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POEMS

Take out from your pockets
all the seeds you've yet to sow
all the flowers yet to blossom
and all the things you'll come to know.

Recognise the darkness
but grow familiar too with light
for it is both of them that nourish you
and teach you good from right.

Take down from the bookshelf
all the letters never sent
Understand the words, their meanings
why they came and never went.

Take my skin and let it clothe you
from the elements of time
Know that I'm your seeds, your flowers
and every word left in your mind

So keep breathing as I write you true
then breathe me into life.

 

MY OCEAN, YOU

My ocean, you.
With you mystery and darkness and depths
That I would swim through
Clutching the unlikely hope
Of reaching the bottom.
To touch with earth-stained hands
The shells that line the entrance 
To your mighty core.
I would be gentle with your insides.
Knowing they’ve been grazed before.
Trusting that your soul’s been swam,
Your heart once sunken,
I would simply float in your abyss,
Just happy to be drunk from.
For you my take my bones
And carve them
Into pillars of the sea.
If this may yield you strength
I grant you
Access to the whole of me.
I only hope that for forever, 
Here is where you’ll lie,
Upon my bleak horizon,
Beneath my aging sky.



SAID THE OCEAN, TO A BOAT

It's all well and good
Feeling, as much as you do

Said the ocean
To the poet

Amazement and wonder 
And the euphoria of loving.
That's fine.

But what about sorrow?
And what about hate?
What about lonliness and heart-break 
And despair and confusion?

What about those dark rocks
Upon my beuatiful shore
That you do love to come down to 
And ponder - early in the morning -
Over how alive you're feeling
And how you're feeling alive.

Did you think about them, poet?
They think about you.