Dreams of you

There are moments when I am in your arms that I am striving for perfection

When I feel my insides reach up through you and out your open mouth.

I am tied to this body moving but I’m reaching towards some higher goal

And want to bring you with me as if we’re climbing hills together.

We are like a conjoined beast that rocks its way in inches up the slope

A two and fro that brings us both one step closer to our heaven.

 

There are moments when I am in your arms that I want to obliterate my self

To tear down that barrier keeping my mind from yours

So that you can feel yourself in me and building to explode

And I can engulf your body with my own.

And at the moment that we shake and tremble

Your cries and mine would be but one.

 

There are moments when I am in your arms that I want to keep you there forever

To feel you pinioned by my chest and torso to hold our hands outstretched

To have you sense every inch of my physical being

And to feel I know your every hidden corner.

To press ourselves as close as possible

To hold your legs around me imprisoned without end.

 

There moments when I am in your arms that I want to grasp your beauty with my sight

To drink in your presence with every sense of smell and touch

To simply listen to you talk and laugh and weep

To comfort you when you are sad, to give you strength when you feel weak.

To look at the world through your eyes and see just what you see.

To walk and talk together,  whatever world we’re in.

 

And when I’m far away I dream of these

And see your face through the veils of haze that cover the moon,

And feel the press of your tongue in licking ice cream

And hear your voice and words and laugh when I live through the day.

And in the soft patter of gentle rain, I feel my own imaginary tears of longing:

The mingled joy and sadness of a distant dreaming heart.

Yesterday I noticed that everything was love.

Yesterday I noticed that everything was love.

 

The trees were drenched in varied hues.

 

Some had crowns of red which dripped down and splashed the lower branches

 

Some had leaves that seemed to smile and tease

 

Each leaf ringed with a red lipstick and thrust out for a kiss

 

Or like a breast held for suckling, the very tip a reddish nipple.

 

The Sumacs showed their inner flesh in reddish wine

 

And ripe for licking.

 

Fluorescent Orange trees flashed against the green

 

Next to maples with leaves like dark and brackish blood.

 

The alien green possession of the trees is slowly disappearing

 

To reveal their real golden yellow, earthy brown.

 

And when you are in my arms and gasping,

 

I feel your own true essence as it emerges

 

The red spots on your cheek,

 

The warm and penetrating glances,

 

Your limbs as they are thrashing in some inner breeze

 

The autumn orgasm of life as it shoots out

 

To fill my mouth with liquid colour,

 

To fill my eyes with rainbows,

 

To fill my heart with overflowing love.

In the room standing naked

In the room standing naked

 

Your beauty shines through every pore.

 

These fingers, lips and tongue are but the tools to join us closer.

 

You reach out your arms to enfold me, your breasts are lifting to my mouth

 

As my head descends to you, to marvel at your wonders

 

Like an antique traveler in unknown territory, pausing and tasting the delights that he sees along the way.

 

I long to kiss and touch the outer sheath that is your body

 

Like the slow explorer and careful hunter to sniff and wonder

 

And like the train across the hills to lick the valleys up,

 

And press my soft caress into your soul to give it comfort.

 

I feel my skin is melting in the presence of your wanting

 

It drips from off my body and leaves me denuded to the core.

 

And when we embrace it is our insides that are clinging to the fiery centre of our common sun.

 

And I am astounded to be in the presence of your desire

 

Your sighs and lifting legs that rest upon my shoulders

 

Your knees drawn back and your open mouth that’s panting

 

As if we’re birthing some astonishing marvel of purest pleasure.

 

And when you groan and shudder, I feel you melt into a flowing liquid

 

That could be the ocean of our beginning. 

 

I am the swimming cell that seeks its mate in your being,

 

Filled with love and as vast as the ancient sea.

 

I see your smile like a half moon in a darkling sky

I see your smile like a half moon in a darkling sky

 

The corners of its crescent lifting

 

And pulling my spirit upward.

