Martin Shone's Blog, page 43

Ballerina kisses

Like a shadow’s reflection against the window of night

how bright are the stars of eternity

as they shine and dance en pointe

; your eyes, deeper and darker – mirrored passions

yet so clear

so arabesque

so

intimate

as their brilliance of soul

touches in pirouettes of soft barefootedness

to caress mine heart

into feathered ovations of nocturnal desire

and yet

like a shadow’s reflection against the window of night

how dark is the sunrise

when the stage is empty of your presence

and all that remains is mine eternal solitude

to reflect upon the dreams

of your sylph-like ballerina kisses

The sound of darkness, the hope of light, and a gift from above

***

The sound of darkness

is the sound a candle makes

when it is no more

than a mere stain

in a cold empty glass

~

The wars of this world

will continue until all that is left

is a thought

rippling through pools of hope

till it reaches the shore once more

~

This cloud said to me

“Who’s that by your side?”

I said, “Who, there’s no one here?”

and so it rained down upon me

and so I smiled

***

Thirsty bee

Aftermath of destruction

A breath of desire

upon shoulders of naked

a kiss of longing

upon the neck of need

a touch of love

upon a lonely soul’s fire

A breath of silence

as curtains allow

the outside world

a glimpse of how

the kingdom of passions

burn the ends of now

A breath of ignition

to light the corn

a song of caress

to wildflower the morn

a draft of kisses

to mend the torn

A breath of poetry

upon your soul

I give you this

my undying whole

cupped with a touch

of an ache, to be free

Beyond the horizon of your dreams

When you see the tree

beyond the horizon

of fallen leaves and twisted bramble

it will call you

it will call you to take a step

beyond the horizon

of your doubts

and when

when there you feel

the skin of age

yet the skin of time

yet the skin of knowledge

yet the skin of eternity

you will feel your own horizon

showing you the way

to love

to love the skin of you

of your soul

of your heart

and then

when you see it

and when you feel it

you will know it

you will know how

to love

beyond the horizon of your doubts

and your fears

When you see the tree

love will find you

and you shall find love

the true love

within you

and you shall find love

without you

for you shall be

a true reflection of yourself

for the tree is a seed of your soul

and your tears

and your tears

will make the leaves blossom

and you shall find love

beyond the horizon

of your dreams

Language of old

A lonely stile

‘neath a wind-swept tree

bent and rugged

leaning windward to thee

Fence has fallen

into disrepair

as barbed wire spins

sheep’s clothing there

Black specks dance

way up in the sky

‘gainst guffawing billows

where raindrops fly

This poor knackered stile

’bout to give up the ghost

creaks and groans

in its language of old

And so I end this tale

with one last brute

full of mud and splatter

and Ginger Wine to boot!

Fear not the anvil

***

Love, how your shadow

sparkles a chandelier bright

Behold, heart, behold

and so surrender

and be loved yourself, in time

for your spirit shines

~

In your heart, be true

as the darkest road is trod

Fear not the anvil

Let it sing!

***

the endless

the endless

endlessness of everything

; giant scrapes of torn cloud, ravage the horizon

eternity in a raindrop

so futile is its existence

when once it was free to fall and be

only to rise once more, only to fall once more

as giant scrapes of torn cloud, Itch!

poor heartbeats, and their endless quests

to remain visible, to remain succinct yet agonised

to separate into globs of blue ‘neath the skin of you

and me

and so form into those tiny heartfelt things we call love

See those clouds, see how they dance with stiletto grace, etching the blue

into a vision of you

the endless

never was a poet so tired!

of nothing but himself

and yet he sees those clouds and smiles

; nests of feathers, perhaps they hold my heart’s wish in a raindrop

Comrades in spiritual love

***

Battles in time and space

for peace, freedom and love

can be solved if only humanity realised

we are all one

we are all connected

we are all comrades in spiritual love

We are all the same skin

regardless

***

You are the music my soul aches for

Like the curves of a violin

your beauty lies

waiting for the music to kiss your soul to life

and then what is there but you

but you

but you are the music my soul aches for

and to have just a little moment of your time

blended with a little moment of mine

would create a beautiful soufflé of happiness

because your soul speaks within the deep of me

with such wondrous avenues of intensity

where flowers sway

and so I sleep upon a leaf of your heart

and like so many petals falling in scented tremblings of unreleased ache

I listen to the cry of your bow

as you play upon this earth in timid sways of softness and desire

The deep of your soul is a melody of rapture

waiting to be kissed with the passion it deserves

but you

with the softness of your kiss

upon the hard shell of my ache

would be like a snowflake kissing dragon fire

The music of your soul writes a duet within my soul

where only empty echoes reside

and lo, here is a song being painted

and as it paints it echoes in splashes against the walls of your heart

a song of the forest

a song of green

a tune with a feathered touch of passion

to echo, rattle and ripple against this cage of mine

to drift

to drift

but you

but you are the music my soul aches for

for the fragrance of your soul envelops my soul

until all that I am

is you

but you

but you

if only you would hold me on the edge of darkness

till we fall into a whisper spoken by the music of a birthing star