Moon is a lonesome voyeur
Who peeks down lustfully at the silhouetted nudity of Night.
Peccant, she does it with overt grandeur,
Reluming steadily crackling embers of a smouldering light.
If the world decides to go pitch black
I’ll follow you into the dark
We’ll light a torch
Find our own path through the rubble
Through the dismay
The tears will seal the walls of our home
The foundation will come from us
We will be warriors
......
My shadow creeps after me-
It stays and stays
On sunny days.
It does things with
Other shadows.
My shadow sniffs a
Black flower.
It looks upon a
Black bird.
The world of shadow
......
Her beauty crept through her bones and oozed through her pores.
As she spoke gold dripped from her tongue and fire spit from her lips
The Panther in the shadows walked with grace and certainty
Hungry for attention, affection, and a spark to ignite her life she pawed down every compliment thrown at her
She satisfied to be unsatisfied. To simply exist in the darkness where there was very little to hurt her and even less to make her happy
......
Echoes of summons ring on.
With them a sonorous clamour for painted lines.
The rim of night stretches and holds fast to
a colossal nocturne hung on furs-and-clouds walls,
and a concentric image of life rotates on
edges of weak silver.
Long-dead poets campaign openly for verses –
among them Wordsworth and Eliot –
each putting a swagger to his arrogant gait of lines,
......
Fallow moonlight, under trees
Darkling sun the animals see
Gloom-grey ruins, the fled day glows:
Nothing's bright where nothing grows.
Fallow moonlight, what comes forth
In the darkness' questioned worth?
Shapes around, not fit for day,
Nightmares bound: just let them be.
Echoes of summons ring on.
With them a sonorous clamour for painted lines.
The rim of night stretches and holds fast to
a colossal nocturne hung on furs-and-clouds walls,
and a concentric image of life rotates on
edges of weak silver.
Long-dead poets campaign openly for verses –
among them Wordsworth and Eliot –
each putting a swagger to his arrogant gait of lines,
......
The absolute reign of night lasts forever
And throbs from wet drums within lengthen its royal reign.
Constellations stud the lashes with midnight views;
Salutations from the owls’ wing-flaps welcome the
Sponge web of the womb of this hour
And the sable-garmented, freezing, old, festered
December day lives on.
Arrangements of coloured words without voice begins.
......
Moon is a lonesome voyeur
Who peeks down lustfully at the silhouetted nudity of Night.
Peccant, she does it with overt grandeur,
Reluming steadily crackling embers of a smouldering light.
Fragrance night, spicy
Breeze tangoes near tomorrow
to green world stage raves
Howling blues stir lilac dark
Starlight, whistling in the park
Clouds keep on drifting
in times of vanishing moon
It's nature's wild dance
a sultry summer tango
......