To Find Love and My Moon

To Find Love

By Sil, June 2009

And I come to you, a desert.

Expansiveness scattered thin.

I pour my thoughts like sand in your vessel

To fill it up to the brim.

And if my scorched soul shall sip water

And my weary mind shall settle within,

We can follow the road

Until darkness unfolds

To find love

A shore unbound

Fishes of purple in spin.

My Moon

By Gub, June, 2009

I promise you memories not yet spun

Future joys, heartaches, pleasures;

far flung.

I promise you laughter, shadows

Traces of light,

Cats’ paws on doorsteps

Children sleep-overs

Spring walks

Summer, autumn

Winters’ Bite

Love’s flowering

Blossoms bloom

I promise you my days

I promise you my moon

Dance with me

Walz together

Through life’s precious breath

Catch this phrase

Bend it to cadence

Push back death

The equinox of marriage

Ballances the real

With a wish

Gentle bindings

Not taught

Blessed with a kiss

Hearts that thump as one

YES,

For what?

My passion will run

and run

Decaded

Decaded

(By Gub, Jan 2010)

I span this seventh decade

With fifty-one years

To my name.

I feel I cheated at sports

Covering so much distance

With so little gain.

If the plaudits of critics

Alone

Count for value or fame.

I’ve married twice

Sired four children

In rude health

Dissolved a couple of fortunes

And had more than one moment of shame.

I sit between the houses

Of history, and chance

Fate is a fickle character

And God?

As mysterious as road signs in France.

Yet life’s abundance

of motions, so many to map

so little time to play every game.

With luck curiosity won’t drive us insane.

Maybe stillness grows

With movement

Rapidity slows

In our veins

Age is a kind

Of declension

Of meaning

That keeps trading

Names.

Blood will flow less freely

As each quest is better framed

The blessed remain fresh in their candour

The more fortunate wild and untamed

Learning is not the length of live, lived,

But the art of running the distance

With the prayer of forgetting

The price of joy is pain.

Dis-Appointed

Herrick

(By Gub, summer 2004, Wales)

I do recall in better times,

Facing forwards,

Not back,

Behind…

And here and there the damp

Dewed grass

Slipped sideways beneath

Our feet..

You took a stone,

Made a wish

Tucked a dream

Inside a kiss

Time moves on,

life contracts

Bone shrinks,

Minds

Impact .…

And what goes is loves

And what stays is hate

And please

Please,

don’t forget……

To shut the gate.

Rain

(By Sil, 2nd of November, 2009)

Above the entrance it is writ

For all that ever dream to visit:

Do not come too near

My dear…

Beware

This beast is hungry and scared

And will devour lover along with love

Maddened by unbearable need and despair.

Yet you have trespassed with love

Surpassed the border-line

By which un-loved is defined.

Sweet sabotage -

A threat nevertheless.

Your relentless pursuit

Drowned sorrow in

Poetry and order

Now wriggle and heave

Under love’s coat of thorns

Sticky toffee apple dipped in bitter weed.

Mouth burning?

There’s not a drop to drink

Arrogant rainmaker

Don’t you know ?

In here it won’t rain

It mustn’t rain

It never rains!

Drop. Drip.

Bloomed

By Gub, 21st of Febr 2006

You sit

You cough

And you spit

Bile back

Into the bone

Furies cannot be exiled

By proxy

Anger is dealt with

Alone

The slip of the globe

From hand to robe

Is the world passing love

Hand to the glove

Tossed from the page

History is changed

What smelt new

Once fresh

Lies discarded

On the floor

Like a teenager’s

Dress

And the forment

The fume

The tantrum

In the empty room

Becomes

The sanitary reality

Of love’s blossom

Bloomed.

I got out of my cradle 

By Gub, 2006

I got out of my cradle

Today

And cried

I crawled

Pup-like

Across the floor

Sucking

Blindly

At the

Oak staved door

I mewed

I crowed

I bleeted

I fell…

Grace

Tumbled

Face

Falling

Into

The dark

Deep

Shaft

Of

The wishing well.

You woke

Stark

And stable

erect

And fine

You crept

Cat-like

Into the morning

Shrine

You washed

You watered

You drank deep

Drafts

Of the natural

Odour

Sheep in the grass.

What thoughts

Graze

What synapses

Rasp

In projection

Brushed

Dentures

In the bathroom

Glass.

You chew

You chomp

Through

English oats

Your porridge

Still congealed

On the back of your throat.

You clasp your time

You break through reason

Your back supine

On the city’s

Frisson

The clunk the clatter

Of the early train

You chuck

Emotion

Hunger

Sex

Aside

For

Vocational gain.

The cut

The scissor

Of the job’s

Sharp

Call

You’ve gone

You’ve left

Your breakfast

Dishes

A mess.

Mashed

By Gub, 17th of October, 2008

Locked in a sacred garden

We shed shoots of green and grey

Summer morning and autumn evening

Brick walls keep winter at bay

Yet ice is in natures passing

Chunks of debris crushed by the fall

Laughter stops, frozen by the rasping of

Anger caught in the craw

Alpha will find an ending

Trust will loose the day

Entropy unleashed from the fray

No, nothing lasts forever

The wind

Each second

Unstrung

Heart song

Heard

Forwards

In history

Sounds more

And more like

Something unsung

Uoy evol I

Means as much as words

Unsaid

Except as a brain tease

Without feeling

Or the heartbeat

Collapsed by dread

If the wall that we leant on

Were righteous

If the stones we laid down

Were true

If the start of the journey together

Were built with love that was new

Then the ghost that trespasses in the present

-The fox that steals in the night-

Wouldn’t kill our fledgling dream

Love spared the pain of

Solo flight.

