Aftermath

When I close my eyes I see you
On top of me, beautiful and flying
A wild flower, married with children
Things said to whip up my desire

You did not guard the line
The words come back to me abused
Betrayed, spat on, nullified
We are humans, after all, not angels

Now the headache is here & silence
A bottle of wine spilt over my eyes
What God gives, God withdraws
What I want or need He knows best

Emptiness sets in, rage & despair
The way out of prison carefully blocked
For we fear the other’s deprecating look
Trading our lives for flickering death

Burnham Beeches

They sleep, eyes closed, leaves fallen
Their starlight and midnight in Zone 11
Inconspicuous smouldering in early hours
A love game on an island beaded with owls

My games do not make a system
Here is Egypt, here my fingers touch the lake
A sad city, gloomy lovers, blunt spikes
Running and standing and grinding the soil

Knives and destinies, wheels of grass
I look for a prophet drowsing on the bus
My journeys, their trains with tickets aged
My light in the room by its occupants is gauged

People a hundred times larger than mist
Hold on to their gardens around waterfalls
I have come here to be silent in hedges
Munching on in the procession of mud

It looks better digested than derailed
Down-to-earth accounting held in peanuts
Insider information, importance among branches
Ridiculous, vulnerable, conceited and proud