Email Poem

Your IP Address: 216.73.216.228
Your Email Address:
To Email Address:
Subject
Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem

"Midnight to 3.33, Morning Kills"



He said, 
“Go to where the poets go
Love rolls wet and sways
Intensity wraps itself inside out
and somersaults its legs backward
to open a way
Out
It’s kind of burning hot 
like Summer burns 
bare feet on 
powdered shells
there it waits for you, Hell,
sharp stinging and unheard 
unsung on blistering
squeaky clean white sands
bush fires and waltzing in the wind
Red Kangaroo Paws",
There she goes
She passes life 
absent and unaware
singing silently through
blistered lips broken
blue and purple ignored,
then a child’s teeth 
like butterflies 
stolen and pinned 
by a boilermaker;
the child is stolen
by a woman who 
is not a mother -
brave the bruised 
heart of true mother 
brave the bruised 
heart of true child -
the felon held as a hero;
where is God in 
the heart of a stolen life, 
years drained and swallowed up by the 
blood-sucking emotional vampires
and gone by, 
wasted "Truth" ignored,
disparate then 
desperate kisses melt
and meet your brailled
voyeuristic ice creamed waves
like a deer in cross-light has felt, 
fixed in the lens, road kill
Smoked out 
from her burn-off, it
stings your eyes
like clouds thin veiled 
across your mirrors 
unaware of what you see 
have seen or have sawn bloody,
trailing salt in the 
caramel crevices of 
your sticky molasses thick
mind's eye,
held tight throughout 
your nights and days
where your mind and 
lips parched
for love and succour 
draw your lover’s tongue in
speaking slow and wet
in dreams touched 
through idle conversation
towards your raised 
mountains of pale moon glow 
and spun silk skin,
you are wrapped in a 
golden cocoon,
it’s just a cover 
until morning 
and he says
Oh, to get naked 
in your mind within

The child half there,
towards adulthood calls in, abroad, NZ
6.30am to say, in a round-about-way,
"mother (small m),  you were right,
I should write my career," and 
mother (small m) thinks, 
"Yes, that is the way
'tis for you and me -
the only way within...
Politics should never have been on your agenda;
Politics henceforth should be forgotten within"

And there he stays
with you
until morning 
kills,
promising a life
all golden

Minds unravel 
and undress together
it is a new day

Romance is just a knave
Kings are the aces you
want to play towards
nights that are dark 
and long delayed

He said, She said:

Go to where the poets go
the heart walks naked on bare feet
down the mind’s skid row
kisses unroll wet and sweet 
like the Spring that 
Once Upon a Time
through innocence
showed welcome heart
but now just display
Christmas again, 
wanton and unwanting on
frosted window panes 
coldness like forever falling snow

Kisses in a Poetry Snow Globe
Shaken and stirred
Fall slowly
like tears missing
on a soft cheek
lips press against his
phantom like and visceral

“Rosebud”
a missed piece
in Life’s game…

Monopoly on the balcony 
Christmas once
Tender Moorings
safe harbour
trust was given 
not for barter
$200 pass Go
The Chance Card
says 

"Goal"
"Gaol"
"Gole" obsolete
Scrabble, over a 
Christmas Trifle

A never-ending 
sentence

She remains 
focused
stays 
Rosebud
in a 
Snowglobe

(LadyLabyrinth/ 2019)
llb/gvlm








"Lovely Head" / Goldfrapp
https://youtu.be/TG4hVjFfU6U


"Felt Mountain" / Goldfrapp
https://youtu.be/5sKuikpO6Z0







“There are always two deaths,
the real one and the one people know about.”
(Jean Rhys/ Wide Sargasso Sea)




“To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.”
(Shakespeare/ Macbeth)




“Your red dress,’ she said, and laughed.
But I looked at the dress on the floor 
and it was as if the fire had spread across the room. 
It was beautiful and it reminded me of something I must do. 
I will remember I thought. 
I will remember quite soon now.”
(Jean Rhys/ Wide Sargasso Sea)
CAPTCHA Preview
Type the characters you see in the picture
Required