Love

Love is a word, an image, 

sweetness and solitude, 

sticky sweet cotton candy 

that never quite begins until it ends 

Lingers on the tongue 

writes slow shivers across

memories whose nerves 

have never quite unwound. 

But maybe it is that broken glass, 

stuck in my feet 

while mopping your floor 

A light hearted remark

implying that faith forever 

gone, was once full. 

 

Other days, I drink to life

But on days like this, 

I drink to love and say

Love is a fidgeting child

who on leisurely afternoons, 

elopes with you beyond the hills 

Other days he sulks in a corner 

And I sit with him 

I caress his stories

And say love is time 

Lost, found and simply known

Fairy tales

Allow me to write it all up, 

farmyard tales of 

not-for-any-reason-blues

Once princes were made 

of men in horses who 

wrung a parrots’ neck to meet

 their women

Shiny, glitzy tales, sturdy folksy tales 

Swords and wits and battles to be won, 

stars to be strung on a nights lustful yarn

The books wind themselves up 

after being read, make themselves 

a cup of tea and wait

For another human to reach another world, 

a different coloured country, 

a darker hued woman.

Allow me to turn this page again 

and see if the yellowed letters 

stole some stardust 

from a long ago night 

on that very bridge

Seagulls

All of us seagulls lined up 

next to each other, our togetherness 

measured in meters 

A few million years ago 

when moonlit nights were unwitnessed

All men and all women 

unborn were seeking 

that one song, that one line, that one glance 

Too far away from ones soul,

 too close to where one belongs

And then these eyes were made

So they search for another or

for that perfect answer to empty spaces 

and baby universes 

creeping out of wormholes all around

 like seagulls 

No one came with a coffee cup 

and a book to curl up with to say, 

If you want my life, come and take it 

And no one saw those seagulls scatter