Who are we?

As many ripples and visions

Of blueness as there are
Waves breaking

All loves,
Ever felt in this life
And the past and the next, 

A distillation
Of moments that flip
The guts into a vortex of

Deepness never seen,
Never heard; only known,
Only now,  no choice.

The force.

Until Death Them Do Part

The silent pledge is the
Best pledge.
Only those that hear it
Know it,
And those that know it
Live it.
Until Death them do part.

Portrait of a well-seasoned man

Small light core on long legs with
Eyelashes ever ready to curl closely round you,
Lifting, but never
Arrogant, always present,
Stirring truth into spice, he disarms

His laundry lines up cleanly
To his  pit pat  on the door-mat.
His jaw, neat and still, in
Grace, unless moved, grows pepper-
Corns which he combs together into his deep warmth.

Grandparents, Reunited.

She had bright
Red papier mâché,
He, a thick oak.  

Between funerals,
The years, brittle,
Wan, now mingled
With the best ones –  

Dusty joy,
Shared; striding, touching,
Swimming through the wind.


There is love, in the
Air, breath it in,
Breathe it out, leave

It at that, do not
Try to fill the lungs
With blood or the
Heart with air.

Big Love

I will love some heart

So big, if he sank,

His wreck would be huge,

Marked out from Space, for

Aliens to find.

He gave me a year in twelve weeks

A month in a week
A day in an hour,
Our sums did not add up
But I did not care  

And he did not count
Until now, then he
Totalled me and my
Figure fell short.

Tango Lesson

Don’t move, wait for
The vacancy between you
To fill with motion that
Churns space into understanding
That moves you to become
Two arcs moving as one,
Separate, yet fused.

After all the poems I wrote about you

Wherever you are

There is love,

Wherever I am

There is love,

If we meet,

There is love,

If we don’t,

There is love,

If you meet another,

There is love,

If we meet again,

There is love,

All loves lead home.


Full Moon

You are a world in a

Man, you are my heart in

My hand and my stomach

In a cup that can never

Be drained, you warm up

My soul with your pulse,

Your nostrils and your breaths,

Every hair that moves

On your face is lucky to be

Born near a warmth so

Keen it could run rings around

Me after circling the moon.