Listen
As if it were a whisper of salvation at the lip of the cliff
The summit of the waterfall
The roaring of the flame
Listen
A cup of gentle solitude passed silently across
The very heart of what you need
The words you longed to hear
Listen
The deepest gaze of exploration
The open hands of truth
The sweetness of dawn
Listen
Drinking in the rising sun
A fading tail-light
A baby’s weight within your tender arms
Listen
Like the last time I would see you

Image; Visual- what one sees.

Through the mirrored sky I plunge
my weight meets clouds that oscillate
now caused to dance
the sandy bottom of the sea
full rippled with reflections as I glance
before the world becomes opaque
weeds sway in hair-like waves
their colours melding blurred
I see small snails slowly move on rocks
anemones bright like flowers
what visions when the water's ours.

Image: Olfactory- what one smells

There is a world out there, they say
something real to touch
like a wild chestnut glimmering in
quiet autumn rain.
A rustling leaf, fleeting above
a sleeping summer meadow.
The child’s playful fingers
on the tree
in a happy wait between
the snow covered swing and the sun.

first the raw version then the revised one:

Scribbler's workshop:

Storm's Aftermath: auditory

the winds die down
to a whispering breeze
birds begin to chirp
and sing once again
squirrels chatter
back and forth
as children laugh
in tune with
the ice cream vendor's
cheerful chime
and the world sighs
with a contented relief
-------------------
improved version:

NOSFERATU
And she said

“On the wings of Night
he came to me once more.
with dread I willingly
bore my breast to his cold caress
as I had done before

I fell into fever’s delusion.
My blood began to flow
and we became as one.
A sudden thrust
and my womb was seized
by the fire of his seed
in painful ecstasy.

Day put an end
to night’s gentle savagery.
And I was lost
to this world and to the next.

We have loveliest of neighbours
they keep daggers hidden
beneath the bushes
and
hope to strike,
is if unknowingly
they strive to thieve
and
We try to brief
do not be so greedy
they are otherwise nice,
but they know not,
what they do...

how I wish our father
since gone away knew
some are the scum today,
out to bring harm all your way
what damn associates
did you say?
they alone now do betray.

in the trench silt silence
slitting neuron night crush
hope glitters up
and stains the books
dead poets eyes
dust cover falling
beneath the droll words
rushing like a mantle
crumbling in a cry

here in this hiss
sticky glimpse the life
behind besmirched frames

footsteps of grit
to window seek
slowly there

Passion I hear you
cellophane longing
unwrapping a new
book of love

In this waiting room I sit
old eyes are red from lack of sleep
hospital chair don't ever fit
wall clock's hands just barely creep

Stomach wanting to vent gas
as it rebels from vending food
but I refuse to let it pass
unlike some here in this brood

All the magazines areold
the newest May of oh eleven
one has even grown some mold
this place is near reverse of heaven

My head is killing me with passion
and the dog is barking poetry.
It's Saturday and crows are honking
with an early morning mist. Sea gulls
shriek their displeasure or to argue
about why humans waddle like ducks
in and out of their cities.

Sometimes, I am so filled with love
for it all, there's no one left to speak
of romance.

Not today.

He stood silent
With an empty face,
Clad in invisibility
And leaned on a monstrous sickle
Right there at the entrance
Pitilessly watching
-our beloved
On that grim bed
As he laboured
For a piece of breath

A sad sight
And we who claim
Ourselves masters of herbs
Could do nothing
Not even see,
Plead or fight
Him that stood
At the entrance
Neither reaping
Nor helping
Or away leaping
To a different field