Ancient Starlight


Ancient starlight
On cloudless night
Plays upon
A formless sea.

Cerulean glow
Now darkest blue;
Bright glow of day
Now deepest hue.

Waves reach up,
Pressed to the sky
And fall back down,
Rumble, and die.

Ancient starlight
Stokes their lust
And curses them
To heave and thrust.

Orion’s sword
And Leo’s roar,
Lift them up
And make them soar,

Then throw them back
Down to the sea,
And wink and blink
With ageless glee.

Ancient starlight,
On cloudless night
Plays upon
A formless sea.

Azure eyes,
Raised to heaven
By ancient starlight,

Ancient starlight
By gods long dead.


My gift to you


My gift to you

Tempered in the
Fires of our lust,
Wrought against the
Anvil of our passion.

Naked hands
Blister as fingers
Curl around
The glowing haft.

Blade held aloft
Before my eyes.
Glowing iron
Dries my tears.

Then pressed down,

Slipped through ribs
To kiss
My beating heart.

My gift to you,
To etch your name
Upon a field
Of scars.

I turn to you
Face racked with pain
Searching for
Your smile.

But you see
My gift to you.

And turn away.

My gift to you,
Unasked for,
But given.

My gift to you
The most precious scar.

A Poet’s Curse

A Poet’s Curse

In creation is destruction,
Every work a curse,
We use words we do not own
So weave a vile verse.

A poet hears but will not listen
Sees, but will not say.
Every sound, we hear as muffled
Every scene, we wash in grey.

A poet’s curse, to look upon
A field of fresh lain snow.
Yet say we saw a world of ash
And swear it was just so.

To hear a child’s saintly laugh
And see his cheeky grin
Yet say we saw a knife in hand,
Blood dripping from his limbs.

Holy beauty in sacred words
That lifts both heart and soul,
To be poisoned by a poet’s hate
And turned upon his own.

Each word a lie, a sin, a theft;
Stolen by the pen.
Hollow words and twisted rhymes
Flow forth from empty men.

The Wolf

Lips parted in a feral snarl,
I smelt the blood soaked air.
And in the time from then to now,
My fangs were brought to bare.

Eyes darting left, eyes darting right
I see the threat draw near.
And as he looms tall in the night,
He gives me cause to fear.

His face a swirl of burning rage
His eyes like burning coals.
And in his arms are flaming blades
Set to take more souls.

Defender of those pure sweet lambs,
Who cannot even speak
And now gaze down, with saintly grin
They bleet
And bleet
And bleet.

As those swords are lifted high,
Ready for the kill,
I look upon my treelined home
And to the barren hill.

To see that woods, my earthly home
Burnt down in holy rage.
To make fresh grass for bleeting sheep,
Whose fears have been assuaged.

Or stand and fight and fall upon
My fiery, flaming foe.
And fall down dead, as sheep move in
To piss upon my bones.

My only crime, to be a wolf
In a world that’s made for sheep.
So close my eyes and hope to end
That endless, mocking bleet.

A Zephyr’s Kiss

Learning my ABCs

A Zephyr’s Kiss

Awkwardly I wait,
Braced against the
Cold winds of fate.

Drawing breath,
Even though the
Frozen air was
Gnawing at my

Icy chills grip me
Just enough to
Keep me rooted to the spot.

Looking ahead, I see a
Man walking towards me.

Nothing stands between us;
Only the swirling,
Placid whispers of wind
Quietly stir the night.

Relentless silence
Stills my heart and
Takes my final breath
Unto itself.

Vitality flees my
Wind-worn face.

Ecstatic shudders in the deadly
Yielding of my soul to the
Zephyr’s kiss.

The Bell


Written in July 2012.

The Bell

There was a bell
Which gladly sang a simple note
And thought himself so beautiful.

Now, others hear his cheerful chime
And sang back to him, right on time.
Their voices formed a melody
Which they agreed was heavenly.

Even though this rhythmic chorus
Was considered to be flawless,
That spritely bell began to tire
And lose his place amongst the choir.

He wondered why he never faltered,
Why the tune was never altered.
He wondered why his hollow chime,
Broke not rhythm, nor broke rhyme.

So now we find him, ringing on
Trying his best to like the song.