I was sitting next to the liberty bell
Hidden beneath it was her presence
To keep love alive I must die
For as little as some perfume essence
And when he she leaves me in the night
Like a UFO had left a singed mark
I sit there in the bath of a grave
Reaching for a star
I could be Edward Munch
Looking for a noise in Oslo’s gloom
In the flatness of a storm
In the pious religion
Landscaped with shadows
As you dream you scream
Yet you awake to a bird singing
Appearing in your idle drawings
Strangulated by swift black swallows
Sent from Paris by a secret admirer
Smelling of wine bars and dusty streets
In the flowers of time
Held in your painted hand
As a black coach lifts into the wind
And a warm fire goes out overnight
If you moved
Just a little closer
Would the earth
Turn the colour of lilac
From fast growing trees
That mark the tragedies
Of broken romances
Marked by a million times
What would you look for
Amongst the lilac forest
Amongst the velvet songs
Of lilac birds
Of streams covered
In lilac petals
Like bridal gowns
Floating to the sea
Would you forgive
At the point where tears
Were torn from face
In a lilac scented wind
As you moved
Through the endless forest
Of lilac trees in bloom
Would you forget
The secret affairs of handmaiden
Who in grave of lilac
Sleep
with stars where once
They had eyes
Like skin holds water in its folds
A touch explodes into vision
Convulsing as you burst
Watched by a galaxy of faces
Of time and places
Locked in the cell of a padded dream
You turn over beneath your bed of leaves
And the touch of a breeze releases
A horde of ants
Marching as you breath
In times and place
The point of a needle is a claw
A blob of blood is an open door
Falling down the dark side of a hill
See swarming moths of the divine will
In times and place
After the music has died down
Into a trickle of quiet sound
As a pillow is placed over your face
Hornets are released from a travelling case
Of time and place
twisted barbed wire
entwined together
like outlaws in the Badlands
riding the forks of the weather
tangled like wet sheets
wringing with water
walking home down the long roads
crossing over the border
I don’t know if the moon was full
It made no sound
It rang no bell
I was not caught by moonlight in the window
I was not moved to delirium
I stood like a stake
Driven into the ground
I heard all the weeping
There are times and places
The full moon is not desired
So that the rain can start falling
