Temple Bar

Your love is my temple
Where we enter
In reverential
Silence.
These tasselled
Tabernacles
Inside you
Are draped
With silks and refined
Ores from the shores
Of the Aral Sea,
Luminescent shells
And gold-leaf murals
Of peacocks and grapes.
This temple, (just like that arid bed
Once home to sea-cucumbers
And one exotic fungus which
Expunged all poverty,
Caused wars born from
Tribal animosities),
Flooded once, yet while all
Around the shops and houses
Resounded with torrential
Waters and furniture pounded,
(They were engulfed by the love
Of the Lord all around them,
Inundated beyond survival),
Yet you stood firm,
Outlasted all the others.
Your love is the beginning,
An entrance, the frame
In which my adoring form
Is made out of shadows.

We are a communion
Our love out of your love
Conducted by a lightning rod
Until earthed in a channel.

I must be mistaken
If the worth of sleep is awaking.
A telephone rings briskly
Somewhere in brittle distances.
I get dressed and feign existence
In the inbetween life
And all its anodyne mechanics;
I go to work solely so that
I can live and pray again
In those shadows.

Red Moon Blues

I am your red-moon camisole,
A cheongsam of satin,
Lunar satraps patterned there,
A chaffinch in the cabbage.

I am your wardrobe’s winter-wear,
I trapped to bay a blizzard,
Then husky-sleighs across the lake
Beneath an eagle’s eyelid.

I am the fire in the hearth
When you return from working,
And water-ice for your champagne,
Cheongsam drapes a surface.

You Are My Orchard

You are my orchard
And I am the apple;

You are my court
And I am the gavel;

You are my fishnet,
Trapping my salmon

Pink, anadromous,
Under your trident.

You are my bread
With spread raspberry leavened;

You are my harp’s head
And I am the chords,

You: Calliope, Erato,
Terpsichore, and I am

A new murmillo, absorbed;
We dance and we pause

While wild a world billows,
Resist the red pillows

And red-fonted clause
In a river once thawed.

You are X upon X
And I am your ink,

We wake from our trance
And bleach their gold sinks.

Damoclean

Lifelong I have walked in sole-bare shoes,
With the trapdoor of my thoughts
I am going through,
Like an inverse Damoclean sword,
Like a parapet above a bamboo pit,
Each stake sharpened
By your silence as wide
As a black hole’s gingival abscess
Or a behemoth’s grin.

I walk with a shadow
Owned by self-sabotaging indiscipline,
Infrequent in me, your company,
I trod the floorboards while you
Flossed your wolfbane teeth
With cider-froth and
Complacency.

Only lately,
That lateral door’s secured
By love,
A love that endures
Longer and more fast set
Than a Trappist’s bloodstone whetting,
More than the Gordian knot
Where once we tied to dogwood
In this self-same moment
An ageing satrap’s ox;
And I, my love,
I will no longer drop.

Skylark Song

I find a form of comfort
In the ley-like lines,
Dowsing in our jumpers,
Rains from time to time.
A nimble skylark hopping
Between sharp rose hip drops,
Blessed as ivy on the tor
And snow on mountaintops.
Deft she pirouettes through thorns
Which prick a human finger;
I recalled a union there
Wherein my heart she lingers.
If you see a skylark rare
Within a trellised vine,
Consider how the heartbeat there
Is more and more divine.

The Commute

Someday soon, not so long,
Just after a whitening Sun
Has called time Noon,
Contracted, blanched,
All of this, remember
Will be finally far, far gone.
Thoughts and inward feelings
Will yet dissemble and
Be divorced
From the organic source
Like feet once on these bleachers
Now pound heavenly boards;
An event horizon in blue and
A new obilivion,
So why not be a little kinder now
To just, someday,
Someone.

I am, like you,
Flesh and Bones,
My life the size of a grain of sand
Yet my heart could traverse
A universe
To the syncopation of Love.
Isn’t this humanity’s
Latest and greatest
Conundrum?
Karma, make me a dog
If I might bring happiness
As endlessly you turn,
So why not be a little kinder now,
To just, someday,
Someone,
Even if that one someone
Some other day,
As you peruse the newness,
Adjust your hair, brushed,
Coffee brewed,
Commuting to work,
Is you, my love.