Penny Revelations

anansi-magicmirror-tameka-empson

(source)

For a penny

you can gamble your reflection

veneered reverse of silver

invites bronze

Revelations pending

for a penny

nominal persuasion

tempting, come

Caretaker of the looking-glass

awaits you

beckons, whispers 

her compelling song

Listen to hypnosis

for a penny

shall you risk the void

a penny scratch, you’re gone

 

Where We Live

spires and aerials me at night

I live where you live, in the darkness of a mind,

Empty chills around us, lit from lights outside,

You sense what I feel, gloaming casts the beam,

Inertia of the moment, all is as it seems.

I am where you are, upon an empty street,

Vacancies around us, no one left to meet,

Somewhere a bell peals, resounds within and calls,

I stand when you stand, fall whene’er you fall.

me flash

I hide where you hide, behind odd flash of light,

Night and day combined, it seems, still the light’s not right,

You know what I know, behind each night the stars,

Distant, surrounding, burn up but leave their mark.

We know the answers are not to hide and dwell

Inside self-portraits, untrue moments, hollow bells.

I’m brave when you’re brave, awake when you’re awake,

Gather our courage, own battlegrounds at stake,

We fight together, embrace the fear and win,

No hideouts, no heroes, just conquering one of mine.

Enter In Mirage

Where deserts undulate in moving landscape,

Come away, enter in mirage,

Penetrate hazed sandscape gathered round us,

Whirling golden pockets risen fast,

Ride to dusk in ship upon sands’ ocean,

Sunset beckons, razed relief from noon,

Pilot seas where storms arise grain-weathered,

Obliterate horizons come too soon.

Bow to enter tents, erected shelters, on

Holy ground, collapsed in shifting weights,

Follow dreams, red clouds’ appointed charter,

Abandon all reality at sand’s gate.

 

Whose Muse?

She wanders in

when she feels like it,

tarted up, sometimes,

as if every eye in the place awaited her arrival,

flaunts herself

in naked abandon,

flourishing syllabic resonance wherever

wanton desire cherishes her arrival,

poses idly, at times, to capture flash,

smiling, leerily, on red carpet.

Departing with a sneer, she’s

off to sun herself in Grecian myth,

knowing she is

forever wanted

and desired.

A tart to all temptress,

scourging soul desire,

panting wildly when afflicted,

reddened pout

to tease all suitors.

So they say.

So say many.

Some fast while awaiting, and

she’s laughing with margharitas in the sunshine,

leaving clouds fermenting overhead,

idly casting aspersions on your value,

burnishing her limbs with languid poise,

her footstool, your soul,

querulous and querying,

while no great loss to her.

So I say.

A lecher.

No more than any other

of her kind.

Nothing to offer

but illusion.

Still she squirms inside your worth,

dedicates sacrifice to poisoned thoughts.

A tramp, I affirm,

designed and dressed in alter ego,

famishing your soul

until you realise the truth.

Just a bitch,

in the heat of sunny and overcast days,

becalming doubts as her mood takes,

laughing as clouds of despair

part words from mind.

Trust tarnishes her tan,

embittered exchanged coin of nothing.

Shylock,

feasting on flesh that waits

for her arrival

while life demarks

her worth.

May Music, Day 11 – There can be only one…..

Ghost-filled glens, mist enshrouded massacres from old hospitality creep onto and under my skin. Halting in the Pass of Glencoe, shuddering and shaking with immortal cold, only desiring escape from palpable venom and yesterday’s wars. Photographers click. I run. Back and away. Twenty-six years and ten months ago. Love, newly embraced, threatened by death between mountains.

So brief, this voyage,

love and lands glimpsed and wished

thru’ life dream’s passing lights,

peeped portholes of discovery,

vessels buoyed and storm-tossed

in fleeting nights.


Treasure,

pirated insecurity,

priced to always pay

in loving lost,

no sanctioned entitlement

to one second of one day.


Risk is all,

gameplay on high seas,

atop mountains, in glen,

untouchable reality,

all knowledge

without ken.


Love, the alchemy,

banish broadswords

ever-ready,

one challenging another to

supremacy over death

inevitable. Hold steady.


Peaked waterfalls fill

unconscious streams, spilling

elixir into life-giving lochs.

Ocean’s tumult,

earth’s quake,

shell-shocked.


Haar-swathed eternities,

happy-ever-afters,

castles in the air,

whorls of great illusion,

created in and from time. Immortality, 

one love, should we dare.

So, now I hope you can see why I couldn’t possibly share my favourite song from my favourite band for yesterday’s post because it is from my favourite movie. And what’s not to love? It has everything. Romance, some sex, a bonnie lassie, love, hate, evil, good, a conquering hero, an enemy, hope, immortality, Queen’s soundtrack.

‘And shiiit, it even haash me, Sean Connery. Shum shings jusht don’t get any bettur. And Chrishtopher Lambert’sh acshent ish almosht aash good aash mine. And mine haash sherved me well. Even when I waash a Russian.’

Hope you don’t mind I cheated a bit for yesterday’s question, Twindaddy. I thought Yoda could explain.

From The Pyre

fuelled passivity

binds the broken dreams,

despoiled wonderland

screened with silent screams.

shifting visions,

inviolate by turns

corrupted carcasses

pyrotechnic burns.

into the west they sail,

fey folk flock like fauns,

unseeing eyes

perceive departing forms.

pink horizon beckons

from pallid fetid flesh,

embark with dreamers to

new soul journey quest.

emblazoned pendant flies

at mast of glory height,

depicting hope at last

from earthbound endless fight.

work the firecrackers,

dazzle with display,

circus pomp or pride,

illusions of the day.

slumbered eyes may view,

through sulphur’s smoky plumes,

radiant new dawn

in ship’s departing spume.

where the fey folk fled,

in dreamers’ rested lands,

there all dreams abide

for restless, yearning hands.

catch the dreamers’ form,

weave the golden net,

where the magic lives

we dwell in unforget.

Stark Reality

cushioned oblivion

eyes closed to the weeping

hearing drowned in all dreams

reality altered

around us while sleeping

nothing quite as it seems

soothed by the angels

feted in slumber

purified innocent eyes

awaken to terrors, a

heaven more humbler

sleep the purveyor of lies

casting its light

in shadows of darkness

illusory nature of sleep

vile veracity

illumined day’s starkness

now hear those who must weep