More Autumnal Catching Up......

 

The Third Stage.

The smoke curled about this return,

And clearing slightly, we fell in deep,

Of the darker mysteries we may have learned,

No arcane climb was quite so steep.

We invoke the watchers to bring relief,

And catch black pearls from their very eyes,

The sense of unity this time is brief,

The sweet of the sweetest softens your sighs.

The clear air in this scented glade,

In this vision where we last the night,

This shifting time where our plans are laid,

Where the dreams are as real as second sight.

You blur again as we strip this scene,

I sing the observation rite to win your eye,

You spin in uncontrolled ecstasies my queen,

My body dissolves with this catcher's rye.

The trees dance with your sweet sex,

We laugh like children all gone mad,

Sweet naked mania our bodies flex,

In the scryer's mind we are golden clad.

The return to smoke and the real world,

Dissipates the fire that we have shared,

Entwined in the wet sheets round each are furled,

All your aspects, of the girls who dared.

Lights.

One green light on a distant hillside

Traffic light green

Off

On, for ages

Then, dimmer

Then moving

Off

Two, repeat

The routine

Then one again

Five dimmer red lights

Alone

Interruptions, belie intervening pedestrians, perhaps

Then a green

Moving

Then two

Then none

Just five

Reds

Too small for street lights

At the turkey farm.

Define “Weird”

Is “weird” driving into the past.

To see someone who's not there?

Strange dust filled sunset.

Way brighter than anyone accused me,

Or, maybe there was a line to cross,

And I was afraid.

You couldn't come with me, into anonymity.

Or time-travel, and I couldn't....

Is “weird” walking into space we passed through,

Half expecting to live forever,

In a moment of dust, and accusations.

Anonymous takes on a scent of it's own.

With guilt, and sweat, and old diesel boots,

Thoughts of sunsets we couldn't.

And lines we crossed

Just, at different times.

 

Decisions Decisions.

It was another month for decisive jokes,

A time for relaxing,

A time for smokes.

Time for flapping with direction lost,

Maybe should have seen the real cost,

Should have known what to do,

May get around to ringing you,

May say that all's okay,

May remember your birthday,

Could call to say that I love you,

Could wish you well,

In all you do.

Say "I know.." and "I already knew...",

But the point is that nothing's new,

And take time off,

Or 'time in lieu',

Sit around and watch the clock,

Impatient type of latent shock,

Some time maybe to take stock,

Find keys for this mental lock.

But, and there has to be a but,

I forget where one should put,

Oneself when in a rut,

Not, I know, in this hermit's hut.

Still though, it was a month of strange days,

When you know the loser pays,

Count fewer magpies than loud jays,

Use fever to fight the haze.

 

Dreamer.

Marsh lights, weird ways,

Welcome to these strange days,

Here the start of hallucination,

Quite lawful fascinations.

Moody lighting to set the scene,

Vines a-hanging, slime in green,

Deep resonating psychic sounds,

Penetrate these dreaming grounds.

Steaming ponds of dreams you've had,

A bubbling stench, from the bad,

Familiar images deep in a wood,

Reminding you of the good.

Sleep-walking with passion,

On a singular mission,

Manipulate your reality,

Keep, to your sanity.

I am so chuffed with this one I can't explain it......^^^

 Selfies....

I think I need to go and lock myself back in here again.....

It's been a funny old week, again, some fantastic "ups" ups, and some huge downs. I do sometimes feel like this is just an enormously protracted suicide note, well, sometimes, but at least someone will have something to look back on and think, nope we don't understand.

Until my next post....stay safe out there people.

x