My constant companion, they sky is my most potent muse.
Apathy d i f f u s e d above stark limbs
searching for answers just out of sight
an earthly Tantalus grasping futilely
for the stars above fogged glass
that Icarus s h a t t e r e d
and the shards clipped his wings
and life
leaving a jagged sliver of heaven to taunt us
daring us to soar
to suffer his fate
yet
hope remains of reaching Olympus
of reaching the world beyond
waiting for the flame of desire
to m e l t wax enough for wings
and take flight from this imprisioning isle
to swim on the silver glow of the moon
through the sea deviod of colour
to the land where dreams are born
*
A bobbing rose
in grey waters
provides a solitary oasis
in the brackish world
*
Clumps of clouds lay spouted on the sky
like heather on the rolling moors
I hike this vast expansiveness
climbing over craggy mountain peaks
and walking through the swamping storm fronts
I ask a group of geese for direction
They're headed north, and I east
so we part with the sun to our backs,
hoping for daylight enough for our journeys but also for one more night to spend among the stars
The dark here is bitter cold
without the sun to tempter the winds
But the moon is a motherly figure
she will let no children freeze.
The stars provide a witty entertainment
and there is no better company.
So I'll walk a little slower
and linger one more dusk and dawn
for my affairs on earth are not so pressing and the air up here is so very fine.
*
Falling wearily through pink skies
the sun settles into the bay
extinguishing itself
to infuse the light to the world beneath the waves.
*
I
The morning sky refracts the colour of my broken lenses
shards of rose-hued glass strewn with dew
shattered by the prophet of destruction
Whose omen are inscribed in newsprint
a fragile body for such a power
force enough to shatter realities and unsettle minds
II
Under the icy sky of day
the sun burns hatred into men
and brings wind to erode compassion
Now people kill and are killed
Disease and grief torments bodies and souls
No number of good intentions can defeat
the bigotry by ignorance of the masses
As day reigns, daemons dance in the hearts of man
III
The sky of dusk tallies the fallen
and hangs the blood score above us
Men are weary and rage ebbs to exhaustion
IV
Night brings an unconscious truce
as men unwillingly set aside their hatred
to give way to an impatient oblivion
wishing for a rapid deliverance of day
Our celestial spectators smile sad amusement at the debris
wondering the reason behind the wanton destruction
when all else they know is orderly
V
As the sky lightens, only the morning star reminds
her curiosity insatiable
The sun wakens with a rosy luminescence
And for the moment before the first man rises
My lenses are once again unbroken.
*
pale silence
white shadows falling
offer a soft glow
A dreamscape mirrored in ice
peace in monochrome
*
The sky fades like mood lightning
as dark fingers grasp for the horizon
descending on the skyline of a seaside town
The rain bursts as the sky flashes white
blinking reality out of existence
The world again - now out of focus
as each heavy droplet shatters itself against the aging dock
The city is gone, consumed by the storm
and the whole world ripples under the wind
The sky flashes again
and the watery streaks shimmer like diamonds.
Lightning shatters the city's safety
jagged bolts descend in pairs
intertwined until they flickered in death
One bolt, thick and purple
stabs at the high-rise
before shattering
the shards diffusing into a sheet of white
The lightning strobe-lights the sky
as the thunder cackles in deep-throated glee
as Jove's celestial ecstasy continues unchecked
As suddenly as they were shoved into the sky
the dark clouds are tugged to a reluctant exit
letting sodden blue reality seep back into the sky
*
The spotlamps fade
Retiring from their nightly gossip
Purple gowned silhouettes laze onto the stage
To be brushed with a border of rose light
Their director ushers them into position
Pulling and twisting as the whim takes him
The stage is never the same for two performances
The stage lightens when a globe rises from the backdrop
Fireflies darting in red tinted glass
The glass breaks
Its shards scattering
The red brings blue to the colourless canvas
The fireflies dance
The silhoutted forms now shed their purple nightgowns
And dress in their suits of white
When all is done and the stage is set
The fireflies amass in their globe again
Now trapped in yellow glass
And the play begins
*
Static falls in the air
from white above
to black below
keeping us from seeing the world
as it truly is
*
Tattered white fleece
trimmed in gold
reveals a blue lining
faded by years
of sun and rain
but retaining a majesty
from the hand of the first seamstress
whose work, even after eons of wear
remains unparalleled
*
Walking on my sunbeam
up towards a cholorine sky,
I no longer need a waking dream
to lift my head and fly.
Above me things are free
and hold nothing to weight me down.
There is no air beneath me,
I'll never again need ground.
I will live up here
though no other creature dares.
Up where the freshness can sear
and dissolve away earthy cares.
my skin glows hope-tinged
as I shout to another mind.
On you my greater joy is hinged:
will you to me your way find?
*
wispy pilgrims
lazing towards a rosy Mecca
their slow path seems endless
with only their faith to guide them
an unquestioning transcendence of spirit
revealing a view of heaven
enough to convert any non-believer
*
Yellow skies
are not angry, but sad
and when seen through glass eyes
reflect a world gone mad
* * *