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the restaurant at the end of..heading to the four corners of nowhere.  star-burst of four kittens under a lid of ice,  and Why? And down in the lake, the sudden  screech of ducks swooping How did we fly here?  while we're rolling in the muddy banks of a tributary, listening to the  songs of carp, warbled through the crystal curtains.  drawn, draped and tangled so we're up to our knees in the  ice, blanketed and trudging through autumnal reeds -  coloured like a quoll scrabbling across a desert of  gum leaves collected into jackets we match with koala-skin boots.  we stroll sweating along trails with undefined edges and str the restaurant at the end of..
The MessengerThe sun, filtered to clotted cream yoghurt through early morning haze,  
      hasn’t yet dried the grey dew, which I flick with white boots leaving  
           a ski-trail from the patio to the files of bees, whose murmurs  
                jog me back to an infant school assembly before the hymn.  
                     My bees, quite used to me, take The Messenger
Flayed SoulDemon dusk encircled me  Heart a ravaged land  Tore by lies   
They tasted my loss  Flickering tongues delight  Feeling my soul open  To their touches   
Foul breeze kissed sin  Cage a broken bird  Limp in grace   
They know my taint  Caressing vapors burn  Feeling my mind fall  To their offers   
Statue  Fear boils, watched pot  Never showing  Stale  
 
Putrid  Tendrils claim, ghosted fog  Never shirking  Accept   
Embraced  Ichor laced skin  Frayed threads   
Claimed  Tear drown Flayed Soul
last night cracks...`  Last night cracks, falls away              beneath an unfading light—                          the world twirls relentlessly  days untold.                                                            She is:                          spinning through nothing at all              walking a l last night cracks...
NowhereThey were everything, the stars –  
their hope we harbored in our pockets,  
and it seeped under our fingernails in the winter cold  
until we bled and breathed them, believed  
their possibilities cupped like fireflies  in our hands – we went to sleep to them  and woke to their memory, dreamed  
them in between – we ourselves  
piloting the ships of tomorrow.  
 
