Exposed

Cracked blue bowl leaking my salty saviour

Blushing hot in this blue light that plays along my wrist

Daisies dancing along the rim of the eyeless pit

Sand flavoured soup wafts flesh in coils

Hugging my brain. Smoothing the cold crinkled mass.

Although ad hockery poured in china crockery

I am comforted by my psychedelic sensations of

A cold cottage on a dead hill, alone.

Exposed.

To the nerve of Mother Nature who spouts consistent liquid sunshine

So I lift the chalice to my lips and gulp downcast eyes and creased foreheads

Drizzling it down my bare throat, tugging at the skin

Pulling it down easily, like the cracked walls of Rome.

Leaving me utterly

Exposed.

I Know

I know

Look me through the eye,

What can I see?

A rain drop scattering puddles

Boots smashing mud

Splattered faces crying,

With love.

Eyes look past you,

What do you know?

Tears taste like chips

On a wet windy beach.

Waves dancing onto rocks

Ignoring fog.

You look right through me,

Am I even real?

Red scuffed shoes,

Seared to my feet

Scolding I should have known

About the heat.

Sunlight

Hello everyone, in light of yesterday (International Happiness Day) here is a little poem that I wrote. Enjoy!

Sunlight
Sun glitters on my eyes
those blinding specks of white
that spin and block my sight
Are those those moments that people smile at?
Are those those moments where giggles surface?
Lids shut
I prefer the multicolour
of closed eyes
these are those moments of smiles warming my skin
bringing the heart out
gently
gentler

The Momentary Snow

The momentary snow.

It clings to the naked trees

Turning, spinning, laughing,

He grows with the cold,

His body folds, frowning.

Under the weight of the sky sea,

I catch a star on the lash of my eye,

But when the sun breaks from a cloud,

The snow sinks into the ground.

The people continue on their way.

With nowhere, really, to go. 

Forest Fires

Forest Fires

The sun bites,

Its juices screaming.

Brushing heights

The mountains teaming.

Painted trees,

Their leaves burning Red.

We can’t see

The souls of the dead.

Marching slow.

They’re filled with regret.

I will go.

You seem to forget.

All will die a sudden death.