Foreverdeath

[adimon]

We stretch this world
without end:
to find dusk has eyes beneath
weeping skies and darkness.

Embracing lovers at death
consuming
warm breath,
lustful wind and
the perfumed poetry of skin.

The moon’s cold glare
holds us in place-
our faces scattered,
reflected in dry air.

Sorrow so deep
we drown without
a word between us-

ending in doubt,
two broken tears.

Death has made me betray you.

[adimon]

This is my space,
my suit, my shroud of life
surrounded by hollow nothing.

Are we the glow in the white
light reflecting
eggshell angels to be reborn in shadow?

Greyscale death far behind me
I peer into the crystal infinity
electric energy at my back
rippling off my echo

in the slipstream our blurred thoughts crystallise
and sharpen to mindblades, slicing thru The Real
opening up the guts of God to show us all
our own psychological entrails…

We stare and we cannot believe
in the falsity of our own slow swindle.
Can we be freed from this laughable vigil -
break from the still frame and climb
back onto The Ladder?
The swirling portals of The Supermen
only a hand’s reach above our stationary forms.

I can jump if my legs were at liberty
but someone keeps pouring the glue for us all…
who?

[adimon]

Misting
memory conjuring
thoughts and faces
scattering
like hourglass sand
and we never have enough.

Mother Earth singing
lullaby
we sink into eternity
-but take comfort
for the stars reserve
a place
for every special soul.

The grass
grows on,
the wind
blowing harmonica
across our forever-beds of earth
-until at last
we find the
peace / release
we've been waiting for...

To be missed
is like to not be gone
at all...

[adimon]

In this hive of lost souls, I begin
my escape. The tell-tale buzz of excitement
flushes quickly as I struggle through the faceless
crowd, just another passenger,
seeking,
driven.

In the artificial light,
we are plastic toys,
shuffling randomly in our world
of escalators and no-smoking signs,
newspaper screens clutched tightly,
guarding their owners’ secrets.

Whispering a brief goodbye
to the city, I prepare myself
for this new adventure,
my journey in time.
For the waiting game.

London exhales me,
and I watch the suits
on the platform become pinpricks
in my memory.

Six o’clock.
An hour deep into my
osmosis of thought. My forehead
rests against the cold glass, my eyes
peer out, scanning the horizon.

A mackerel sky of pale blue
blows softly over camera-flash
white beneath; hanging low, hung-over
like a mobile for the sheep
to play with.

My mind is out there, too,
wandering
amongst trees and fields,
smudges of green and brown
on a canvas of light.

The faces of my friends
begin to dance inside
my head, now, as I grow closer.

I see myself,
running down the train platform,
towards the grins and the happy
days which await me
there.

I never enjoy the journey back; and I never
look out the window. I escape,
only to return.

I leave myself behind when I get off the train.

[adimon]

The flowers, the sky,

the trees we planted -

later trying as one to destroy them -

here still they stand

in this last, autumn garden,

fertile with the tears of ghosts.


I wait alone
for the weather to change


The fires we could not extinguish -

they burnt us indelibly -

still smouldering

in our detached minds;

your ashen likeness omnipresent -

this smudge of grey leading me astray;

stumbling blind in rain so thick

a Hughes simile could not save me.

[nuit]

you amaze me i think you should put them all into a adimon anthology