lovers in Brighton

lovers in Brighton
they will search your face as you walk by
their  astute eyes like a sharp light

bent in a question mark

are you mine

 

why walk up the Lanes  to Churchill Square
what fun is there
on a Saturday night everything’s closed

besides
Brighton lovers are everywhere
on a night like tonight
appearing right here

right in front of you –  just now look

where the double-decker has gone in red
waving goodbye to a stocking left at our feet

like a fainted black snake begging for help

 

lovers in Brighton
they will sit in every café and bar on a Saturday night
even the forgotten one in a bistro style
where the two of us ended up
you and I in French with some hot American jazz
and Edith Piaf I was trying to sing to you

and in her language

because I liked you so much

people must  have thought

you were my lover and

with the two policemen kissing each other

in a window display
who would deny that you were mine

she was

she was that hard nutshell                                                                                                    you would insist to break                                                                                                     for the sweetness of her heart                                                                                                she was that lonely singing bird chased                                                                                                                               into a red silence of your night                                                                                      glossy lipstick coloured nails                                                                                               she was benign                                                                                                                   now                                                                                                                                     the mere thinking of her                                                                                                           hurts your sense of importance                                                                                              and adds to her mis-understanding of you                                                                            which collapsed that old world

You Have Finally Arrived

these are not just ordinary dreams
people carve in time as inlaid possibilities
these are more like waterfalls of believes
flowing in shapes
feather-like grace
snowdrops
perhaps snowflakes in May
hanging in on a warm friendly wind
waiting for him who
walks the entire way to the knowhow to say
you have finally arrived
I have written  you now
in that extraordinary ink which
brings a variety of smiles out into the light
so bright
my eyes look down

this love

this love

won’t let go

I’ve tried to run

I’ve tried to outsmart

but it sits forever in front of me

like an old silver cat

purring into my soul

knowing what he wants

and I

I have nothing to give

but fear

rubble past

broken wings

and this silly girlish heart

which can’t even sing

I thought you were a flower

I thought you were a flower pure genius in every colour budding to love

I brought you kindness and laughter a pearly tear to look after once I were gone

so you could  carry on living your golden feet firmly planted in rivers strong

I knew you’d be a tree mighty –  lover of stars and all grass

an awesome runner sure to arrive at the other side 

at the age of five …

you went to school

the muse

I don’t know where the poetry has gone

the two of us are like a secret forest now

she – the muse – hiding in no man’s land

and I – the mortal – wandering in Sussex Downs

desperate to get home

surely she can hear

all the things are mocking me

they have raised their voices in unison

as if there was no poetry

but mere objects to tackle

such life

is unbearable for the both of us

and the muse – she knows

please come back

take me home even now

before the shadow cast me into yet another stone

to become as hard

 

Lewes Speakers Club Championship 2014 belongs to Eliza!

speak
and I will take your voice into my hands
like one takes rain drops from their stream
the whole grey coat of them

speak to me
and I will see gentleness walk by
with roses in array
as I hold your voice to my face
not to let any of them
slip away
when you speak

innocently

this isn’t to say

we have got the entire realm of scent

your crystal breath

has warmly taken over most colours

entered into my sanctuary

swaying along green maps

it is a new land like a

three dimensional dream in sleep

we are entering the flow of time

easily

from behind the watching doors

at the very beginning of things

said and done

innocently

My Valentine

Enchant me 

and I will give you mellow songs

an incantation of love divine

transcendent glide

golden shine

in my red wine

drank to the bottom

of your mouth

bitter sharp

with your name

on my mind

forever fixed

in unison of voices

a distant pitch

higher

than the brightest sky

you and I

lower than the darkest pit

you and me

Ode to Marc Chagall

Mr Chagall

your angels sitting high

mad horses laughing cows

touching my hair

I am afraid to say

but is this art

may I ask why

why would you call it so

I stand upset

the rhymes of your brush

meanders of lines

and those colours

oh those colours

contradict most sense of space

not sure anymore

who is where

your angels in the sky

or I – flying as a kite

the world hangs upside down

anything can happen now

I can see the feelings of a carousel

local magicians coming to town

next year in Jerusalem

did you say

Mr Chagall

Notre Dame

these are your shy silver smiles

like a bowl of apples small

I could take two into my hand

one for you

 

the air comes

with a strong childhood memory

I was there

wet and spice dazzling my eyes

I remember you

in circles of words new

in exotic lands

where girls never die

in a scented dance

of two hearts

on a purple line

 

you were there

with all your cars

high as a sky

or like the Notre Dame

dark passion on her stained glass

this was I

new year

this new year

like a new cat

gingerly comes onto my lap

not sure yet

of the wilted roses

which should be gone for good

by now

like the ones which are cast away

in return for a new chance

perhaps a new book

you would read outloud to me

in the mornings kind

in your arms

 

