And you beneath the apple blossom,
the soundtrack was perfect,
I was just a little too late.
And it was gone.
If only it had been cherry blossom you walked beneath,
I could have made high brow verse about brevity,
but we had enough time,
we just didn’t treat it right,
and now,
when I look up from my book,
you’ve moved away.
On this warm and summery day,
everything feels, just a little too little,
and far too late.
Apologies don’t work, beneath apple blossom.
Outpouring – The Child of Lies and Justice
Sea God, Sun God, rising from the sands,
Lands come from below, hearth and home and hands.
A hand god, a pig god, a newer bow than this,
Never mind the horses without tongue or lips,
A hand god, a healing god and never mind the rest;
we will find them together, and another new thing blessed.
A hand god, a love god, look at all this foam,
she is coming, she is coming, she is finally home.
A standing god, a raven god, upon this earth they walk,
A sea god, a land god, this is nothing more than shirking.
She who lives beneath the sea,
because we pushed her all away,
Do you wonder why you write when he comes this way?
Do you wonder? Do you dare?
And do you think that you can stand?
For I was never Beli’s daughter,
never home and never land.
A hand god, a healing god, did you never notice?
A standing god, a kneeling god,
I think you left it all.
A fever god and fewer gods than there were once at sea,
A listening god, a lauded god and finally there’s me,
a lifting land, a watery marsh,
the pye-wipe calls.
Did you think you’d marry him?
look into the water as it falls,
lift the land together,
find it then, your cup,
but that is all there is for you,
it’s for another is the pup.
A demi-god, a living god, and that is where there’s hope,
you are outside the pages,
do you think you’ll cope?
Not for you the glory, not for you the lies,
this is all about the sun, nothing more,
so do be wise.
Scarecrows
Hanging on to the coat tails of the men who move like scarecrows,
Hanging fast because we swore we’d carry them
and found them carrying us instead,
across fields ploughed and ready for sowing.
Hanging tight in this wind and the coat-tails whipped together,
it was easier to hold on to both at the same time,
and we did, against the wind, and the grit that blew against us,
and we did, against the snow, and the cold, and we looked into the sky,
and said that we loved the ride,
that we had come along, for the ride.
We had, we’d found the men who move like scarecrows walked together,
far better than they’d had to be carried alone,
and we found ourselves blown and buffeted together,
and began to talk of fields that we had known,
as we had been dragged above them by the ‘crows.
Looked into the sky and fantasised of clouds,
imagined crops that would be planted in these fields,
and begun to think that the ride would last forever,
almost got a little tired and our arms began to drop…
and yours held mine up, and mine held yours up,
and then, the winter became too cold,
and the fields iced up one February morning.
Hanging fast to the coat-tails of the men who moved like scarecrows,
we hit the floor when they stopped moving and fell over.
Bruised and bleeding we lay on the frozen earth.
It was only then that we discovered we were not in the fields we had promised,
to carry the scarecrows to.
They had taken us far, far in another direction,
it was with sorrow that we waved and began to walk,
you to the field of corn and I to the field of maze,
both now, still frozen and unplanted,
because we hung too long onto the coat-tails of the men who walked like scarecrows.
Silent Rose
You stand there like some silent rose,
I’m always so aware, that on the edge of sight,
by the door of the kitchen,
some dreaming, dazed angel is standing there.
Some rose, a climber, planted out,
has taken human form, and stands in my kitchen
as if this magic were normal, everyday
or like a commonplace love,
not worth a book or two, or more.
When this bended angel has me confusing
sky, and earth, and magic,
and she has made a rose, take human form,
and stand, on two legs, in my kitchen.
Not Such A Great Smile
That smile was just a little too wide,
That smile didn’t quite reach your eyes.
I like those crows feet you know,
But this time they didn’t even show.
Kiss
I – love – you.
Oh walk with me, walk with me, talk with me do.
Perhaps there is nothing I can say to you.
Perhaps, though I deny the lust,
that is all there is,
but no, there is more.
I want to be who you think I am,
I want to share with you all I can,
and
I – love – you.
Do you need more than this?
I know what I can give,
maybe it isn’t what you want.
If it was I’d give it in a flash,
for one smile,
for one look,
for one kiss,
that was as meant as the last…
Except – is it my selfishness that wishes,
I had done nothing to receive your kisses?
Water
And I – am.
Was I really drowned by you?
Gripping hands cut off the boat before I’d dived myself.
Because I’d be here, if I had been left alone.
I’d have dived,
and I’d have far rather had you there, not waiting with a towel,
but proud, taking photographs perhaps,
of my dive.
Instead, you pushed me off the boat,
and cut my fingers when I tried to grip,
wielded an axe as I tried to say
that I wanted to cling for a little while longer,
was not yet of marriagable age so by what right,
did you kick all hope of marriage from my small body?
By no right at all,
all my wondering why,
it percurses some reasoned answer,
and I hold no reason at all.
My desire to swim is my own,
I own that,
your fists, your axe, they are yours,
this is my blood attracting the sharks,
and that was the only thing you caused.
I dived so deep as to avoid it,
remained there in the depths below,
and when I woke up to find that I could not breathe,
I thought it was my blood in the water that made it so.
I was wrong.
I – Am.
You sailed off years ago, retrained your fists,
threw away your axe perhaps,
and all without telling me,
your axe was yours, as are your hands,
and you turned your back on my blood in the water,
and all the sharks.
I closed my eyes to them,
every night. Every day.
Let them do what they want to me,
I can’t see it, if I do open my eyes,
I might look your way.
I did, so briefly I did,
when I was caught in claws and wings and hooked beak,
pulled from the water so fast my blood caught in my hair,
and there were shark bites on my breasts.
I’d been covered by sharks so long that I embraced it,
easier I felt.
Your bruises had faded but my blood was in my hair.
How did you dare? How did he dare?
I’m sure he thought it was a cure,
tearing out the lumps of you you’d left behind,
perhaps it was.
Bleeding I was held above the waves,
and it was then,
I dove.
And someone watched.
And knew how I’d resurface on my own,
and waited for the bubbles,
and watched my dive.
I am on dry land now,
and still dripping,
but he washed all the blood from my hair,
and your bruises simply aren’t there,
anymore,
just a couple of shark bites,
and I regrew my fingers,
if you swim and know where you are swimming,
then there is nothing that lingers
that you cannot rise above,
no risk of the bends if you do it slowly,
and are watched.
Momentary
All there is and all I need, out on the dancefloor tonight.
Catch the beat with your spirit, dance and be the light.
Everything out on the dancefloor, go be all you need.
Everything in the moment, all of us in the beat.
Some say happiness is fleeting,
some say love is too.
But all that I can say to them,
is you try dancing in the beat, yes you try, go on, you.
So happiness is fleeting,
hell, maybe love is too,
but once you’ve felt it momentary,
once you’ve danced it all the way,
and felt it pulse: me-to-you,
then you’ll know what love is, then you’ll always be happy,
because you can forever find it,
momentary,
between the beats.
So tell me then how to be happy,
tell me then what love is too,
I know that I can always find it,
and all I’m wondering is – can you?
Bus
Wait, haven’t we done this before?
On a bus sometime,
some place, somehow, me and you.
Lying on heather, breathing in the scent,
pitying ourselves in some other universe.
But it arrived didn’t it,
and wasn’t this meant?
We did this before, in some other time line,
So, lets do this again,
lets start this again,
lets see what’s meant this time,
where’d that bus go?
Flood
Pour into me and over me,
pour into me and over me,
then shut me out and close the gate.
I’ll swim elsewhere.
luvlymish
Mish's Quick Kisses 