They called us, stringing their melodies  down to earth in half-remembered  
filaments of color: we whispered our promises  up in return, the four of us,  our breaths frosting windows as we  
stared up and po Nowhere
Silence of the Darknessher voice half heard as something overhead  -- a splash of white against the wavering sky --  drones through the clouds, mechanical, bereft.   
It was the shouting of the brightness  And the notes of gloom sung out on high  It was the tear in Heaven's fabric  And the shape of all her many scars   
She spoke in reverant voices  As the priests would, to their King  For the one who heard her call  Sits above the darkened skies   
In the place where teardrops gather  She shall cry this time forever  Till she see's what Heaven knows  Something time will never show Silence of the Darkness
Three WarriorsThe air was dark, and full of fear,  She knew that warriors three were near.  The stars were falling, falling true  Though still the sky was shining blue.  Mournfully she looked abroad  To where the warriors should have trod.  But they were looking out away  Gave no thinking to this darkened day   
The first of these, he felt the call  As the girl, she sure did fall  But he was thinking else wise then  And he wouldn't go, had he been  Another heard, the noise resounds  He turned to see, just like the hounds  Crying out, he said her name  Teardrops fall, he's full Three Warriors
signs of samenessWe were strangers but for the signs  of sameness that beckoned,  softly, to me:   
His voice was pitched a perfect  fifth below mine –  
I could hear the harmonies  of spoken-word already  spreading white and lacy from head  to curving breastbone.   
His fingers curled  around a pen, tenderly clutching:  a lover’s embrace.  It was dull and scratched, like the pen  
blossoming blue flowers  messily in my hand.   
And last,  he had a writer’s scar –  a line of ink drifting  lazy past his thumb, like  the one that crossed  my knuckl signs of sameness
Reflection of a Shooting StarFrosty night air with sky so clear  the Stars look like new.  Bright and twinkling they shine,  surreal luminescence all that keeps  the soft, white world  from drifting into utter Despair.  Their glow dances upon the frozen fabric,  twisting the threads and weave.  Then, as if to stave off the night,  a star shoots forth from the heavens,  Falling to earth in splendor magnified,  and Why? And down in the lake, the sudden  star-burst of four kittens under a lid of ice,  heading to the four corners of nowhere. Reflection of a Shooting Star
05I.   
The bees picked up from my garden  In the swelt of an August noon;           To leave such loose blossoms behind           And fly –  Pallid in death,  As they swell in their race           To touch the tarpaulin sky.   
I watch them lumber, now  Through air congealed           With ghasts of smoke           And a meagre scant of sorrow.  And my heart might stop for fear of a future.   
II.   
Such love was like a fire –           A touch that scarred a blazed redemption;  Pleasure in pain and raging glory.  Such a violent anguish &n 05
Inside a Velveteen boxSeven years of silence,  of silent apprehension and excitement,  much like a child on Christmas Eve.  I am waiting for Santa to arrive  to give my most coveted present.  In that box that lay across the table  velvet-covered and red,  
like the blood that gushed towards my face.  You said naught a word,  looking everywhere  yet nowhere near where I sat.  I,  
feeling so near yet so far away  Your hands, they were clasped together.  Wringing themselves around,  
like the knot that binds thieves and prisoners.  The air soon became misty  like the fog on a rainy Inside a Velveteen box
And Stars Headingand what of the times when I'm so lost  Stars are shining in the bright day  Heading for the times when I'm away..   
and when is the moment when I'm near  star-burst shining forth its light  heading backwards through the stream   
and now I'll say just one more thing  Stars are clinging over me  Heading up for one last time around   
and Why? And down in the lake, the sudden  star-burst of four kittens under a lid of ice,  heading to the four corners of nowhere. And Stars Heading
I'll always wonderIt was buried beneath a mound of dirt  Lost in wonder and a world of hurt  Memories had already long since faded  But there it was, if a little jaded   
Still I'll always wonder of  the one that crossed  my knuckles like a ring seeking  the perfect finger. I'll always wonder
Meta Carpals and BreakfastMeta Carpals and Breakfast  --------------------------   
Early sun deafens  as crusty eyelids flutter  to the smell of toasted bagels.  Cold tiles underfoot mingle with muffled birdsong  illuminating the noise.   
I amble to the eternal hum of  the browning toaster  and the grandpa tone  of my fridge.  Bone bowl and silver spoon  on the marble counter;  a snatch of tilted cereal box  spills oat grain across patterned stone,  mimicking my scattered senses.   
My hand flails but flakes slip  between joints; failure drips,  double decke Meta Carpals and Breakfast
RevoltRevolt   
 
They would meet at the weeping willows  for a thousand and one nights  
it seems  cigarettes were lit in the moonlight  the revolution burning within   
the sacred cause  the pride  the need  scorched them  sending them, unfurling, to the sky as smoke   
Many suns and moons had passed  plans fine tuned and readied  yet there was only one thing  
they never dreamt of   
death   
This venture, this revolt  was part of him  his inspiration  his flame   
Each one of them was proselytized  hand cho Revolt
EuropaA miner saw it first,  Shadows on walls, blotting out the moons,  And she raised the alarm,  her voice half heard as something overhead  -- a splash of white against the wavering sky --  drones through the clouds, mechanical, bereft.  
 
