Short Back Of Beyond Poems

Pot hole, O pot hole
I saw you too late
And fell into your clutches
Before I could brake

A teeth rattling crunch 
Told me the worst 
You'd won the battle 
My tyre had burst 

And now I am stranded 
In the back of beyond 
With no cell coverage 
And the moon long gone 

The tyre was new 
And now I am stuck 
How bloody typical 
I'm fresh out of luck...

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The area shared with the back of a chair.
Where the spine tails off and leads onto a square.
It's the end and the start of all back and beyond,
Not the standard companion for skin to flesh bond.
But regardless of plainness you managed to find
How handprints and backbones can feel when combined.
Your boldness of action, no secret intent,
Cemented sensations no mind could invent....

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I talk to the trees
and they listen to me
I whisper sweet nothings
they renew the air I breathe

I talk to the trees
tho' they don't respond
beats speaking to myself
in the back of beyond

I talk to the trees
tho' they never reply
my words go unanswered
don't ask them why

I talk to the trees
tho' they have little to say
so the men in white coats
they put me away
...

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In my dreams I go back of beyond
Far, and far away I drift in shadows
Free from all the expectations of life
With the wind my only heart song

Far, and far away I drift in shadows
Grabbing at peace with my open hand
Free from all the expectations of life
Enraptured by just being alone

Grabbing at peace with my open hand
Free from all the expectations of life
Enraptured by just being alone
In my dreams I go back of beyond...

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I thought I was beyond it
 grasping I tried to hold firm
 as each thread passed
 through my fingers 

but my art held fast
 pinching my arms
 numbing my fingers
 itching at me
 
awoken from nightmares
 sweat rolled from temples
 a hollow reed in the dark
 had begun to sing
 
seducing me long into night
 my hands bled
 and spilling my blood
 I made the lines ring
 
in the back of beyond
 I found myself bloody
 weeping of the black
 bleeding out poems...

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Snow flakes
Tapping glass
One by one, 
Scraping silence 
From the pane of autumn’s stare
Where they gather 
In mute reflections, 
Like moths to a flame

Blustering into chaotic rhythm
White upon light, 
Cart-wheeling crystals
Frozen in free 
Falling eddies now
Gathering upon a wind, 
In violent whiteout

As a fire stares 
Back from beyond the hearth
A sentinel 
Of warmth bearing 
Witness to fair warning

From an army of 
Snow...

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he sobs 
hidden in the back lot beyond the woodpile
many days he has listlessly searched for her
wedding wing
thrown as she declared her
independence
or rather
that she never loved him

never?

dark soil and trampled gardens marked by deer
he is alone here
but nothing shines to guide him
nothing shines in the dirt
if only he could find it he'd have something
real 
to show her

now her eyes are cast down
she drives away 
fast
nothing shining....

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