A cry A moan Roaring like the distant sea But with a ghostly whine The cold wind Shrieking through The November empty tree Some tatters of leaves still left The bones of the dead Rattling at the crunch of their cast off brothers Being smashed beneath my feet The early season ice pellets Bite into my face The sting reminding me That I am alive Despite all of the evidence The wind Rips through my tattered heart Calling your name But gets echoes Of the November empty trees In return
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Unfortunately I couldn’t find any pictures to match the mood ;) I guess I take happy pictures. (I spent some time trying to make that picture more moody…)
You said something That reminded me Of a romance Now forgotten So quite bold I went off Writing to echoes Of my pounding heart Repeating sweet memories Verses about shadows Words of an ache long quenched But sometimes You say something That reminds me Simply Of you And then I ask myself What should I write?
Selina could feel the throb of the Ocean pulsing through her long before she could actually make out the roar of the waves. The beat of the earth’s salty heart made a rhythm with her own, a dance she alone shared with the mighty Sea.
But as she followed her thin shadow across the silvery landscape she realized that another heard his call. For climbing up behind her, as she neared the westward ledge over the water, was her soul-sister, Moon. She had a special relationship with Moon. Sometimes, when no one was watching, Selina danced a slow, sinewy dance with sister Moon. It was an old dance, a dance that came from her soul, a restless dance of subtle movements far removed from that earthy dance of the pulsating beat of Ocean. For the flow and ebb of sister moon took weeks to complete, from absence to full and back to nothing again, always changing, always restless but always there. The music of the Ocean, also restless, pulsed seconds between waves, hours between tides, creating a much quicker, Earthier, lewder dance. Continue reading →
I may write a symphony That orchestras play With a smile Or I may write a bold pop hit That will never go Out of style I may even write a great jazz standard Everyone will hum that haunting tune And I might just write a sentimental song That lovers will sing As long as in the sky Hangs a lover’s moon I may write all of these Doubtful, but true But there is no melody I could ever write That’s as beautiful as you
When I think of you The great balloon of you Fills up Pushing all else aside Stretching Shoving Inner pressure Too much Almost to the breaking point A chain reaction held in check And it’s all you Just you Only you Tingling all of my senses On the verge of a cosmic burst I feel when it does burst It will be a multicolour supernova Heat and passion released The world filled with visions of you The universe filled with the heat of the idea of you But it stays in The universe pre-Big Bang Everything in the small space of my brain Under pressure When I think of you All else is gone When I think of you Just you You When I think of you
When I feel the hurt of purple bruises You color me a royal purple comfort When I feel a deep blue funk You color me with the freedom of a deep blue sky When I see the green of jealousy and rot You color me the spring green of life and hope When I am afraid and yellow You color me the yellow of the warm, bold sun When I feel the last dying ember orange about to be extiguished You color me an optimsitic orange of a beautiful sunrise And when I see red in anger and hate You color me red in compassion and love No matter if my mood is black and white or just plain grey You color me in shades of life
The mirror is dull grey Nothing, blank empty But a throw of the switch And the world is reflected there
The mirror sees what I want to see Places and times Things and people But most of all, it sees you
But this dull grey mirror Full of words and images Is just a reflection Is just a mirage Just a tiny, flat rectangular slice Of the large, spherical world A bit of unreality Glowing on my deskContinue reading →