poetry for and by wlw

A tissue-paper wrapping around wasted stems,

Bandages wrapped stupidly around already severed limbs.

Scattered limbs, scattered stems, scattered Osiris, Lured

By gold but you are lured by purple, like me, like bees.

Still you’re holding the violets, which are sort-of alive.

Wrappings removed, made rubbish, replaced with a

Showstopper, an engraved glass vase, obvious on a table.

The tablecloth is purple, too, like me, like you. Us.

The sun sets purple and I wait and watch, wilting

While the violets don’t. I thought they would.

I thought the water would poison them, or

Fizzle with the electricity in flower-veins.

Classical music allows plants to thrive, I heard.

We were a metal cacophony but now I think

We are a symphony,  soft purple tunes of a

Piano, made of ivory, smooth and big.

Smoother and bigger is the earth itself,

Swelling like a puffer-fish, reaching to the sun,

Like a flower, like a violet, I think.

Little petal, grant me faith, you are

Spring, purple among yellow narcissi.

And you, who holds the earth, my Atlas:

You are the Empress, shining, letting our

Violets grow in a field like purple silk sheets.

Scones flavoured with violets and cloaked

In whipped cream and shared under sunlight

And finished in purple moonlight and cherished

By the bundles of red string of us are perfect.

The violets were rooted from the soil.

It had crumbled to see them leave but I

Find I don’t mind because I like them

“Dancing in New York” circa 2018

she is my sacred space

an outlet for my faith

all i believe in

and all that i am.

she is my sacrament

my spiritual wine

i am drunk off her presence

and she keeps me alive.

she is my heaven

as god is a man

and god says we are wrong

but no god will never understand my religion.

she is my church, my chapel

the cathedral that echoes my praise

her name is a prophecy in my mouth

and it tastes of my salvation

Her voice is carried upon the wind

The sound of pure joy, clear mind

Her eyes are bright, she knows what she knows

They are grey, just like mine though hers seem to glow

Auburn hair, freckled checks

She is a guide, please teach me that I need not hide

Her smile radiates across the bar

Please don't stand so far

I greet the second

Her voice lingers in my ear

My eyes find the shine of her blonde hair

Clever conversation

Leads to frustration as I walk away without initiation

Strong smile, great style

Intelligent and wild

Why am I so vile

I remember the last

Round bright cheeks

I swear she's shorter than me

Deep brown windows for eyes

They just might be my demise

She speaks with passion, full of life

And I think I know that she is right

Her long dark hair rolls down her back

She shows me the confidence I lack

She is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen

Why did God make me so keen

These are the faces of my imagination

The creatures of beauty that make a hell