A Witch-Clock Hour

A witch-clock hour,

A little more

Before dawnlight

Re-frames the pains.

I’m so, so alone

In the soul cave

Of a room with

A bed so achingly familiar

It’s confusingly strange.

Under the goblin-fluence

of dark-malice spirits

Thinking the world

Owes me an apology.

 

The Mask

 

I will put on

The gentle,

Hazel

Gaze,

The hair, green mask;

Bear the silver saddle

Of crater thunder …

And I will

Ignore your arrogant

Aggression,

Your senseless

Impatience,

Your race without reason.

 

Powerless to speak,

Neither will I weep.

 

image: http://www.canarybeck.com

To Devour the Moon.

There is, apparently a legend that predicts

That, sometime soon, the lunatics,

Released from wasp-paper grey cells

Will endeavour to devour the orange-moon,

Swallow it whole, tear its

Changing face to tiny shreds, Continue reading

All Your Sleep

While they stretch and preen,

Sweat and strut-strut-stumble

My finger is taking memories –

Click by click –

I am mentally repackaging

Versions of history,

Stacking facts

Picking opinions

Filing options for posterity.

Or is this just my ego? Continue reading