Thawed Hands


You fill the hollow spaces with dread silence
Haughty and austere, the distance grows
And breathes its own frosted breath between
The fraying bonds that snap in frigid snows
That burdened us. Pretty whites and purity
Paint the winters of past affections. Obscurity
Was the cloak I wore. But you? Who knows.
Your pale, frosty countenance a mask demure
Before the impassioned blushes of my lust.
The volcanic gushings of our nascent love
Subsumed in glacial musings in this age
Of ice. I quake no more, my love. Just ash
Infernal encased in arctic embraces. And there
Our love remains, entombed and enshrined beneath
Palaces of ice and snow. My cloak is gone.
I stood naked and exposed to the elements, laughing,
Hysterical, delighted, unafraid, sustained by inner
Fire, and the will to love again. Timidly.
Tenderly. I invited you. Foolish. Far too much time
And frosted breaths had past. As it has now,
As I reflect, secure in new pastures,
With new blushes blossoming on my ruddy
Cheeks. Jovial again, alive. I know you graze
In new pastures of your own. I thought… I thought
Past flames of passion deserved a frosty death?!
The refinement to keep a candle vigil in memorial
Was beyond me then. But now, old lover, I remember.
And remembering the warmth we shared, despite
The cold expanse of years, will melt me down.
With the tundra behind, a horizon of temperate climes
Looms before me. I wish you well, love of old.
Thawed hands reach out, eager for new ones to hold.

Time On Our Hands



“Time’s Still on my Hands”
An original poem -2014
(Inspired by thoughts on quantum entanglement and love as a reincarnating force)

The Time that’s on these hands
No soap can hope to cleanse.
Though it’s a dirty
I don’t mind being.
See, the land of milk and honey
Through me up into the void.
I flew into the Sun.
Thought myself a bird of flame.
When the world went nova
The scars of a forgotten world
Marred deep, but not enough.
Time’s incessant rivers
Drove your memory to the sea.
A wave will crash.
And the sea spray will remind me,
Dimly, as morning dreams fade,
Of the love I shared with you.
And though the shadows of existence,
Of lives been lived before,
Of lovers loved and lost and
Eternal rumination cast their
Pallor over vague images of
What I thought I knew of you;
I know.
I know with a knowing hard to tell
That we have loved before.
And the power of that!
That we should bend time and space,
Rend the multiverse and pull
With an inexorable gravity
Through the interminable ether
Of a persistent metaphysic,
Back to each other!
What the odds?
That the hourglass be shattered
And the sands cast out
Across the vast expanse of creation,
And here,
We are.
On an island of our own.
Glad cast aways buoyed by our
Mutual affections.
And that… The misery.
In the wake of cosmic victory,
We wrote our love in these sands,
On the beach of time.
The tides came in.
The tides went out.
And washed our love away.
I bowed with dashing flare,
I thanked you for your time,
I smiled and watched you fade
From the other end of yours.
Your time stream bore you hence,
And our oceans on different worlds,
And my eyes on different eyes,
But our Time’s still on my hands
No soap can hope to cleanse.

The dagger deep



Oh how you twist the dagger deep,
Into the corner I hide, some obscure part;
Then row against the flow of blood, creep,
Through the whole, into my heart.
I did not stay your hand, but rather
Abandoned myself to the tender strike.
With rivers of emotion flowing, why bother
To deter the dismantling of the dyke?
From within me , you pinch my veins
And staunch the seepage of these wounds.
You rebuild the dam, with care, and with drains,
Should I suffer another season of monsoons.
You successfully sieged my walls of doubt,
Stabbed me, then crept beneath my skin.
And I’d not have warred to keep you out
Had I known surrender was the finer way to win.