The Loop At The Edge Of Reason

Christmas eve seventy-seven

Snowflakes prickle on exposed skin

I pull the duffle coat tight around my neck

As I weave my weary way up Westgate

Glancing in the Black Horse windows

As the amber light spills out

Onto the crystal streets of Wakefield

Paving them in wuffle-dust

My mind wanders and gears click

As I think of all the H...

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Above The Light Of The Morning Star

Pity the dark eyed man who chases sleep.

Yet, pity more, the man who finds that realm

and dances with his friends, long gone,

then wakes to find such loneliness in his heart.

A father’s hand laid gently on his shoulder

or a mothers kiss to say farewell on leaving.

These are the magic lanterns

of the ghosts that are their ghosts.

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Daily Howl

A quiet boy -

he painted rainbows,

got lost in the words

of ancient poets,

spoke with respect,

offered up his seat

and his place in the world

to the unfortunates.

He smiled,

he laughed,

he spoke in words

of love and peace

with passion

and humility.

His voice

a pacifier.

Sometimes,

when the world was cruel,

he cried

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In The Arms Of Morpheus

drifting over

dew cast lawns

bare footed and silent

the silken threads

of spiders webs

lacing toes with frost

melting footprints

cross the path

lead gently to

a flowing river

where dreams

pop to the surface

in silver bubbles

before being lost

In the flowing eddies

the trees

gather close

e...

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