The falconers saw the spears of fire  race across the night to fell the birds  forts and ramparts were hunting the stars  A phosphorous foreplay that set  the Shoulder of Orion ablaze   
The soldiers feared the great redoubt  yet still, with eyes cast down  and in silence, dispersed  and prepared to land in the city.   
 Europa
The City and II have been to the White City  Though it is cowled in grey;  I have strolled through its peaceful side-walks  Along no cherry lane.   
Memories of serenity fill me  Though now I only long  To lose myself in Sufjan's notes;  I remember it just the same:  Young ones riding their bikes  Shouting enthusiastically  What they'll rue in an hour,  A pair of elderly women  Heatedly discussing yesterday's remorse  Telling-tolling today's gossip  And prophesying tomorrow's.   
No, I don't have a cigarette,  And neither should you.   
I come back,  Th The City and I
Her Name Is LukaHer Name Is Luka   
She sits primly, her legs crossed—  her mother always harped on perfect  posture—but now, she is seeking  for the correct white key, like  a chicken: hunting and pecking fingers  at last arrive on the wrong one.   
She hoped most of all to be left alone  in the dark, fingers and laces and stays crossed,  while she cried, gently tracing with her finger  the roundness of a bruise, and tried to perfect  the arpeggios, in hopes that someone would like  her, love her, and end her tired hide-and-seeking.   
She is still hiding, but no longer seeking Her Name Is Luka
StarlightThe pale glow of moonlight  Illuminates my eyes outlined  In a delicate jade of envy  And my lips painted  In a rosy shade of desire.   
With no more than a  
Cloak of worry and fear  Draped about my shoulders,  I take comfort in the jewels of the  Stars above my head.   
You also seem to enjoy the  Stars and their brilliance; my angel  As you live among their beauty  And capture the hardened heart  That I have long sought to  Give to another.   
You beckon me into your  Welcome arms as you call to me  With the poetry of love,  And to Starlight
Starlight GlintThe shine in her eyes.  Such a cosmic proportion.  Though I have never met her.  I wonder if she has been around.  Since the beginning of time.   
Her  smile.. her grace.  Like a comet in space.  Growing, growing with the passage of time.   
Who is she? Who was she?  Time passed. Seasons changed.  Yet through the ages..  In her eyes, the starlight glint remained.   
Whence she came, where she went.  From me, the mystery abstains.  Who is she -that she has cosmic refrains?   
Today, tonight, tomorrow, the answer constrained.  Though it may prove Starlight Glint
AeroplaneOn blue canvas and no borders, no lines, no form  calling odd-shaped animals with woolen fur  -- a kitty you cared for hovers above us --   
--green blades breaking skin painted sunlight--  fingers curling into fingers, into palms, into moments,  the body in temporary rising to the sky and   
her voice half heard as something overhead  -- a splash of white against the wavering sky --  drones through the clouds, mechanical, bereft. Aeroplane
Letting goEyes cast down  With no admission of disappointment the company  Dispersed and prepared to land in the city.   
She did not want  
People to know  She was broken apart  And disappointed  Her life was ending  
And it was in her hands   
She took her steps  Through the building  
Clutching on to  
The banister  Like it was her dear life  
She suddenly let go  Like she was about to do  
 
She made her way up  
Avoiding the looks and the stares  She obviously didn’t work there  
But they all knew why she had come here   
On the Letting go
Jeannie in the starlightJeannie in the starlight  _______   
Jeannie stands amid the whistling  in her mind,  the capelet dark of her hair  
a slip of night that fell to earth.   
She's thin in time and space;  tries hard to leaf in sideways,  to save you the inconvenience of her being there   
The world's a dangerous place, she thought  wrongly,  and continued the dilution of herself   
she got so artful at it that she turned one time  and disappeared for good  or at least forever,  the concentration of her molecules  no denser than the light she stands in,  
th Jeannie in the starlight
ThoughtsSoft, gentle,  
Hesitant,  
Frightened.  
Many thoughts have crossed my mind as of late.  
Fear.  
Of loves gone past.  
Fear.  
Facing the pain of history.  
Mine.  
But why do I allow petty emotions to stop me?  
Halt me in my tracks.  
Stem the flow of thought.  
Thoughts of love.  
Passion.  
Trickling condensation leaking down the windowsill.  
Whispered nothings.  
Words that mean everything.  
Thoughts too soft to be spoken -  
Love.  
Always thinking.  
Now, the act.  
You -  
the one that crossed  
my knuckles like a rin Thoughts

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