Now I hold a key to Solomon's Seal
It fits the Star of David too
Rock climbed the Walls of Wisdom
Cornerstones well placed towards a
Throne of Love, bloody thorns my rope
Courage dissolved into pebbles of joy
As loneliness became Aloneness
On this threshold my nails oxidised
Into water atoms, fire ashed my carbon
Womb aglow with vacancy, heart an
Open page of becoming you will not
Know unless you are ready for Grace
Beckoning from fields of dandelions as
Soccer fields shatter into pastures
On this threshold you are observed by
Luminous eyes which dissolve pigment
Hair, feet, bones, marrow, brain cells
Pleasure and pain like autumn leaves
Make compost before pearls and rubies
Body becomes only heart splintering
Into the spacelessness before the hole
Fingerless I stroke the burnished key
Know how to insert it into my given space
I see skylarks in a shimmering silence
Silver serpents twirl around golden orbits
The threshold disappear as I slide
Into a nothingness of Light at
Peace
GhairoDanielsPoetry2014
Categories:
oxidised, allegory, body, courage, death,
Form: Free verse
The clock’s hands no longer move,
rusted with waiting and heavy with
oxidised breath. Time is no longer
golden but iron turned red with
longing. Ire bubbling below
a patience wearing thin. The
watch’s face is blank, no numerals
guarding its perimeter keeping count.
Under scratched glass, frozen hands
are circled by invisible sharks with teeth
two: one fang long, slicing seconds into
longer minutes; one tooth short, left
hanging like a child’s arm half raised
in question. When alone, time is
corroded by memories that won’t
exist.
Categories:
oxidised, time,
Form: Free verse
Red,
Brown,
Gunned down,
A manchine ceased to be
Oxidised
Realised
Brutalised
Catharsis empathised
Our fate it seemed to be
Hopeful
Fruitless
Helpfull
Useless
Your minds bent eye sees me
I lie here shunned
Yearning
Turned
To dust as you do sleep
But one man sees me
Joyful
Insightful
Ecstatic for my bones
Use is deemed
Beyond whats seemed
From rusted parts and skin
Inside what counts
Is what amounts
To what comes from within
Categories:
oxidised, beauty, mental illness, old,
Form: I do not know?
Call me Ishmael, I am the slave to
desires and dreams of others and
their destinies preclude my own;
the seven seas may inoculate or
infect with depths of drowning dark my
turmoil twisting aimless and alone.
Obsessions of their quests for
peaceful vindication scars my
fraught objectives livid white;
Whilst they can settle down in waves of
salvage, sleep, serenity, all I can
claim is everlasting night.
My treasures sink into the beach, waste
marooned, bare glimpsed receded gaze,
oxidised on salt eroded shores;
with no control of my design, call
me Ishmael by default, do with me what you will
for by default I am, regrettably, yours.
Categories:
oxidised, allegory, death, life, philosophy,
Form: Blank verse