Be careful what you fish for...

(By Gub, 9th of April 2008)

Strongly suggest you upgrade to a better model

A younger chap might be less inclined to wobble.

Better on ancillary features like teeth and hair,

Less inclined to despond, to look backwards, and to fear.

The joys of maturity are much over-rated

Youth’s camp is rightfully gated.

There are hormones and prospects in equal flow

No syringing of history, basking pathetic in the afterglow.

So set out your store, give pride and fresh skin its due

There’s halibut to catch, young trout, well just a few.

Tender salmon may lure you, may smack with surprise

That ruddy pink brightness, the light in their eyes.

The old carp, are bony, are sore with the years

Of biting and fighting of holding back tears.

A young fish will charm you will flit through the rocks

Jump Falls a plenty, bite off the end of fishing rods.

Whilst the ancient sole slips sadly, from seaweed to seabed,

A lifetime of solitary spawning and eyes in the back of his head.

Yes, be careful what you fish for…

Or all will come true – the sea, the ocean – the entire planet’s marine stew….

Valentine

Anti-Valentine

(16th of February)

The page never fills

In vain I swim

I’m not made for love,

Or for taking the pill.

I can’t brush my teeth

Of the venom secretion

I bath in your tears

Purifying ablution

I lost my voice

I grew many arms

Grabbed charmed possessions

Protection from harm.

All I am is the tear

Wound that never seals

I bleed and I bleed

You mop up the spills.

Pro-Valentine

(by Gub, 16th of February, Wales)

So

We bleed.

If we feed another’s need

Are we freed

Slightly?

To gaze into the night sky

And watch the comets blaze

To sign each-other's thoughts

With our names

To cross the path of guilt

With pleasure

To share the other's

Verse

Compare rhythm and fucking

We’re on together

As often as we’re off

Our love’s environmentally sound

As frequent lost as it is found

But the battle’s share of

Victories and defeats is ours and ours

Alone.

The love we live

Nothing compares

To what we too achieve

When passion competes.....

Ceramics of love

The ceramics of love

(By Gub 20th of Sept, 2009, Canada)

...through your absence,

I know your substance,

The void displaced

When you are near...

In my weakness

You are the

Expansion

Of air

That shields my heart

From flying glass

Your hands

The petals

That fold

Tight

Around the cracks 0f my

Fragile vase....

Luminous

Blue veins

Criss-cross fractured

Porcelain lines.

A vessel

Shaken

Only by your laughter

Or stirredby your tears....

Proof

(20th of Sept, 2009, London)

Flaky walls

Cracks

Crumbs
Scattered on the floor

Hungry paws

Crass

Wood-marks in red

Footprints of
Wine-glasses that carelessly bled

Greasy fingers on glass

Scratches
Scouring
Resurfaced mass

Life marks its territory

With great pizzazz

Mess delineates
Being from bust

Entropy blends our presence

Into a cocktail of
Meaning
And menace

Every touch
Another dent

Our very living

Silent assault
Against the integrity
Of matter

Around us bent

Skin

Skinless

(London, 5th of Jan, 2010)

I admire
This minuscule dragon

Fearless flight

Shielded by electric cape

All blue vibration
And crunch

Such perfect mixture of you and I

Unburdened
By promises of fulfilment

He doesn’t trace
His footsteps in the snow

Your broken wings
Sag

Cracked skin 

Scraping at doors
Knuckles ragged
Sore

But pain will subside
And blindness will clear

Life is not the layers
But the shedding

Let it snow, let it snow

Flurry mantle
Will swaddle your soul

Let it snow

Love soothes all…

Small

(By Gub, London, 5th of Jan, 2010)

Where you go

What you see

Who you are..

The detail is not

The might of destiny

The grandeur of heroic calls

But the smallness of a gentle

Purring

A dog’s yawn

At a back-scratching

A child humming

Quietly across the garden

Of falling years

Touch is the provenance

Of love

The gait of holiness

As we walk, together

Through the shifting light

Of the forest.

Finders Keepers and Sold

Finders Keepers

I am still alive

Yearning

Injection of thick honey

Trickling through my veins

If only I could 
Dip 
My heart in its amber

Sketch the contour 
Of your features

With the abandon

Of a child playing at faces

But I don’t hold the cast

Of this imprint

So every day

I trace my lines anew

Every day

Anew

Tender labour

In love

Finders keepers

Sold

(By Gub, the 2nd of December, 2009)

I sold my heart

for a pound

of honey

I saw you fold

the note

in two

creased

in half

inside your purse

Yellow

magma

flowed

over

my porridge

my toast

and my mug

tea sweet tea

in six days

the nectar

was gone

the jar empty

so

empty

The note

you stowed

husbanded

resourceful

expanded

leavened

bread

and I

now hungary

beg

to be fed

and eye your fortune.

you smile

and with hands

outstretch

pass back my

heart

from

your chest

keeper

of love's

honey

under lock

or key

I am

for you

captive

trade

yes

never

to be

free.