Poetry | Stories | Photography
After many years of love the bow broke,
then the music of love stopped playing;
we began to drift apart and separate.
Littered among the remains of
the two of us
are the ashes of music instruments.
All the music we played for each other
is now burnt
to the ashes on the floor of our parting.
Soft colours play in the light,
her figure once so near to me.
Scattered sunlight plays on my heart,
and her figure vanishes from my sight.
So near to my younger skin –
now, I’m so old.
I stand in the Satie sounds –
no longer young.
Spinning tales in the darkness
as you sleep and dream loudly.
I blamed you for taking my dreams,
as you look at me hurting so much.
You said I took your dreams from you,
for meeting me changed you so much.
In paper dreams, you and I are one;
looking for the light, we cannot see.
Warmth from the fire
We sit in woollen slippers
Watching the day fall away
Baked bread, butter and honey
Biscuits with cup and saucer tea
Baking ourselves in warmth all-day
You stand by a lighthouse smiling warmly.
The Faroe Islands have awakened your words.
You say to me that it may be our home soon.
The desert doesn’t feel rain from a grey sky often.
The sea is a dream for the people of the red earth.
The desert doesn’t understand why you say, “leave.”
I love lighthouses and the many ways of the sea.
The Faroe Islands excites me, yet not with you.
I picture myself alone, looking towards the sea.
You stood with me in the desert under no moon.
A million desert stars lit the sky and my heart.
You stood with me to tell me you were leaving.
I will remember the sea and the colour of your eyes;
Such an adventurous soul with a great love for denial.
I will take my love for you and bury it in the desert.
The desert knew what the sea felt like long ago.
I will feel the sea flow through my heart again.
You can have the sea for now until it takes you.
Rusty razor blades sitting in the bin,
hairbrushes and combes, laying loose.
Bathroom items lounging about,
and something fluffy is stuck to the floor.
Empty plastic bottles and bits sit still,
and dirty laundry piles up even higher.
Packets of surfboards hide from sight;
sex toys blush, quietly contemplating life.
The drain gurgles about your love life;
the trappings of love have found you both –
as you fleece each other with the tweezers.
Ruined by the way he smells,
it’s been almost eighteen years.
Still, I am ruined by his smell;
a soul forever close to my soul.
Many pictures of mothers and children,
as their love for each other glows.
You’re in the North, and I’m in the South,
yet there’s this unbreakable bond.
Still, I wish to see you sipping tea again.
we move
close to
the margin;
our love is wild.
awkwardly beckon
for her love to move
into the bushes
C & K 