Your Secret

Your secret lover, the one who drinks the moon, has stretched an acre of magnetic fields between us. Do you love your secret lover like a god and listen to his instruction? He has led you through blood and bruises and broken your heart in two. Yet still you call him god and believe he is true. And now he possesses you again and turns you against mortal love. What plans has he for you? What tortures will he impose upon you? How will his possession of you be expressed? And your beautiful hair, how can it ever be free? Yes, your beautiful hair, how will it ever be free?

Look at him – is your secret lover the masked figure of a Greek tragedy? Is he a devil wearing the facemask of a handsome god. Are you now like the maenad who danced in the woods? Will you be asked to tear wild animals to pieces? And would you kill the jealous human males who spy on your wild dances from the thickets?

But I heard your speech, I heard the speech of the strange spirit on your lips. I feel sharply his distrust for me. May the true God see his illegal activity and may he shudder.

Girl, carried on a gooses wings into the sun at last. Pour out your love upon my soul and let your beautiful hair be free to shine.

1999

Rose Pink Mist

When the hurt that you have inside
Can’t ooze out of the wound anymore
Do you start to go bad inside
Inside the rose-pink mist

When the wound has healed but the hurt persists
With a life of its own
Where does healing come from?
From the rose-pink mist?

When the mountain stream
Becomes a magma stream
Flowing over your kidneys
In the deep rose-pink mist

When the love inside you
Is sealed over by the darkness
Do you fade like this?
Like unpicked fruit in late autumns
Rose pink mist

Laughing to your yourself
Trying to keep your madness to yourself
In a rose-pink mist

Do you find that even stepping out of the door?
You become someone else
In a rose pink mist

The aura of the rose-pink mist
Is it the happiness before death?
Is it the colour of life’s fading sun?
A flash of final hope
The gift unopened by those you loved

Tears On The Kitchen Floor

Tears on the kitchen floor
My tears
They say the kitchen
Is a woman’s domain
But since we’ve broken up
I’ve gone insane
I’ve left my tears
on the kitchen floor

A strange raincloud is overhead
Its light is as dull
As a used sixpence
It claims that the tears
On the kitchen floor
Are its own

That’s what always happens
To me
I never get any credit
For having any feelings

You Should’ve Been A Wordsworth

Hey – you should’ve been a Wordsworth
Muddling your verbs
Saying to the birds
and strumming all your thirds

Hey – you should’ve been a playwright
saying with your speech
my lord, I do beseech –
My lady let me teach –

Hey – you should’ve been a wordsmith
talking on the cliff
about how your loves belief
was stolen by a thief

Hey – You should’ve been a poetess
who whispers on her breath
is it love or death
this feeling of distress

And hey
Can you see your love today
Running through the streets
trying to find you

And hey
she really wants you to stay
writing poems to her
everyday

Love and understanding

Love and understanding
It’s really hard to do
It’s complicated sometimes
For some when
You can understand someone
But you can’t put it into words
Or you can’t put your understanding to use
Because you love them or
Because they close part of themselves off
Of because of double defensive walls
Or because of feelings
Like refugees crossing over
A sea to another land in the night
Feelings that are lost in inner darkness
Or an argument where
Feelings are disguised in some way
So that the argument is relentless
Or because of
Feelings trapped in a syndrome
That keeps going round in a circle
That keeps exploring its own unhappiness
And cannot believe in a new beginning
And hangs on to what little love they got before
As if that is all they are ever going to get
Understanding you
If I say, I understand you – so what
I have to face the gale-force wind
I have to battle against the shadows that blow in my face
Blinding me, confusing me, making me despair but
If my understanding of you is correct in some way
Then I must endure
I must embrace the wind

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