Until Dark
What I am going to tell you here
will take me until dark
and the white yawn of a moon grown weary
will be upon your cheek
only
when I have spoken enough galaxies
to contain it.
You will not sleep
until blackness has overfilled the western trees
and spilt upon the blue hems of night
bleeding upwards to God,
who is also listening.
Then when I have finished
we will both exhale
and our sleep-breaths will become tides
seeking out the hollow places and secret caves
to fill and recede,
fill and recede
lapping hard against the stony wall of morning.
[first snow will come to the hollow places]
first snow will come to the hollow places
always to the hollow places
or the tips of the eyelash
the softer sides of a cheek
delightful, flirtatious
and white
though now less white than once
and her end will be the same
year after year
old lady winter cold on fence posts
reduced to salt stains
finding no warm breath left
on lips turned already blue.
the kingdom
you are the kingdom
come down here
leaving apple juice and animal crackers
in you wake
the new manna
you are the good measure
warm, soft and
running over in my lap
you ask
for a story
though all the stories of the world
tell themselves over and over
in your eyes
too young to have their ownI carry you to bed
but you hardly know
little one
how it is you who carries me through the night
with your head on my shoulder
and your tiny fingers
which could hold galaxies and all the rivers and oceans of heavencontent to hold my own.
How we can be silent
You find a new way to say it, then
cause it's always been the same to me
and all the other ordinary stars
lips, cheeks and
tongues
have always sucked the blood
back through
ancient veins and clotted earths
it's not love,
that changed
And you can take a number, too
behind all the other
unpoisoned Juliets.
The poets weren't first
and neither are you,
doll-face
to try and wrap up heaven like a wedding
then make all the trees
lie down,
with
you
with
him
as if it's yours alone
the kiss
the goddess food,
the dark green surrender
how we can be silent
[lightening is creation]
lightening is
creation
one rib at a time
same break
straight
down the centre jagged not
clean
same sky
post-electric
green with the
dead weight of watching
things catch fire
same thunder
you're talking to yourself again
trees applaud but aren't
good company and can't even
bless or
curse you for the
rain or
tremble in the aftermath
in the broken flowers of your rage
lightening is
creation
one rib at a time and
it always hits the lowest place
so duck.
[breathe on me] thoughts on May evenings
breathe on me
so I can
smell all of your
lilac-coloured inhalations
and lay me down
gentle
in lonely green
feilds that could
just as easily be your arms
set me to tree-music
and dance your
fireflys and cocky tulips
to all my songs
for once
in the white shadow of a
single-minded moon
exhale
perfect blue evenings
on the back of my neck
in that way you
have
of pretending your
forever
is any
more
than just
tonight
break and
wash me
over
with
cherry wine and
sunburned knees
yester-
days and
_____days and
__days
ocean flows to river
here
no need to hold your breath so,
lets justgo
you make me
feel
like
swimming
in
the
dark