 

A warm and gentle welcome

 

While you stand naked blushing,

 

A bold assertion of yourself

 

And a hiding of the wounds you’ve gathered over time.

 

An opening into your inner soul

 

Encircled by enamel guards

 

That yet let in a ray of light

 

Into the darker depths

 

Where I can glimpse

 

Your tongue just resting.

 

A Mona Lisa face whose smile is broader

 

That both conceals and lets me see the truth

 

Of a love that’s growing

 

Like a loaf that’s baking

 

Hot and moist with yeast.

 

And is that the secret you’re revealing

 

When you smile?

 

Your smile which I must see,

 

For which I’d give up my daily bread.

 

Oh  please deliver me!

 

Alone in Andy Haydon Park

Alone in Andy Haydon Park

 

I dreamt you walked with me

 

Along the open shore,

 

The cool refreshing breeze blowing in from up the river,

 

The multi-coloured sails just dancing on the waves

 

And the clear blue sky above our heads

 

But tinged with streaks of cotton clouds.

 

This would be a landscape for our love

 

As arm in arm, we’d stroll and stop to kiss

 

Your tongue as tender as a gentle touch,

 

Your lips the open call to

 

Breathe in slowly and inhale our joint perfume.

 

A young girl would scoot by and shyly stare

 

At two old folk still enwrapped in passion.

 

And as we walked, we’d meet young couples

 

And greet them smiling

 

As members of a common secret club

 

That held its meetings on the shoreline.

 

 

The sinking sun would keep the air still tinged with warmth

 

And we would sit on the wooden bench

 

Below the rustic, rusty waterfall that fed the

 

Quiet pond where ducks and geese and herons swam,

 

The seagulls flying quiet overhead

Abashed by jets that soared much higher.

 

And there would be women by the waterfall

 

Who took our photo

 

And children playing with their boats

 

As silent as a picture.

 

And I would hold your face between my hands

 

And lose myself in looking

 

Until I kissed you one last time

 

And was woken by the traffic

 

And feel the emptiness of being by myself

 

In Andrew Haydon Park.

Awakening the beast

The flower in our path

Electric magenta in the bright bright sun

The green so lush all around

And dappled shadows on the ground.

I saw you move to touch the bud

A darting tip of tongue between your parted lips.

That seemed to wake a horned beast beside us.

The shades of red and pink are not what stir the bull,

It is the movement of the cape.

Or is it your rose lips that part

And leave a little ‘o’ right where a straw would fit?

Is it the breasts whose nipples I imagine

Pressing darker fuchsia through the cotton?

Perhaps it’s your hands

Just big enough to gently hold

The ballocks of the bull

Who snorts and paws the ground

And lowers his head to charge?

Is it our mutual dance and tease

With lips and tongues

And vivid conversation?

And who is the matador on their toes

And who is the maddened bull

That rages at the red?

 

 

 

I heard Rumi wrestling with Pablo Neruda

I heard Rumi wrestling with Pablo Neruda in the park in Wakefield.

 

Their verses were clashing like arms and legs.

 

The dark water broke the light into white leaves rustling on the waves.

 

The dark light entered your eyes and made them black with desire.

 

The sun rode on the clouds like a boat and bobbed the one bright spot

 

That shone from the centre of your pupils.

 

Why does the light cause its opposite?

 

The eagle flew low over the water and called the count

 

As Neruda was lying pinned on the grass.

 

Your lips half opened as they read their poems

 

And I bent to close those soft fleshy gates to heaven

 

With my own awkward mouth

 

Like a cup seeking the nectar that will be poured into it.

 

Neruda heaves like a beast and sends Rumi skyward

 

Flying off like the dove that the eagle hunts.

 

He rises victorious and sinks his legs into the solid earth,

 

Clutching at our sides as we embrace.

 

I kiss you on a glorious day in the park in Wakefield.