if my happiness

If my happiness was a golden bowl

you would be the sun

reflecting your rays there

all my days

and in the night

we would sleep deep

satisfied from the light within

 

if my happiness was a chalice of red

you would be its colour true

touching my lips with your name

in every tone

imaginably beautiful

making me feel  anew

 

if my happiness was a house of wood

it would be spacious and kind

with each room as a delight

you would be its carpenter proud

letting me in

rent free

tomorrow

tomorrow

shall be bells dancing

in a graceful melody of rhyme

at my doors wide ajar

to let you come in

over the high thresholds

over the lying fears

over the shadows past

 

what are you bringing

in your arms

strong and kind

 

is it the three orange continents

travelled across  the many seas

and winds triumphant

or

is it cloves and cinnamon sweet

on your lips hot as

Madagascar

 

tucked into an unspoken

memory of a silent film

is my dream

with you in

 

if I were to love you

if I were to love you

there would be a sudden spring

running across my street

with her hair long on the wind

singing

 

if I were to love you

you would look at me

as if you have never known me before

a promised land beyond an island of fear

a harmony in sound and rhythm

the two of us in some heaven

where words mean exactly the same

when they are spoken

and when they are heard

regardless of the language we speak

 

if I were to love you

you would take my hand

into your hand

walking us upon sweet orange floors

where you would close all the doors

with a silver ring strong

letting us be

in the mystery

the solar lady – song one

 

 

 http://www.solarnavigator.net/solar_lady_study.htm

 

I am the sun

my hair upon my face

like the rays in gold

and gold they shine

to guide the royal way

in life in death

I shine my solar power

I soar on wings

I soar on high

before the elements collide

before the de-creation comes

I’ll take you home

above the scars

beyond the stars

into the arms
who know it all

 

 

chopin ballade 4

she comes

from the whispers in the sleeping sand

as if images half there

were caught by a photograph

on a strong air

as if an invisible golden frame

embraced the world

or was it the arms of a loving god

as if a bare anticipation soared high

like your eyes in the  middle of a smile

before the reason overcomes

 

oh the fabric of your music

makes my soul cry

even though you hear no tear

yet the f minor key prevails

white crushing waves

a nightingale

old human fear

chopin

you must have been there

in love

in pain

in vain?

 

 

in your space

in your space
my heart dwells like a

bluebell on the edge
it has always been another morning there –
I remember –
always one more morning
for yet another hope
emerging
from the soft meanders of a night
which

cried long too long
a hope perhaps not too strong to manifest anything
never like a horn
yet
cutting through all

the harsh silences of each

astute balance in every

fact of life
lifting up my bluebell-heart
which

couldn’t care less  innocently
dwelling there in your space
on the edge of things

Jetta-Jay’s dancing portrait

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

she danced

into a harder colour of time

she swirled

along that undescribed line

where hearts usually shiver out of

the excitement of thought

as if you brought

too many  presents for a child

and they don’t know

where to look and what to love

 

she danced

from a shallow pink to a deep red

with her feet forgotten on air

with her breath bouncing lighter

her cheeks above her lips

even brighter

for a sheer happiness of a dance

performed in a wide stance

of a three year old little girl

in her ballet shoes of a muse

 

kites

 

they did not teach you how to fly

in dry red was the discovery made

on hard backs of high horses

pretending their way

yet

tulips still grew under your belt

and spring always came

in same shoes

running

with a bit of a surprise

this time

asking

to take her for a drive

where all the colourful lonely kites wait

their turn

to love you from above

no need to fly …

 

 

 

 

chambers

 

chambers

enter from the sea-side

on a low tide

golden fish and their silky images

surround

April scented steps

 

seashells

no need to count

as if

abundance lived here

in generous arms of strong waves

to lift you up the steps

into that land

you knew

it must have been

somewhere

a place yet to name

though

instantly recognized

by calm fabric of silver airs

resting on quiet planes

where everything

has been said and done

now you can wait

 

between the two of us

give me another leaf – green

a marvel in the key of E

laid at the bottom of your hand

where no word passed

among its lines

but we have said the world

between the two of us

 

your eyes sharp like a yacht’s mast

far in the clouds

mine are the chalice of its grasps

in water deep

between the two of us

 

can it be

that you are

the tree …

my love of England

   read by Eliza

these beautiful graphics are created by MILESTONE MAN - thank you!

be still

read by Eliza

 

 

 

 

I am coming for you

on threads of silence

and strings

in ropes of thoughts

each loving silk

 

there is no haste in my walk

but peace – enough for today

it stands above

your darkened forehead

 

no need to panic – be still

 

I will tuck you in

with my warm breath  fingers’ touch

velvet word and all good will

 

can you see

your hope’s rising like an island

on horizon for a wrecked ship …

 

you are in – no need to fear