More Than Disconnected

There he was –

And here he still is –

Pride-blind stubborn man,

Reaching for the silver,

Expecting the love.

There we were –

Here we are still –

Though far more than disconnected;

Well past dislocated dysfunctional:

Bitter-orphan diversities.

Pretending not to listen,

Not to care.

The big casino simply

Wasn’t room enough.

Another Breath

For the moment –

Though you and I

Are both the poorer for it –

You are the power

(And don’t we all know it!);

You who shout from the screens,

You who worship the silver.

But we the patient peoples,

Of the Tribes of Trees, know

That this moon will change,

That these tides will turn.

So we pull in another breath,

Turn up our collars

And wait.

Insomnia

After Mercy’s wine-sweet twelve,

There’s insistent, chain-gang

Routine-carousel one again.

The roads, skies and

Melody-hung rivers

Pour their silver,

Sinful invitations into

My reluctant-to-ignore ears.

The moon and the rainbow,

Still as distant  as they

Ever were.

Where Speed Is Silver

desert
This eternity-dry furnace land
Regularly eating itself for a living;
This bed of suns,
Casual death of Empires,
Bed of suns wrath,
Migrant’s merciless gauntlet.

Djinn-guard grains,
Impossible sky in flaked-rock ground,
So that simple water,
That which you so desperately need –
And, indeed
Can sea-sand-see –
Is just not there
(…and never was!)

Where speed is silver,
Quicker than thought;
Where breath is spent
Before it’s taken …
And resurrection is
A rootless, long dead tree.

31/1/2013

Photo from tangledwing.wordpress. com (if any objections to my use of this please contact me, I have no wish to use anything without permissions.)