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
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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

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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

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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
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I thought you were a flower

1337644715888I 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
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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
 
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Lewes Speakers Club Championship 2014 belongs to Eliza!

LEWES SPEAKERS CLUB

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

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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
 
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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
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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
 
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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
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the solar lady – song one

 solar_angel_south_lady_figurehead_face_gold_horus_ancient_egyptian_godssolar_lady_ancient_egyptian_angel_goddess_front_wings_marine_art_figurehead_sculpturesolar_lady_egyptian_angel_wings_ancient_goddess_mermaid_eagle_ships_figurehead
 
 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
 
 
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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?
 
 
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in your space

BLUEBELL,JPG
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
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Jetta-Jay’s dancing portrait

SSAMSUNGSAMSUNG
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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
 
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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 …
 
 
 
 
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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
 
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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 …
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my love of England

GRAPHIC BY MILESTONE MAN

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

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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
 
 
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