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Category Archives: Fiction Writing
Remnants
Fragile and bound for posterity
Our parallel narratives
Collided for a time
Drank in like wine
Left us sobering
Waiting for the next flight
To anywhere
Warm blooded memories
Remain and regain
Lost ground in love's
Demilitarized zone
Rejoice, I have a home
Cosy on the shelf
With volumes of unspoken prose
Sing it in the street
Chanting,'who will keep me now?'
Lost love archives
Dust off faulty pride
And bloom in hidden rooms
As night lights glow
Brightly
Smelling her sweet perfume
Faint air of blossoms
Sting of nettles
Scent of leaves
Fluttering freely
Rain is coming
Shelter in with me
until the weather
turns us round again
Divine Femme
Who laid out
All the stars
In their spheres
For me to admire
Do you sense
Your power
Over me?
The muse's muse
who broke
Cupid's heart
She is calling
Me out
Crawling out
Of my shell
To what end?
To admire her
And her world
Her stories
to tell
Thomas Wainewright Collection, TMAG.
Conservation
Creating space
For recovery
Of species
In the lifetime
Of an organism
Only so many
Life events
Before break down
Conserving
Not many more
Chances to save
Before extinction
Sacrifice us
To save us
One more fire
One more storm
The great divide
And conquer
Before life rebounds
As it must
To breathe anew
All the old growth
Always missing you
Sweetness and light
What’s in a day?
For two bodies
So far removed
Connected only
By the core
Running onward
Chasing the sun
As one rises
Another falls
‘As the day grows dim, I hear you sing a golden hymn’
-Arcade Fire, Neighbourhood #1 Tunnels
Waiting game
Waiting for you
To wait for me
To decide to leave
What if I disagree?
Passing it on
Passing it on
To another one
To keep or return
Treasure or burn
In case I lose it
Altogether
Etched in time
Captured in mind
To love or miss
Remember or spurn
In case we lose it
Altogether
Staccato notes
Braille fingers
Fading then silent
Reading between
Lines of age
Our common fears
In case we lose them
Altogether
Past-love archive
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“I have learned that if you must leave a place that you have lived in and loved and where all your yesteryears are buried deep, leave it any way except a slow way, leave it the fastest way you can. Never turn back and never believe that an hour you remember is a better hour because it is dead. Passed years seem safe ones, vanquished ones, while the future lives in a cloud, formidable from a distance.”
― Beryl Markham, West with the Night
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“Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.”
― Kahlil Gibran
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“We’re going all the way ’til the wheels fall off and burn.”
― Bob Dylan
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“You made me happy and you made me laugh, and if I could do it all over again, I would not hesitate. Look at our life, at the trips we took, the adventures we had. As your father used to say, we shared the longest ride together, this thing called life, and mine has been filled with joy because of you.”
― Nicholas Sparks, The Longest Ride
Timbre of the Heart
A rare bird indeed
we are exotic, an ancient lineage
migrated south.
We are two much, one to know another
protect, preserve our own our offspring,
territorial ties that wound
What we love, what is it?
The glorious plumage?
A splendour to behold
The sound of our call, cool, titillating talk?
are but echoes in the sky.
No, much more than that.
The most glorious sound to adore
is the heart beating in our chests
Listen, my friend, keenly –
look with those two deep oceans you keep.
See – every word, move, motion,
every flash in the eye, affection
reveals the timbre of the heart.
Count the stars of heaven 