Milky Blond

Not an emblem of fire
or fairytale's bed
left me less than a liar
or kept me held, as

Your
milky hair, spiked
up against the night, background
as the moon peaks round
a cloud, to see if it's worth
coming out,
Maybe you can entice it.

Diamond, by the wayside,
Not a care for us,
the burn was too wide
so squelching, chuckling, not loud
just step–step ... to easeful pep.

I glance to check—
My God ...
gnaw that lip one more time,
and the king's safe will crack open too.
Our future's end may be decided,
but I will look back, fondly, upon you.

Do us a favour?
Spread that touch
of yours,
far, and forever.

I only dread
they'll trick your treat.

No. To the blinding light!
As the demons
all bow out
at your feet.

Trailing Comets

Half a world desired chance spins by
the night-star gleams, ripe, you rode high
brazenly, now crashing fall
brown leaves crunch dry beneath your sprawl.

The longing well bellows again
your depths, dusty from your go-to road
Hell... feigns. Plain. Nothing but... emptiness
aching for growth.

Though half a love, also
is calling you forth.
All that dizzy dream-wandering
has led you... nowhere.
Hurt—we know exhausted—more than your share.

But only you, even can
change your fate
recommit, muster a better plan
set that resolve
next act...
no need to explain,
just don't lie down
on that cold slab
before your time,
Life is a worthwhile game.

You have to show. Do.
We'll stoke a log for you.

Our Boat

(It's All Love)

the anguish, the challenge
the drive to control it right
the heartbreak, the grief
the wrestling, with just having
to suffer, this beastly plight.
the fear, the hatred
the sense, of unfairness, provocation—the bite.
despair, the foolishness maddening
confusion frustration
the stubbornness, to cling on, to fight.
the reckless escape; venturing cubs'
joy of shared delusional capes.
the forgoing more I's
you care, because, you love
the all too human style it was done in
that draws the very tears from your eyes.

A Stick for Bobby

Silence, at the door
worlds of superior minds, enter, pour.

Wait, watch the horns go
rinse off, quickly, the slog below.

Plot the unworn cobbles
tinker on admitted foibles.

Simple, make of it the best
this, here, is your test.

Gift a little trust,
let the sparks land, courage to the cusp!

Agonise our gentler lies
gladdened, to the bone, when they win the prize.

Now my hand in the pocket
of your holey staple denim jacket.

Just one more job, for today—
A stick, for Bobby.