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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required "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)
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