Haiku #530

530.

So, constant low rains;
Pelting windows, like hardship
Might bombard a man.

Landfall

Soul’s Landfall,
Where I defended myself
From remembering you,
Groynes reaching
Out into the grey-brown
Wash of Forgetfulness,
And gabions, their
Amnesiac nets protect
A sandstone cliff.

My memories then
Collapsed into
Themselves like
Immemorial dark stars,
Like crumpled photographs
Which re-posted
On social media
Are tagged with negative
Phrases like Missing
Hurt, and Regret,
Where other minds
Have memories as clear
And well-composed as
Chandeliers, with
Configurations in
Crystal set.

Arriving at theatres,
It’s as though,
Expecting me
To speak at length,
Audiences near and far
With craning necks
Gasped when they became
Aware of my tonguelessness,
My arms and elbows
Meaningless, and
Pinned to my sleeve
A still-beating heart.

So with hatches battened
And shops boarded up
I stooped into storms,
Eyes in water, weather-worn,
Where lashing gales made
Their own Landfall,
Battering just behind me.
Incapable of gazing backwards,
Pacing forward unprepared;
This is how a limbo feels
For the lonely
And the scared.

If you have someone to hold,
Hold them again once more;
If at night you lie beside
The unspoken beauty of love
Then love with words reformed;
And if you’ve lost no less before,
With Patience and Time,
You’ll be together once more.

Poem For Lovers

A fondness for freckles
And inner delight,
Fondles of fronds
Reckless and unfurling
Through my fingers,
We dream of brushing
The hair of forests,
Thinning into copses
Summoned at night.

I’ve been indulging
In the beauty of you
Again, you cupped my
Face and we translated
Pages of love from
The annals of an
Underwater citadel
Resurfaced, relieved
Of its curse and I am
Following the curves
Of your new anallobars,
Mid-Atlantic island,
The storms may lay blame
But you are the lighthouse
And you are the goddess
Of safe passage,
Swallowing the sight
Of your fires in flight
Until our demitasse
Spoon-shaped souls
Blew froth from the tops
Of mocha-coloured seas
Into our blood, the
Moon was tugged by
The lip of the world
And we were filled
With its unflinching
Unfaltering image,
A surface bruised by
Wandering men’s footsteps
Now entwined
In the eternal search
For each other,
Like scuba divers
Gasping as we prised open
The shell and the silence
Of a fabled pearl.