The Outline of Her Colour Image

The outline of her colour image creates a spectrum in my belly
Its invisible blues and purples and beyond enwrap my heart in light

And then vanishes like a dream into heavy clouds
Leaving behind memories that are revealed in the stillness of the night
Or they produce a memory of her voice, her speech and words
As if a visiting nightingale nestling on my bosom had begun singing

But still, I’m saturated in the light particles of this experience
I walk in a colourful blizzard of her influences
And I try to put them together again into a real woman
That collapses like a house of raindrops

And her moods are as pleasant as her round figure
They rise and fall like hills in the progress of light into the dark
Where I lose myself in the exploration of her being
both the fire and the rain of her emotions are a healing to my soul

He met her in a forest

He met her in a forest
Miles from anywhere
She sang a bird song
She had flowers in her hair

She had no fear of man
She was curious as a fawn
She stumbles all around him
She’d not seen man before

He had never seen such beauty
Or loveliness of form
Where did she come from?
Was this to be new dawn?

He had met her in between lives

He had met her in-between lives
She had fallen from the trapeze into the safety nets
The stagehand left the lights off
She disappeared outside into the night where I saw her

In shock from her failure
Bruised from the fall
She opened the night like a caravan door
And vanished inside

I left it alone

I left it alone
It turned into a mere stain
Finally, I got down on my knees
To scrub away the cat’s blood

I was not angry with the cat
I simply loved it
I believed it understood my love
Like no one ever has

If love is blood
If love was a shield
Then I must shield the blood
From the war against love

Running around from pillar to post

Running around from pillar to post
Looking for a girl to burn your toast
Catching a bus to get the train
Hailing a taxi to catch the plane

Joanie, Joanie,
Joanie if you’re free
Joanie, Joanie
Joanie come and dance with me

Joanie, Joanie,
Joanie come and dance with me
Joanie, if you’re lonely
Please, come and dance with me

At the time when people start to dream

At the time when people start to dream
When the air is cool and fresh in the morning
Their dreams seem to breathe all around you
A city of dreams just before dawn

My love, she lives in that city
In the quietness before bird song
When all are alone in their dream world
Dreaming of their right and their wrong

Not even the trees breath a word
All harm seems erased from the streets
When you can look up at the peaceful stars
And wish that all life was like this

Life, not death is the culprit

Life, not death is the culprit
Almost perfect, almost sacred
Yet, letting us down, falling short

Life comes to us in rainbow glory
Shining like the sun, a collection of stars
Yet we do not know it; we do not see
We bore into the woodwork like blind worms
We go about our daily routine like slaves

Then the darkness of fear comes
Then the first failings are noticed
The broken heart, the criminal intent
The murderous stare, the sick mind

A small fly infects us
A large animal makes us run
A bird sings we but do not hear
A baby cries but we do not listen

Life begins to fade
It lets go of the flesh
It cannot hold it together
The flesh dries up
The heart weakens its beat
But still, we do not see what lets us down

Life carries on like the notes of a song and stops
When life stops another note is heard laughing
When the laughing stops a great crescendo of noise
When the noise stops another note comes from the distance
Then when that fades an echo is heard through the air
Another birth another life-ending
And no breath lasts long enough to make the music everlasting

The time to be understood

The time to be understood
has passed me by, those terrible days
that turned like demonic windmills
in a hot tear-stained haze.

The time that cried out of me
and that still cries in me
the time of anger and hurt
now rotting in my memory.

The time has turned and slipped away,
vanished in death; vanished by banishment
vanished out of sight, outdated
away to where yesterday’s possessions went

There was when the heart was demanding
there was the time for understanding.

Heart – station of love!

Heart – station of love!
Love passes through my only heart;
the only station on miles and miles of blood
and days and years and forgotten journeys.

Heart – station of love!
Through which passes the arrows of adoration,
the spears of infatuation,
the lightning bolts of true love.

Heart – station of love!
Mirror from which is seen
the daily life of the spirit;
the losses and gains, the sadness, the hungers

Al reflected in its waiting room of blood
looking through its windows at a million, million people
pretty girls and dark girls
angry men and pushy men
evil people and good people
all those who leave the mark upon the heart.

Heart – station of love!
That tries to repair the broken spirit,
to reassemble the perfect spirit,
and fails in dreams.

The heart that dreams,
as if the night knew all its truths,
as if the night embraced it’s cries,
the heart that tries to repair itself,
the heart that breaks and breaks and breaks.

Love and death

Love waits for you
across the ocean
Love stops for you
upon the road
Love awakens you
out of the darkness
Love sings to you
as you dream
Love looks for you
as you wander lonely
Love kisses you
as you open your eyes

Death did not lurk
in the shadows
Death did not awaken you
in the darkness
Death did not hurt you
or make you sleep
Death did not wait for you
at the end of the road
Death did not sing to you
on your sickness bed
Death cannot do these things
when you are already dead

Love tells you
death cannot have you
Love calls to you
from everywhere