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These are poetry drafts. I consider all my poetry in a constant state of drafting, some with revision ongoing, others merely gathering dust. Some have been published but will still be considered drafts.

N.B. When these posts were imported I noticed some of my reblogs also got pulled in. It should be ovious from the contents that they are reblogs from other writers. I am in the process of removing those posts.

SEA OF SOULS

Bacchus, oh Bacchus
honey dripping slowly down
mixing with the blood of young
the hips so slender, waving
enticing, inviting me in
rave
rave
rave
I feel no fear my dear
your almighty power
releases me
the voices I hear
are dead in my ear
the sea of souls
embraces me

ONLY THE SILENT CALL IS HEARD

You bathed in my energy,
cleansing you broken heart,
swimming in the river of life,
done but not apart.

So pretty in pink,
and fully covered,
you reached out far,
to the wicked stars.

Fearless on stormy seas,
stormy on quiet nights,
we raced head to head,
aimlessly.

Paris in the spring,
no one would win,
the game of life,
no wishes, all demands.

In the lap of the gods,
we get what we deserve,
in the lap of the gods,
only the silent call is heard.

YOU NEED NO WORDS

Sometimes
you run out of words
silence takes over
silent
until your breath
and heartbeat
becomes the voice
whispering
you need no words
you need no words
you need no words
and then
and only then
you are at peace

TURNING PAGES

I used to travel the world, sitting in my grandfather’s lap. He had an old Texaco map, and I an imaginary friend.

The world was very flat back then, his fingers cold, so stiff so hard. Turning pages, going off somewhere new, with Amelia by my side.

The travelling did eventually stop, old age and poor health got the better of him. I lost my way the day that he passed. Will she ever come back to finish her task? To guide the lost boy back on his path.

THE SOUND OF LITTLE FEET

Go gently with me as
my bones are brittle and
my heart is cracking more
by every passing day with
the sound of little feet
fading further and further
into the shadows of that
we perceive as real and
closer and closer to the edge
of that which is only dream.

LOST

The back roads of life
Rarely scenic
Without street lights
To guide you
Home

COMING OF AGE

In fire flaming skywards
we were soldiers standing proud
partners in crime unimaginable
in life and death we are
rigor and mortis
monks treading path of
righteousness
Pax Vobiscum as
Daniel’s dreaming
the virgin is coming
of age

KEEP ME IN THE DARK

Please don’t tell me why,
keep me in the dark,
I’ve done so many foolish
things, outlawed once – afar

Please don’t tell me when,
keep me in the dark,
timing never mattered much
as long as we were apart

Please don’t tell me how,
keep me in the dark,
but do defuse the mains
and switch on the gas supply

Please don’t tell me what,
keep me in the dark,
lock the place down,
and hide those rusty keys,
then light the last of your
cigarettes to finally
set me free

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