When I am afraid
To even know my knowings
Or hold them up to shine
A terrored future
Wordless yet unsilent
Is only ever mine.

I pile myself in coils
Each found upon itself
Placing with-out within

Every day
A dream runs through
Like a river
Cold enough to steal my breath
And waken shivers

I hope
This windowed corner
In the room
I inhabit, holds space enough
For waiting soon.

Such a privilege
To hold anything
Long enough to dream

Every Man's Home

With enough bricks
Piled neatly around
Determined in place
Unshakeable
Unbreakable
Untameable
Holding up the sky
And back the tide
And away the night

If every moment
Is sterilised, border-checked
Quarantined
It's Fine
It's Under Control.
It's Handled

Every heavy second holding
Every brick in place
Only then there is space
For

Me

At times I confess

Your eternity
Stretches too far from me

... and dance upon the breath of the world

Growing old
Is watching the world you inhabit
Slowly be forgotten

To strive
And so to shake
The universe
Myself
Apart

It's no Biggie. Just Waking up.

Mine are the dinosaur dreams
Flush with impending skies
I pour myself into the mattress
To pop and crackle through the night.
Finally scooped, soft and unpalatable
When tomorrow finally opens the spoon drawer
The crispness of horizontal musings
Is mush in my stomach.
I place myself against the earth
And push

It wasn't in the eddies of the hour 

Or in the chair that shook the floor

Or through the heart that carries my insides around

But in the intentions of the moment

That I first caught your smile

Without crushing its wings.

I find that money carries you

Amongst the stones and stars

Forever 

In every direction

On Confrontations of Magnitude

Brief are the bridges

Fording our between

We tip-toe in and out of realising

Like the trolls beneath

Have ears for hearts

And fear never really carries you outside the door

Tall are the mountains

I've seen your good side

Where the rain keeps you evergreen

But what lies beneath

Have you heard?

I'm not myself anymore

Long are the hours

Between each setting sun

To pay the paper payment brings

Someday the bank will let me go

I'll find you just behind your eyes

Like old times

And I'll tell you things I didn't know

Different like it was before

Oh for the unknown feet
Fresh, unshoed callous-free
Soft to see
The puttied earth asqueeze
Between a hand of toes

Would then walking be
Full with feels and grass-roots sights
And run so feather-light
As to fly one leg at a time?

Would the virgin thorn
Or unwashed bottle chip
Cut so deep I'd forget to clot
Softly naked
But not fleeing from
The Man who walks the evening.