silent hope

a stony breath
bereft of eager life
bequeaths eternity
upon the trembling soul
of this lone child
taken all too soon
from the shores
of derwent water
where once she roamed
full of wonder
and whispering ever
of tomorrow’s
silent hope

in the kirkyard of St John Church in Keswick, Lake District

the end of the world

he sits

at the end

of the world

striving to see

something more

something

at the very least

tall and true and

immaculately full

of eternity

something

that will sooth

the angry pain

in his aging limbs

and silence at last

the terrible anguish

in his heart

John O'Groats in the Highland of Scotland

whole

when your breath

my heart caressed

sweetly amended

i

ascended whole

at long last

accumulating hopeful

me,

no longer dissembling

yet trembling and

avowedly anointed

we,

being more than

ever i could

alone have been

dust

the besmeared merchant sighs

his dilapidated stall shivering

even from the weight of the dust

that covers his trivial wares

useless all but for one piece

one timelessly treasured vase

facelessly reminiscent, recalling

nana’s gentle hands folding the clay

never would he have chosen

but for the direst of needs to place

her final work beneath the sun

shunned by one patron after another

a screaming child races past

a cloud of dust clinging to his heels

which kick at the angry world

with zealous determination

behind the child, lost in his clowd

an elderly woman growls, teeters

blindly rubbing her stinging eyes

as her hip collides with the stall

down it falls, beautiful in despair

down it falls, crashing to the earth

smashing a heart that had nothing

left to hope for beyond simply this

he does not scream, does not yell

does not tear at what remains

of the bedraggled gray mess strung

limply over his sweaty crown

his jowly countenance drips sorrow

into the dust of his finality

his skin cracks across brittle bones

enthroning a once proud man

as a naïve prince of fools

clinging

there is such decay

in this aging flesh

such pain clawing

through these limbs

gnawing at the fibers

of transient being

and yet we hold on

grasping at perpetuity

while gasping our last

precious promise

of certain intransigence

and desperate need

we seize at vitality

angrily breathing needles

piercing our veins

with chemical inducement

and medical murmurs

moistened with tears

with trembling limbs

we prostate ourselves

before imperceptible deities

touching coldest stones

with sweaty hands as

generations of ghosts

have done before

banshee

what is it you really see

when first your eyes open

peering through the light

of the slowly ascending sun

falling from the mountains

to kiss warmth across

your glowing cheeks?

surely it is not me you see

leaning needfully over you

ever hopefully attendant

blending my lips to yours

it is not my face at all

but a variant thereof

unconsciously formed

know that in the sorrow

of your declining lips

there is but a specter of me

and in the mournful lines,

in the cracks of your vision

that pierce my rueful being

there is a me that is not me

in your grieving sight

am i a shadow of truth

cringing coldly in corners

fearful of the damning light

longing for the blackest night

and the harrowing cry

of the wailing bean nighe

life

does protrude from this moment

and indeed from every other

so knobbly nudging me

into one direction

or another

but

i am time

i determine now

i decide each and every

turn from this precise moment

to the pivotal next with the utmost will

one more glass

stands untouched

upon the mantle bare

the flavor passed

the moment gone

recalling such joys

i’d never thought

to know at all but

for my beloved you

you reach behind

and stroke my neck

and let the touch

of love beguile me

your fingers adept

caress my deepest

soul with hope intent

on one more kiss

and so before you go

a saddening smile

across your lips

bespeak but to me

this simple oath

that before this time

of mine be done

we two shall share

in gentle warmth

and keenest bliss

a loving embrace

and one more glass

thunderstorm

thunderous cries

shiver the skies

frightening fitfull

Cassiopeia enchained

“oh, beauty is mine

magnificent, divine!”

defying the gods

she had once claimed

but the heavens entombed

this queen to her doom

when her pride

too abundantly flowed

now crash the skies

with her copious sighs

while reaping the sins

conceited she sowed

when you are gone

the warmth of you

accompanies my day,

resides ever beside me

before me, within me,

it clings to my skin

like the hopeful breath

of an honest moon,

reminding me still

always reminding me

how far we have come

how far you have gone