Monday, 28 September 2015

the key turns in the lock securing all that is mine and i trace my fingers in spirals over the walls with their flakey paint and dance down the back stairs relishing the sound created by my weight in motion, leather against stone, smile at the randomness of the phonetic alphabet sellotaped to the door frame half way down and wonder, as always, why? then quietly promise to adopt the fern on the window sill in it's little red pot waiting for better days beneath the glory of a slant of sunlight shining through the warped window to pool in mottled patterns on the floor. this old building, home for now, soaks up our stories to mingle with those of times and lives moved on, i add to the ghostly memories these stairs have seen my own dancing footsteps, trace my fingers with intent in spirals over the walls with their flakey paint and when i reach the bottom place my hands flat on the cool blue walls and feel them breathe.

the sun arcs into evening and the moon grows fatter

the sun arcs into evening and the moon grows fatter by each lengthening night in accordance with the shape our shadow casts in measurements of time we gave a name. celebrating the cyclical journey in our own ways. extract the marrow. say thank you. wrapped in faded remnants of summer sun the tree beside the church begins to blush as the slender bodies of birch shed their tiny golden leaves. fingerprint patterns decorate the pool of water that reflects the world upside down and back at itself.

the earth and air cool, share and seduce with their september scents as the light spreads bright and thin across the wall and we speak with gods and remain humble. without fail the sun in liquid light kisses the horizon at the end of each day and we hold out our tongues to lick the fresh wounds from the bruised knees of the night as we pass through our own flames to the root of the soul and come face to face with our point of origin if only we read the map right.....

Thursday, 17 September 2015

the sky today a dream of softness

the sky today a dream of softness
unburdened by the weight of wings,
but the trees know first
and silently release their confetti colours
to welcome mabon who sings
of the coming of balance
before the world tilts
towards darkness
creeping gently with every heartswell
and journeys move inwards

and then night and cold
and the world in shades of blue
dimly glowing through smoke
where shapes become omens
conjured from fires blooming bright
in celebration and summons and superstition
where we read bones long since buried
only with the intention of being dug up later
which is now, a moment
passing through endless ribbons of dust
and the closest thing
to a not the

Friday, 14 August 2015

Wednesday, 8 July 2015

there are things you're afraid to admit because you forgot how it feels to enter the mouth of your heart with it's voice unheard echoing in the folds and now you struggle with my weight draped around your neck attempting to find your way home whilst performing amazing feats of astral projection to appear in my sleep every once in a while...

Thursday, 2 July 2015

joy. a definition

legs still moving
circles moving circles
small stone rubbing small stone 
tectonics in miniature
delicious crunch under weight
lightness of motion
then the ease and release of grip
(not control)
trust, balance, alignment
and the feeling of a body in flight
i tilt my head, covetous
for the sensation of july's warm breath on my neck
whilst fumbling
in my battered purse for the right change,
attempting to fathom the reason that this
- change -
is the name given to coins..

"as opposed to",

"to make, or become different",

"instead of"

as in movement.

july into august and days circled for ceremony.
a new name. a broadening of edges.

change -

"in addition to"...