 

 

How to keep the dogs at bay?

We walk into the wooded park

In the other world and stay.

But is there any way

To keep the dogs at bay?

 

The sun shines high

The air is cool

The lumbering trees

Surround our hill.

 

And we descend

Within our bubble

Within this world

Where we can stray.

 

But is there any way

To keep the dogs at bay?

 

The scent of flowering

Flows around us

The breeze just kisses us  

With lips so dry and fresh.

 

And water in the creek

Flows by us on the bank

And I kiss your open mouth

With my wet longing.

 

Just stay right there you say.

But is there any way?

And is there any way

To keep the dogs at bay?

 

Holding hands we walk the path,

The music from across the lake.

The huge and ancient trees

Hang down their leaves

 

And keep us safe

Together in our bed

Of greening grass and twisted sheets

Just stay right there you say.

 

But is there any way?

 

 

Like children in a bow’r of branch

We see the fruit of love and knowledge

Hanging low above our heads

And bite the juicy flesh.

 

We could not help but taste the pear

And as I move into your heart

My salty tongue meets yours

And stay right there you say.

 

But the world revolves.

It all dissolves

In liquid down our legs,

The remnant of the flowing river.

 

Where are we now?

The garden’s gone.

The trees are gone

The grass has disappeared.

 

And I am far again away.

So what remains to watch the dogs

Who wait to have their day?

 

Our love still joins us

Though we’re apart.

It stays right here and stays right there

and does not move. 

 

I close my eyes and see your face

And whisper to the wind,

“This is the way the way

To keep those dogs at bay.”

Driving through the Gatineau hills

Driving through the hills of Gatineau

I see the ancient giants of the Shield

Lift their bony heads and hands

Above their stone wracked bodies.

Bent and doubled by the earth

Flattened by the rain and wind

And dropped by disappearing ground.

Their mossy faces stare

From grass lined mounds

As bikers cycle up their sides

Like flies all swarming.

 

We stop to look at lakes

Like dull emeralds embedded in the

Bowls of crust

Upthrust and turned again

Like the mud pies of

God’s children

Hardened and baked

To receive the rush of water

From the depths of old and weathered soil.

We hear the birdsong echo through the tall pines,

The younglings of this forest

Who in their first exuberance,

Dare to claim it as their own.

 

We stand upon the crest

Of ridges cut by the saws of

Nature’s rumbling mantle

And see the flat lands around about

Painted with fields and roads and the sinuous blue river

That snakes its way around the borders of our vision.

We see the shape of the world

As if we could reach out

And touch the hazy circle’s edge

Sketched against a bright blue sky streaked with white scratches.

 

We kiss and chase away the flies who have no purchase.

We hold hands as if we too could claim this universe

And coddling the wonder and awe and beauty between us

We embrace to trap it in our hearts

And pulled by this force of nature

Together

We drive the beauty deeper in

Until we’re left breathless

And unable to speak

And unable to say in words

What we both now know.

O Love what wonders lie

In the Hills of Gatineau!

Dream

Last night I lay between your legs and pushed

Like a mother giving birth

And tried to turn my inside out

And into you,

You tender lover

Taking every thrust

And turning it to yours

Like sinusoidal waves

on a sinuous snake

That moves through time

like mountains.

Until I fall

full fathom five

into that depth

that resists me

And presses my body into

a spout

that drains my love

and pours me out

A curled up form

that suckles on the tips

of tulips

and drinks the nectar of the gods

from the clefts of oysters.

The swollen weight of love

still fills

the sack of pollen

carried from the flower.

The tender teats of cows

engorged in pain

until the gentle squeeze

brings forth a steady stream of white

like a star that shoots

up to the sky and bursts

leaving brilliant lights above

and me

all empty of the load I bore

and nursing the single thought

of you

that fills the empty space

like a meal.

Like a sated babe in a cradle,

I smile

and sleep

and dream of you.