A lucid dream

One idle evening
you looked into my eyes
and it began to rain.

The foliage glistened
while I danced alone
under an azure sky
and your arresting gaze.
Soon enough you joined me
-I don’t recall when -
we moved in hazy circles
 in a downpour of desire.

In a while I’d noticed it -
a pearl clung to your ear
and you smiled your effervescent smile
as I stole it with my lips.

The vanishing act

You were here,

a phantom in the moonlight.

The music stops, and you’re gone,

a familiar unsung melody.

I play the same song, over and over,

loop to loop, end to end,

just so you’ll stay.

Life’s cinema, paused, muted,

stuck within its reels

for those moments that you’re here.

Holding on to chimaera

so you don’t disappear.

But you vanish like a dream

almost like a phantom limb

and your smoke rings linger awhile.

Come home

Come home with me,
away to my moonlit island.
Let the storm wash you ashore
on to swamps of chimera
in ripples, of amaranthine visions
where we are one.

Come home with me
watch the lone tree from my windowpane
that gathers lightening shards in its boughs,
the only one on the expanse
that the tempest chose to descend
like your voice upon my ears tonight:
elegies from your throat
that often shatter my being
into a million stars at eventide.

Taste the wafture of my cold moaning wind
for it brings the Rain;
Heaven will descend
in cold orgasmic drops
on a waiting earth, so fragrant
The way your voice
with its trebles and opulence
rains on me infinite renderings.

Come home with me
see my slice of sky,
painted in your hues.
listen to the murmurs
of mango leaves and firefly wings.
Tread on my soil with naked feet
and dance to silence's overtures.

Touch me not, yet;
let us wallow in the stillness
and hold each other in gazes that overrun
while the universe unfolds
before our eyes.

and when you bid me farewell
I shall not weep
For I have your whispered lullabies
to listen to all night.
I always had you -
your voice, your thoughts,
your presence
In the breeze,
the swaying trees,
the wings of the heron
in every wave from the sea,
and every breath I breathed.

Picture: Marilyn Bouchard

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Written on the night of 29 April 2013 for Mikael Akerfeldt, the man himself.
In the hope that one day he might read it.

The Temptress

Voices by the river

and I walk down her trebles
Naked pebbles dream away
Ages eroded on her shore
sediments of lore
anticipating a footfall, lay
Oh, the slightest quiver in her slumber.

Kissed by mist
embanked by silence
sleeping streams of turbulence
whispered songs of a yearning

floating butterfly wings
fragments of her soul,
contained,
sedimented, in her solitude.

Daunting in her beauty
terrible in her torrent,
the Temptress
dances with her secrets deep
Touched by none,
but the Phantom of Time.

Her name was Dementia

Footsteps of silence
placid steps drowned in mire
not a breath, nor a sigh;
deep she descents
down the forest of Oblivion.
Her feet beseech
the fallen leaves
for trinkets lost -
and never found.

Canopies of distrust
mocks her sky beyond
remnants of the lambent
trickle down the undergrowth.

Stab the light
and it bleeds;
slithering beneath
are moonlit serpents
devouring scattered thoughts.

Death stood alone
a little further
in a travelling cloak
woven of shadow;
with open arms
he drew her close,
tenderness he breathed
with a kiss planted deep
and he wrought her soul unto his own.

The seed of love.

She asked for a gift that would be forever.
He gave her, not diamonds, nor lovebites lingering
but a pot of Earth - with a seed buried within.


"Feed it warm care, and drops of passion
a whispered caress and good clean air
Bloom it would, into valleys of flowers,
an orchard where children would play,
where by night, you and me while making love
shall dream of  esoteric shores
and fall asleep on the forest floor 
under the ardent moon aglow."




She placed it where it would gather all the sunshine. 

silhouettes

Lurid, the lamenting sky
sepia sweeps her subterfuge
prominent in their absense, colours
evade my easel, anew
drenched in perpetual hues of you
spilling over the palette
I paint my own mirage
silhouettes in your resemblance
amidst the blinking bokeh,
an obscuring foliage,
and shadows
to fill the void.

Before the endless dive..

Crooked edges.
Shattered glass and spilled wine.
a twisted smile and a whispered taunt.
Ahh. Guess what?
I'm insane, and you divine.
precarious dreams and loosened pants.
like a snake in the grass.
Take your heart out for a walk
on a leash, lest it turns back.
Take your heart out for a ride
a ride to the farthest horizon.
(while there's still time.)
To myself, I am a danger. ooh.
and guess what I could do to you.

till death do us part

In the rain
of clouded thought
oozing doubt
unsustained distraught
A dance of past allegories,
Rusted dimensions, of truth
they cut deeper,
inch by inch
naked glass, on naked feet

The undergrowth reveals.

With harrowed pain
Blinds drawn
And second thoughts
that transcended the first,
this pavilion was built.
It was torn down
And rebuilt
a thousand times over
to accommodate the music
of mad fatal love,
and words that triumphed
over silence.

Over to tomorrow
when fate plays its cards
We have but one to play
till the curtain call.

