I Miss

I miss

the subtle rise and fall

of your back as you

inhale                      —                      exhale;

your lungs gently cradling

the oxygen that lulls

you to sleep.

I miss

being able to tuck your tangles

of hair behind your ears

my 'tips                      —                      touching;

gliding gently down your spine

then returning

to your skull.

I miss

the strand of stringed saliva

that slowly dances

from lips                      —                      to cheek;

as your open mouth

and your tight eyes

paint you in peace.

I miss

the confusion on your face

as your exhalation wakes

your dream                      —                      huh;

as you groggily ask

what has happened and

I giggle.

I miss

your sleepy protests as

the banshee alarm

blares                      —                      alerts;

it demands for us to greet

a new day and you demand

five more minutes.

I miss

the subconscious roll

towards my icy side of the bed

arms stretched                      —                      grasping;

pulling me closer as your

half-alert lips curl

into a contented smile.

Noctambulating

The thrill when

wandering the streets

in the dark

and passing another,

a walking shadow,

in total silence—

both thinking the same thought.

Lost in the solitude

of a lawless and loveless

drowse.

Merry Mess

A damp explosion
     blots to the bottom.
             Peeling erosion;
                     rancid and rotten.
            Daudling it drips;
     crusty and creased.
The page it dies—

                                                        the words

released

Dog at the Theatre (A Variance of Light)

Has there been a change in light

or have I just noticed your flaws?

The rays that break through the blinds

expose the state of your paws.

The clouds have opened like curtains

with the first act set to start.

The tale to put your tail between your leg

and I hope it's only the curtains set to part.

There's a wound you keep on licking

and put on display with pride.

I too have an ailment

but one that I'd rather hide.

Yet all you know is to whine and cry

not telling me what is wrong.

I try to second guess the story

from the tone of your song.

So I ask you to lie in your bed,

my voice stern yet with tact.

I calmly caress the crevice of your skull

and prepare you for the final act.

Compiled Details

As knowledge piles up in the brain

like a catalogue of sand

I wonder how it can conjure up

the meaningfulness of it all.

So many books, so many articles,

videos of album reviews lauded as classics

and the crawling through the criterion list.

Shapes noticed in marble tiles while

waiting in hospitals

and magazines in dentist offices.

Where does it all congregate and dance

and reconcile itself.

Surely not beneath the skull alone;

deeper in space it meets and gains

supra-significance.

There the matrices of experience and memory

and data sit at the table and indulge

in the same bitter stimulant

and laugh about it all

and here is significance gained?

The question itself is laughed away

as an interstellar breeze grazes the skin

of our star-spangled astral bodies

in the café of Jung's darkest abstraction.

Tree Cover Lover's Delight

Have you ever listened to nature?
Not sat in silence, daydreaming.
Not walking through, admiring.
Not distracted by handheld technology.
I mean really listened attentively.
It strikes me how harmonic it is,
the rise and fall; the unison and the grace.
Carefully planned out and ordered yet wildly unpredictable.
People worry about getting lost.
About straying too far from the path and finding themselves
somewhere where they are unfamiliar.
They are already lost; so far gone along
the path of bright lights
that the yhave forgotten where they want to go.

Nature and I have a meeting room
where we can converse uninterrupted.
She is compassionate to my industrial
self-distruction
and smogginess of mechaincal mind
and so I am careful to do my part
to ensure she doesnt befall the same fate.

I met her this week but I turned up late.