Wednesday, January 24, 2007

Liquid (Villanelle)

She longs to drown in liquid thrill;
To spin within colourless thread
With sharp cold taste, my fond lungs fill.

Our hearts entwined would oft distill
Unchanging ever flowing dread;
With sharp cold taste, my fond lungs fill.

I watch upon a foreign hill
My feet on frozen stones, are shred;
She longs to drown in liquid thrill.

Her dragonfly deep colours spill
Pale rainbows on the surface spread;
With sharp cold taste, my fond lungs fill.

Floating flowers cast in the chill
In words' remembrance, letters shed;
She longs to drown in liquid thrill.

No letters linger, water’s still,
Softly etched on heartbeats fled,
She longs to drown in liquid thrill;
With sharp cold taste, my fond lungs fill.

The Song of Wandering Aengus
-W.B. Yeats

I went out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;
And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.

When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire aflame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And some one called me by my names;
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.

Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.

Thursday, January 18, 2007


Beyond memory’s shore
the waist-high dreams
wander inside of
my skin

scented strands slip
into my understanding
as cooling waves of
bottle-blue sky
my desires

whispering mists
cocooning me from
rainbow coloured tears

and when I look down
the prism
has broken
and lays piercing

Little Poems

cold sleep

no stars
weep abando
as our discarded die
disappeared in foul rooms, cold tears
dried wine.


fear strolls
on soft bear’s paws
hushed growling, calmly tastes
decides – and stretching sharpest claws
carves me.

cut me
I hate
the sky’s fading
touch – etched within my heart
take the words from me – cut them all


charcoal crumbles
pale colourless am I
as grimy guilt on paper pressed
my blood


I cannot be seen
squeezed in the palm of your hand
I have disappeared


yesterday I tried –
tried to go – someone Shouted
“Hey you!” then – s h o o k – me

“don’t you – Don’t You Dare Leave Me”
She shook me –
Hard ---

Sunday, January 14, 2007

The Elephant in our Garden (excerpt)
by Peter Dunne

When I first saw the elephant hanging from the the tree,
I must confess that it startled me.
"What are you doing there and how long will you stay?"
I enquired of the elephant to hear what he'd say.
"I'm an arboreal pachyderm, small and compact,
And I've chosen this tree to make up for its lack
Of an elephant."

Thursday, January 11, 2007


queen anne's lace 2
Originally uploaded by Callooh.
I make myself
an island;
grow daffodils
in the garden,
feed birds thistles,
will butterflies
wrap me in
their gossamer wings?

Wednesday, January 10, 2007


can you

kiss the daisied

moon ~ flirty firefly

fill your floating love ~ bring your glow

to me?


I arise
is a sign,
a gift.
I disrobe my ego,
my effort, and cast them
damp, in the sand.
without ego
the eggshell skin
encasing my heart;
the one so softly tread upon,
cracks open.
my heart,
comprehends, and
at once
is immersed
only, in the exquisite.
simplicity, traced by
an aura of moonlight,
dry brushed
transparent by night’s clouds.