We bled till we renewed
disagreed till we evolved.
Scars stay to remind
But in faith we are baptized
And we remain,
for the faith is in love
till death do us part.

The Brute's Visceral

Strangled songs,
sing-alongs,
muted gasps,
to tarry on... on and on.
Flows the river, motionless
a breath, an interlude
til his words resonate a roar
and shatters,
dead lips that echo
dead eyes that reflect..
shimmering beneath the surface.

Haunted, his labyrinth
of morbid cries and screams
crushed in his palm,
they disintegrate,
to tingling rhythmic shards.

Untouched, yet entwined
demonised from the inside
embellished, his earthly woes
stem from an arsenic womb

mercy sheathed an embryo
to shield the devil's child
a discourse, from an intercourse
outplayed her ringing sighs
rue,
she did leave a scar
in her son, cursed, demarcated
no rebuke spurned his need
to vengeance, evermore..

dancing to his call
still waters turn to unquiet
submerging lullabies
unsung through his strife

he surges over the undercurrent
wrath seeping through
borne, of powdered bone
strewn over the purview.

Delirium

The stars are fading
the light will yield
tonight we'll watch nocturnal blooms
and surrender a time or two..

Poetry whispers amidst the trees
wind wallowing the veneer
Silent moans, echoing wave
drowns the air beneath its qualm

The Unknown arrives
myriad voices unfold
The unseen transpires
carrying stories untold

it surrounds the fields
scents the air we breathe
it trembles at my fingertips.

In misty terrain it crawls unseen
until the sky reveals
fairytales spun from wanton light:
a deja vu of you and me.

slyly, over the hills and valleys
it circles the horizon of dreams
an edge closer to fall
and yet remembrance wont refrain.
Trembling leaves revoke it,
crumbling branches resound
and guides those visions away
you fade into the moonlight
this time, I know forever.

I stand beside me
and push me down the girth
as the light glows blue in sorrow.

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Warrior

Footsteps firm on barren sand
no guilty regrets, no sentiments to hide
Crimson drops liven the thirsty land
flowing free drained from the cut neckline

The shining sword in his bleeding hand
has won his battle it's bleeding as well
the metal that spilled the enemy's blood
is his weapon, his pride and his Holy Cross.

His wavering shadow and benumbed limbs
tell him the end isn't far.
but over mutilated torsoes and slashed heads
the Hero walks proud- never lost a war.
Knowing bravehearts dwell not beneath the soil
but high among the stars.

Dark clouds come and hide the scorching sun
Rain pours down, cleanses his skin and sword
the face glows pure, why, his deeds are done
Salvation; At last; the pain is no more.
Etched across his face the hero's final words shine
"I've lived the life worth dying for; I leave no legacy behind."
A bolt of Lightening strikes his Cross; sanctifies his soul
Dark Blood and the soil burns; sole testimony- his Sword.

. Aerial.

He was a boy who loved to dream

He dreamed of love and of being free.
One sunlit day when the grass was green
there he met his heroine.

She looked at him with a sensuous smile
and he just got lost in her eyes.
Leaving the rest to fate they ran
Together, into neverland.

The woods had never smelt so sweet
as then with her hands in his;
the undergrowth bloomed so cosy
as they merged soul and body.

his dreams turned to reality-
"I love you", whisphered she.
elated, he put his fears to rest
and fell asleep at her chest.

He opened his eyes and it was dark
he stared aghast at his empty arms.
he called for her on and on again
searched the woods in vain.
He raised his head and cried to the skies,
to watch the clouds divide
into the shadow of a pleading nymph
her face, her hair, her eyes
"I can't be yours; can't be free;
I'm Aerial, never destined to live."

her face filled with pain and light
faded without saying goodbye.

and the boy who had dreamed too much
felt his heart crumbling in the dark
his feet left the cliff and sank thru the air.
He had drowned in Aerial.

waves

A note resounds
from my fingerstrings
A small drop
stirring torrents in the soul
falling into a turbulent dream
a savage river wrenches open-
-cracks in the heart
the pain drowns!
In the new wave of elation
the soul is ablaze
passion, surging through the veins
agony taps its rhythm
in a wild dance of freedom
- six strings and sedated sleep.

a waterfall unleashed from the bass
KILLS me with primitive force
device becomes the master
enslaving artist in the current.
Swirling in its depth
i wait to drown in that distortion

somewhere above an angel smiled
before the tide swept over my psyche;
now here I am
washed over at your feet
panting from waves of delusion..

Rose

There’s a rose outside my window
so red, so red

glowing through the hazy glasspanes
so red, so red

drawn by pulsating blood in those petals
murky caterpillars are inching closer

the lights are out and there’s no moon
the rose still glows outside my window
so red, so red…

for miles the terrain is bathed in red
deep red, blood red

from the foot of my bed
to the worms outside
flows blood, my blood

the petals dried , the rose has died
deep red, putrid red

I’m so red, I’m dripping red
yet see my veins are throbbing blue

I see the cloak that death wears
It comes in a deep, drained blue
A red lined with a choking blue..

There’s the rose outside my window
So dead, so dead.