Archive for seasons


Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , on November 21, 2016 by beautifulimposter

The bitter knives of winter
Are grinding their flinty edges
Hidden discreetly in the folds
Clever and cunning
Finding all the cracks and crannies
Stabbing cold and deep
Into the scurrying masses.

Everyone becomes a dragon,
Smoking breath rising into blooms
Of flaming leaves rattling above
Crackling orange and yellow
Autumn dripping ashes and embers
Flicked from the fag end of November
In swirling arabesques.

The sidewalks look picked clean,
Bare boned, save for rags and scraps
Fugitives all bow-headed, meek
Beneath the lash of winter’s stirring tongue
Furtive dashing from one haven
Of warmth and light to another,
Near numbed fingers desperately clutching
Venti peppermint mochas.

I like to imagine the stories that chase them
Like mongrel dogs tipping at their heels
As I watch, cocooned in glass and steel
Adrift upon the early morning streets
Yet temporarily marooned,
Waiting for the next summons,
Listening to my mind weaving tall tales
To and audience of me.


When Summer Is Gone

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 17, 2015 by beautifulimposter

There will still be seeds of it
In the wreath of grass
You braided into your hair,
The scent of it
Will live under your tongue
So that your kisses
Become ripe berries
Or currant wine.

The lazy forever sunsets
Will be mirrored by your eyelashes
Lids half drawn over the vibrant blue
Of skies that ache forever in perfect
Blue deepening to indigo
Sweeping like curtains of shimmering rain
Held in the breaks between drifting fat sodden clouds
Washing everything new and bright
In the hem of your dress
Tumbled about your knees.

The season may turn as easily
As you do beneath crisp sheets
With a subtle sigh
As gentle cool as autumn
Whispering secrets to the leaves and mold
Raising up the fine hairs that decorate
Your arms, the roundness of your thighs
Yet the memories of summer
Sleep easy between us
Ripe and golden.