Brushstrokes In My Brain


O these times
These lonely, lonely times
Of a single tear falling
From a broken, crooked eye
For the meadows sunk in shadow
And shadows that each day die
On the tar road turning homewards
To pink hearts falling from the sky
O these people quietly standing
Waiting that single boat of hay
Here are lovers with their children
And servants with silver tray
All waiting to be carried
Somewhere in the ocean
Where faces are not of plastics
And even fishes have emotion
O these homes are now softly falling
Like snow on winter’s eve
Left faded to fill a dry canvas
With damp colors smelling new
And there is no one to wake the silence
And no one to hold the door
Only brushstrokes that breath to say
We are here for you are not anymore

The Soft World Shenanigans

Dry roads humping shredded towns
Ghostlicked with cactus eyes quietly watching
Deeper dreams
For answers within answers
For silence within screams
I see, I see
Footsteps upon gravel
And red lips on ice
Dissolve
In purple chimney smoke,
Behind the farts of dust- rimmed truck,
Where the grey haired goats grazing in saltpits wonder
Why the fairies don’t give a fuck
Clippety clop, clippety clop
Horse hooves on silent sand
Burnt toast, stale butter, wooden knife in my hand
I see, I see
Tears and bright ties
Choking velvet throats
Those colouring the white lies
Like spit on anchored boats
Bell jars in cotton
Woodpecker in denim
Breathing tinfoil fantasies
Of midnight mind raining, whispers upon paper:
‘Wheatfields underwater
Ether in eclair
Cornflakes made of daylight
And tulips in dark hair’
I see, I see
Last thoughts of dying beasts
Merge with me
So that I roar and I bleat
Being eaten as I eat
My own war-torn monkhood
My altarboy retreat
So I see, So I see
Dry roads humping shredded towns
Ghostlicked with cactus eyes quietly watching
Deeper dreams
For answers within answers
For silence within screams

The Night

The Night smiled and the world froze into a mirror:
An eye without eyelids
A face without feature
But timeless in its taste
Like truth without teacher,
With flowers on her forehead
And sweat upon her thigh
The sea painted on her toenail
And the sun a firefly
Dancing just dancing
On her gold lips as lullaby

And oft she would curl up to sleep
Unwanting to know the names
Of those who suckled her milk
Only to sell it for pixie dust
And white rum to last a lifetime of
Blood on her hands
Flames in her hair
Dreams stitched in her dresses
Leaving her perpetually bare

Pendulum minds
Prone to tongue tennis and cold showers
Stare out the window
At the hips of dark roads
Fading under street lamps
Like sunset on a shore
Shriveled drops of moonlight on their face
And she watching the cold blue sky
And those blind stars; invisible,
Laughing in the background
Like extras from silent films
Happy to beheld
The recurring eternity
Of everyday life…

The Sailor

There was dust upon his eyebrows
And stars under his eye
Each for one color of the rainbow
Taped to the woolen sky
I was swimming on a rose bridge
And saw him drink the sea
He was a dolphin from the desert
Dressed as a honeybee

So I fell for him forever
Like lovers on rainy night
And my heart was Christmas carol
Raw as Eve’s apple bite
Thus we drowned in whispering voices
Pouring out our crystal skin
There were wings upon our shoulders
And a shared velvet fin

But the man he was a sailor
With a thirst for sea green ocean
All I had was sky blue eyes
And a sense of moonlight motion
So I kissed his salt shaped lips
And set his anchor free
And I watched him drift asleep
On a heavy wooden sea
Now I am swimming on a rose bridge
Alone on rainy night
And I have apples around my ankles
But no heart to leave a bite

Kohl

There is shadow under her eyes
Eclipses she called them
From the tears left behind
Of the pain that came far too late
To flow and feel with the pulse of time

I look at her bare back
With the bedsheet pattern
Still alive on her skin
The crests of her shoulders
Peeking like crescent moons
From under the sea of argent hair

So I turn away
To another day
A still life, blur, Monet.
Years ago to this Tinseltown:
People leaping out of their skins
Skeletons dancing in glass cases
The enamel skulls selling
A hollow reed laugh
And a touch at the base of your spine
As a keepsake

She was standing
Under the irreparable light
Doused in city flames
And dressed in the dark left behind by dirty minds,
Counting cars that passed
Without halting for her

My feet were silent
My thoughts far too loud
As I hovered round her shadow
Like a leftover cloud
With neither thunder nor rain
In the threads of my vein
But the promise of a shade
And the warmth of a bed

It’s been years since that night
And every night since then
Whence I swallowed her sorrow
And she pardoned my pain
And together we have slept
Counting each other’s scar
Some dealt amongst us
Others unremembered for far
And yet I can hear her
Counting cars passing by
And there are eclipses under her eyes
From all the kohl she forgot to dry…

Goddess

And I buried the sky
Deep in my womb
And there were stars in my eyes
The moon south of my waist
And the sun spilled forth white
From the cusp of my chest
So my children could glow
So my children could dream
And not be sheeps led on sermon
Taught to bleat and not to scream
At the world for not being fair
And keep a woman unaware
Of her hips and her hair
Drawn only if in pair
And shown smiling everywhere
To please and to care
And never do truly dare
Be a child of the flower
Wild under bower
With roots of our own
Chosen by us to be sown
In our graveyards and glade
For a fragrance that would never fade
From the words once unsaid
Now shared unafraid
In all homes and every hearth
Before being born and after birth
A song, O this song
To be remembered for long
We were there, we are here
No longer in fear:
Of the Bible and it’s fable
Seven sins under the table
Forced to pay for it all
Every Adam and his fall,
Without why, when and how
We are one and we are now
Equal in this fight
Of Us and Our Way
Once Witches of the Night
Now the Goddess of the Day

Dewdrops in the Ocean

I close my eyes
And the dewdrops upon my palate
Rise, like an ocean left unattended
On hot stove
Left to seethe and boil
Fold and uncoil;
Echoing towards an inconsequential eternity
Where nothing rhymes
Beneath the repeating waves
Washing themself at the shore
At the feet of a silent, silent kingdom
Rooted in reminiscence
Of a homemade horizon promised
Upon an unpromised path
There the shriveled hearts sprout as mushroom
In an endless cortege
Moving in stillness
Like taste upon the tip of tongue
And snail upon the lips of spine
An ode to the essential
Both the dirt and the divine