eyes worship you.
Each breath taken is in synchronicity,
two halves of the same reality

We traverse this hostile world,
rapped in the safety of our devotion.
The out side cannot get in.

The essence of my existence
the crux of it all.
Your are woven into every fibre.

I want to take you to the centre of the thousand little statues
and make love above their watching eyes.
I want to take you round the gallery,
show me your feelings,
and I'll show you mine.
I want to take you to my dingy room
and make love on the floor,
under the naked globe.
I want to take you.
I want to ask you your name.
I want to take you to my friends
and see you shy or sparkling.
I want you to take me to your friends
and see you proud or shamed.

Acutely tuned sense
At the mere mention of a name
Merciless winds
Of emotional change

Only serve to fan the flames
Of a fervent desire to be

All that I want
All that I need
All that I am

Can become muddled
By touching the hand
Of one so wild and wired

The determinant agent
Of imaginations fire
Blazing a luminous trail to the heart

As rogue emotions
Pulse and surge
Through my conscience mind

Passion is the tides
Surge, ebb and flow
The roar of an approaching storm
Fires of hell burning
Bright

A lion’s hunger
When on the prowl
To the ocean’s depth
It is felt

Lust never fulfilled

Love is a comfort zone
An unconditional giving
Where no boundary lines are drawn
A knowing without a whisper
A reading of the signs

Love always fulfilled

Passion without love
Is empty
Love lacking passion
Leaves a void

Why can they not co exist
In one

Gift
(dedicated to Shirley Harrison on her wedding)

diving into liquid velvet
surrounded by translucent light
a feeling of slowly falling
into the darkened sky of night

the million cares of the day
so worrisome in their plight
fall away with the setting sun
taking wing with angel's flight

I hear your voice so clear
in the cunning darkness falling
It comes to me in ecstasy
I hear your deep voice calling

Abrupt intake of idolatry
as softly, languid eyes imbibe
each facet.

You invade reality
stunning my logic,
hooking yourself into my resistance.

The essence of my existence
the crux of it all.
You are woven into every fibre

Impetuous, perilous, sensation
as I expose the delicate under belly,
Naked, open to you.

We are we; perfectly…

What is this fog that calms our love, silent mist,
you and I were above this we thought.
My mind runs back through days of want and angry words,
oh how wonderfully passionate we fought.

Your intense angry eyes inflamed my raging rhetoric,
mouthing fiery daggers to a heart so loved.
Mirrored was my suicide, a creation of self conceit,
thrown in with a hand perfectly gloved.