A Dream?

As morning sun beams through,
Water-colour skies;
Melting away the cold snow and ice.
Did the night pass through?
Bringing forth dreams,
Of love, passion and ecstasy?
If but only dreams then why?
Why doth my heart still scream,
Flutter and try to break free?
Are these sweet memories just a trick?
A most cruel trick to play upon oneself,
Of softs kisses upon ever softer skin,
Of screams devout and words of love,
Of promises forever held,
Under the eternal eyes of God above.
If but a dream then a dream like no other,
If but a dream then to sleep I shall go,
To wake I shall nevermore,
For to wake from this dream so tender,
perfect, and sweet,
Would be to cast my body and soul,
Onto the sulpherous coals below.
If but a dream then but such a cruel dream,
Spat from Hades for a man to know,
But never to live,
Damning my heart to never love,
Like the love of my dream.
But it be not a dream which I do recall,
A reality so perfect it merely be;
The substance of which dreams are made,
My love did come in the night,
An angel with wings,
Feathers as blue as a summer sky,
Through open window and into my arms,
Whispering a synopsis of words;
That can only try to describe.
To die right here,
In a moment of unparralelled love,
Be still my heart for this can only be,
A dream to which dreamers dream,
Looking out to the sky above,
Run away with my mind,
My heart doth gallop,
In my arms forever lie,
Until the sun burns out,
Until the tides recede,
And never to return,
Until time ceases and all life follows suit,
Bodies entwined forever in perfect symmetry,
Until fossils.
This dream such a dream,
But a reality.
You my dream,
To which I dream dreams of love,
Eternally.

To Barbara

A hideaway for all in love;
For trysting couples and eloping lovers.
Barbara - A woman of age,
To which wisdom and knowledge,
Keeps her beauty fresh.
Within her walls lustful dreams,
Played out and become reality;
The proprietor of a place,
Built on and maintained by love:
Love lusting for the night, and
Love stitching together the days.

We grace your step on a dark winter's night,
Bride and bridegroom at an alter,
As newlyweds in love we enter, and
As mr. and mrs. signing the register.
Up into the sky we fly,
For our honeymoon - room three,
The best suite available at the A to Z.
As I look at you;
Passion and joy fill my soul,
As your husband I feel complete:
I feel whole.

A bed to consumate our wedding vows,
Within Cupid's house: Under Aphrodite's gaze,
As poison tip doth pierce our flesh,
Two hearts captured on the one arrow.
I spill my blood, my life,
My soul into you,
Our bodies entwined in reverent embrace,
Clasped hands at prayer,
My skin adheres to yours and we merge,
I give myself, everything I am and have to you.

To Barbara; our priest and our host,
Cupid, Aphrodite, God above,
To us you hath blessed,
An everlasting love.

The Winter Before The Storm

Cold graffiti scribbles,
Fading back into the wall,
Scars healing over time,
Echos of happiness, pain, and anger,
Fill this alleyway;
Cries of the dead within,
The abatois of life.

Heavy abiguous boots,
Crushing crunching, cold snow,
Cold skin an expression,
Of the cold heart within,
Frosty breath bellowing out,
Cigarette smoke distorted vision,
Fog on the morning sea.

Dead faces play host,
To dead eyes and minds;
Butterflies flying out to sea.
The blind walking blindfolded,
Footprints on top of footprints,
Just Russian dolls in the snow;
Rats fighting over dead meat.

Warm whiskey filling an empty glass,
Arm clinging on tight,
To a warm and sticky bar;
Greiving widow on a coffin.
Silent thoughts pass through,
Like the ships to port in the night;
A scavenging fox through the twilight city.

The Man In The Snow

I am: But a path from nowhere to nothing;
I see no begining and no end,
You mean everything to me:
You are my best friend.
The purest white offset by a ceiling so black,
You are everything:
And make up for everything I lack.
You know things -
That no one else could know;
To you my true self,
I can but only show.
You feel the same way;
As I but do too,
Yourself and everything about you,
The reason I want you.
Pure white powder;
That I wash my face with,
No matter what:
To you I want to give,
Myself and all.
Now belong to you,
Fear not:
Please know that I am true,
This night -
Let it be a foundation,
On which I build my house with you.

Reclamation Of A Misspent Youth

Trudging on tirelessly,
Through blizzard and hail,
The cold north wind,
Squeezing the breath out,
And life from the soul,
Lips; tight and rough,
Feet; numb and wet,
Back: Cries and whimpers,
Screaming, 'No more!'
Fingers; stiff,
Face; red and cracking,
Spirit; weak and on knees.
Twelve hours in the snow,
Day has now become night,
Not a soul in sight,
Thick crumbs of snow,
Spatter across cold wet squinting face.

Shovel moves snow,
Snow makes brick,
Brick makes shelter.
A shelter to house pride and joy,
A shelter to relive dreams,
The dreams of a little boy,
A shelter that nearly broke one man,
But for that little boy; he did not care,
No matter how hard it got,
He soldiered on all the while,
Happy to die right there in the snow,
For just one memory of that little boy's smile.

Nebula

Industrial flares in the distance,
Illuminate the snow on the ground,
Orange hue reaching up into the sky,
The last remnants of a dying star,
The wind howls and bites,
In the cold dead night,
Beasts in the shadows,
Among this desolate mechanical wasteland,
Hail and snow cascade horizontally,
Peppering all in the way,
No signs of life,
Within this nuclear storm,
Void of emotion,
Shelter within the ruins,
A memory: A ghost,
Time passes and the past is buried,
Beneath the ashes of the dying star,
Cold windows black,
The dead eyes of colder ruins,
Breathing fear and loneliness,
To which the beasts feed,
Never ceasing night,
Only intensifying the angst,
For the light of day,
That will never come,
The black ebbs steadily away,
The stone across the tomb,
Of a dead star.

A Reply To The North Wind

Belittle us. belittle us now!
Let us fall deeper into this,
Blank, white void,
Take back what is yours,
Destroy all medical achievements,
And throw us into Darwin-ist theory,
Purge this earth,
And build upon the rubble and embers,
Allow the phoenix to rise,
Fly high and proud.
Only out of great destruction,
Can a new life flourish,
Respect restored and renewed,
Death is life,
Life is not a life until;
Concluded in death,
No man is worthy of your love,
Throw him out into the cold,
Lest he take his home for granted;
Back down with the animals,
The mongrel starving,
Scavenging for scraps,
Tail hanging low,
Feeling sorry for oneself,
In a world where no one will know.
Those once stood upon,
Delight in your sullen victory,
Because today you have,
Tools within your grasp.
O Belittle us,
Cast us down,
Reclaim your throne,
Throw out the squatters;
Claim back your home,
In your realm,
All men must learn,
A life to live,
Is something you must earn.