Long Candide Poems

I melt into the plural sky
its rippling tableaus of tomorrow
underneath open light waves 
see-saws the labyrinth
like Delphi tendrils crossing channels 
all the changing faces played
automatic, embedded in misty consort 
with Hyde-Lees and Yeats 
love-crushed oracles
ghostwriting...

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"Azure Vistas"

Azure vistas presented themselves to me
rolling inwards the clouds like tumbleweeds
mercilessly bump fallen angels off the map
like torrents of rain falling petulantly on blunt contracts

I glimpsed the sweet refrain of a resurrection
swift upon a...

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“le livre bleu” 

Terabytes.
lonely poets, writers, 
musicians and artists play here,
they wear masks that cover
vermillion dripping smiles
over sharp little wolverine teeth,
they drown their sorrows in their muses -
contemporary little monsters – Still Life, 
they call...

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"The Beetlejuice Past Your Eyes"


“Well, where would you suggest I commence? Should we begin with the concept of pasteurize?”

This said to the earnest listener, who views the protagonist with a bon vivant confused expression. To...

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"Cocoon"

They say...
a New World 
traces over the old,
leaving the unaware,
erased, far behind 

the old unaware, 
left far behind,
crawls the walls
in its web of lies
spinning suspect 
strings of silk 
in the air

glistening diamond nets
slick and sticky...

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“The Juniper Prize: Between the Known and the Unknown”

That man built a house 
of straw and sticks
and the stories that burned within -

all consuming the titled prize;

like a bird 
sings a song
the metre repeats and...

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Unquotable quotes: The Janitor, Gardienne, Landlady, Housekeeper, Portero, the Sereno and the Hausgast – XXXI  Part One

Be they so named or not in these here parts, visions of shrieking furies with Gorgon heads and...

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"Artificial Iris"


Orwell was lurking in the background, somewhere;
the dream was eerily familiar, 
the words and their meanings, read in Syntax,
once read between pages of hardcopy in school 
were aptly ignored - 

however, 
our Overlords were...

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“The Scorpion’s Touch”

Under glass
the sound cuts out sharp
just like under water
and we run out of breath 
like insects running around 
frantically out of time
we are magnified 
in our tight enclosures

internally observed
the external turns away
two heart...

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“Tessellate” 

on the surface
it’s easy to see
we tessellate

inadvertent 
decorative ostentatious
flirtatious lives taking risks 

with the other sides
planned strategic functional 
quantity rich quality lacking

Human

our words our ways
opposites 
like magnets attract, it all fits 

we think it...

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“Concrete Hearts, the Deep End Keys and the Miniaturist's Poetry of Sleep”

Following the Babel paths,
where footprints progress
like rough-hewn braille,
temptation shows itself well deep
to be turned and touched,
substantially labyrinth

The Open 
is lead  
further in, and...

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“The External World of the Internal”

when the Internal 
finally woke up,

it was like all the words 
in that book, flew at It 
like flaming arrows, 
an external barage, a tale, 
of trading 10 for 50,
a...

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“Upon Waking”


Slumber has its upsides 
while the outside runs around
like a split fowlyard, 
cacophonous 
pecking at each other 
and at the ground…

Elsewhere, 

like dull background noise
through the fog of dream 
the sound of the gamble...

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"The Pages"

Missing all those years
like a page you could turn, 
a book you could throw casually aside, 
to be eternally forgotten in electric shady libraries;
at some point you turned around, 
and remembered, what you long...

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“The Blue Nazarene” 

caeruleum caelum 
in nubibus
caeruleum

caeruleum caelum
in nubibus 
de hyacintho nazarene

testimonium:

white stallions, 

clouds commanding
Christus imperium
above all below 

all below 
now present to worship 
a secular ghost

stopped dead in their tracks
those ridiculous battalions
games of war...

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Unquotable quotes: Writers – XXXVIII

     for Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra and Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoieski  
     who let not even hope sustain them and who used their...

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“The Seance” 

It was macabre you see,
we were all summoned,
and therefore found ourselves
in the front parlour of Ballylee;

In our dreams
we thought we were poets
of fabulous notoreity, 
the head ghoul set us straight on that.

The planchette...

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“Words We Cannot Escape”

Words we can no longer speak

we tap dance over keys 
bruised blackly numb
Winter palette in hand 
Autumn now gone 

across white-washed notes fixated on stark enclosed walls 
the scent of old Lavender...

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"Motherland"

The “Removed”,
Charlestons across the keyboard,

fingers have a personality and a mind 
of their own, don’t you agree?

the stalwart mind converses with the frivolous fingers 
its stark increduality, considers All above All

they’re incorrigible, those lithe fingers,
like...

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"Love My Way"

Ghosts read the walls like braille in this place
it’s a macabre dance with the past and the petulant future
it romances them away from the let-it-be moments
on repeat heavenly tortured in the evermore never-give-up

they...

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“The Road to Maximus and Winter’s de-Reckoning” 

Winter pulled me into Her
like I was Her new season
and cooly stroked my fevered skin 
like the contours of my body 
were the finest Lotus silk
an expensive treasure...

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"Their World"

Of course, there was no re-assurance from them that they would respond to the message I had sent. Morning had arrived. 

The day had commenced as any other, unravelling out of bed, in itself...

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"Another Better World"


These little sins 
you smoothly skip across the waters of fairweather lives 
like darkness hidden underneath deadly white lies,
like throwing pebbles casually across The Lake of Tears
that reflect rippling rings rapidly racing outwards...

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“The Language of the Undone”

I prefer 
them 
over humans
those velvet souls 

loving 
the lesser 
parts of me 
always

more than anyone 
else cares to admit 
they inspect 
every inch of me 

walking over me 
territorily 
like...

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“Some Other Poet, White Iris”

When I look in the mirror what do I see?
I question existential questions and fiction, 
my eyes are the eyes of another staring back at me,
perceived through the glassy tear film...

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