Clouded Over

Clouded over, moonless, this ravaged sky
While below, we long for lucidity
This is our single, unquestionably
Exquisite fixation, mired in mildness
Childless. Our judgement is pure
We neither nurture nor cure
Those dark skies above, they tremble
Our dull convoy slices through ferocity
Dim as fury, haloed heads tilt upwards
The sea expand inside us, oceans in which
The carcasses of sailing ships founder
Then sink; violent giants nestling
In the depths of our souls and grey waves
Roll as the day struggles into life.

Tourists

American tourists
In long trench coats
Walking on the river bank
Far from home

He dumped her in the river too
Under ice in winter
Dead as can be
Under bracken in summer
Is she lonely under there?
Or is this the kind of detachment
That she had always longed for?

Accosted By Angels

The darkness writhes before my eyes
Flickering dispatches from another world
angels who worship their mother, the night
Their halos blind me and their radiance,
Makes my own shadow wither and everything
Around me is unreal. The candle
Has burnt down. It has capitulated
Succumbing to the onward march of the night
And, menacingly, the air gathers around me

And that dawn with its slivers of light
That penetrate the thick draperies
Is a long time coming

Azure Imagery

Gold paper stars stuck to the ceiling
He takes her in his arms beneath the lamplight
It is getting late. A distant bell tolls the hour
Sleep separates them and they are washed up
On a beach of dreams, of visions, motionless
Broken, before a sea of glittering imagery
Emerald waters against a backdrop of grey
The sky descends and the tide surges in
Colours are diluted in this world within

And menaced by malevolence, azure images
Unravel under the shadow of nightmare

Songs of Bedtime

No grand happenings, no great dramas
Just the memory of the fair-skinned babysitter'’s
Firm handhold as we,– my siblings and me,
Danced around the mulberry bush
Everything floods back in a kind of rush
We sing the Songs of Bedtime

The past stands stern, stubborn
Inflexible as an absolute monarch
It rules over this land inside my head
I hear the sound of scents and smell the colours
The wild colours of this bright day

That draws to a close with the songs of bedtime
I have never slept so soundly since
Where has that impenetrable black curtain gone
There is nothing to shut out the day
There is nothing to suppress that white, bright light

Almost to intense to exist within
I miss her touch, that rustic firmness
In the afternoon of her effervescence
I bloomed too, I grew, too big for her
Too big for you. And I knew

When we were through. You took
My expectations, my dreams and gave them voices
But that was then when day was day
And night was night but now everything is congealed
And it is my dark future that is concealed

Revolution

Basking in a sense of camaraderie
Of refinement, of delicacy. We walk
Through meadow after meadow
The long grass yields beneath
Our feet and a solitary cow grazes,
Soon to be the red-brown meat
Who will be the star of our dinner table
And those picturesque peasants captivate

Until revolutionary fervour proliferates
And our tenants become a terrifying tribe
Clasping blood-tipped swords
That can slice the head clean off
The aristocracy with a single blow
Resentment overshadows the land
It flourishes as the fog descends
And we are rendered superfluous.

Dispirited, we are helpless
In the face of this venomous advance?
And every day more bodies
Are dragged out of those great houses
Those bitter peasant boys attack our land
As we flee down endless country lanes
In sapphire, satin ballgawns, torn and worn
Trailing through the mud

Blue blood flows
There is no adoration left for us
They have taken the key
They have scrambled the code
A million times more bold
Than they have ever been before
They snatch back the land
And still we do not understand.

Some Dark Hurricane

Some dark hurricane clamouring over the ocean
Whipping up its white-tipped waves
This is the day, yes, this must be the day
When the brittle facade of civility
Is abandoned and the sea turns against us
It is black, malevolent and advancing inland
It reaches the harbour where the battleships float

She, the daughter of the sea, tires of stillness
She feels compelled to walk towards those great waves
Not caring what lies beneath. She feels as though
She is standing on the edge of the world and there
Is nowhere to go but onwards, into the stormy grey
Hue. She raises her eyes, looks upward and encounters
A yellow eye- it is the sun. She is swept away by the deluge

Washed up, she lies, face down in the rock pool
The sea has no need of her anymore
Death was not kind to her. She did not emerge
Unscathed. She did not leave a beautiful corpse
Neighbourhood kids cheer and laugh
The grown-ups have no energy to chastise them
They turn away from what they cannot understand

Uniformed men do their work. swiftly, competently
The villagers follow the upward curve of the mountain path
Asking, 'How did this come to pass?'
For they never heard her cry
They never heard her scream
Eyes meet eyes but have no answers
Only questions, questions, questions.

Cracked Heart

The shard within us
Are concealed weapons
Deadly as scalpels

We are prisoners now
The guards open the doors
And count us in

My cellmate and I
Perform and awkward ballet
Dancing on the cold stone floor

And we wonder
Who cut the thread
That linked us to the world

Daemon Daughter

Daughter dear, do you not fear
The future, the enormity
Of the world, the vastness
Of the universe

Daemon Daughter, haunting me
Will you ever set me free?
For I crave liberty
But you remain tied to me

Anchoring me down
You wear the crown
You are the monarch
Of my life

Your speech is grandiose
And eloquent. You are
So tiny and yet,
You fill a room

And I envy you
I do, I do.