finally I know what faith is

in the garden of our memories
the breeze sings
the waves roar, and the sandstorm hits
but we are safe, we are warm and
we are so happy
under this rich sandy comforter,
where the only thing to get us is
each other.

in the garden of our memories
the breeze stomps
the trees sway, going to your
Victorian home and back
and home and back,
clasping at hands and at straws
feeling the ecstasy of each
moment together.

through this sadness
through all this pain
I reach for your love and
finally I know what faith is.

london rain

the rain makes me angry
and the sun numb.

my one relief: the bus ride home:

where everything has been done
and where you are waiting.

endlessly internalising escape.

sheets

sheets posted off to waste,notes
that will see no more sound.
they call to me, a cherished regret,

part of a passage of raptured loss.

left in an airport lounge, I long for them,
furiously read with a child's simple blessing.
golden stars, pencil marks and potent aspiration.

I then see our sunset house, so crystal-clear,
the only other image (than yours) just google maps.
the roses reach out, the grass grows long,

I nurture the sounds of new memory.

I sat on that stool and mimicked odysseys,
appreciating my unfaltering listener, my sage.
I built upon a case of joy but with strings

tightened and bound like sincerity.

but then we had to reach out, dropping our
fortunes (and the sheet music) for unknown ventures.
we purged the old lines, urging with

unexpected grace notes towards a cathartic major chord.

singing in the street

we went for
singing in

the street.

a rising up of
spontaneity
and the

innocence of the evening

caused by a pursuit
of poetry.

two laps of
16th and mission,

did nothing for
our quest,
and everything for,

togetherness.

all the while,
the winds calmed
to an amplified

sway,

as we continued our
browsing and arousing

on valencian streets,
past clothing, fittings
and musical

outpour.

you improvised lines
and, i, wondered at

the night.

until the bookstore,
where,

sitting on the red floor,

we stared caffeine dazzled
and love

dazed.

sitting in a perfect
frame

between
keats, wordsworth and

yeats.

we sang the
innocence

and daunting

beauty,

of it all.

Valentine's Day Poem

In August
I fell so Deeply
Richly
Soulfully
For you.

My
Unspoken feeling
Flooded
My Inner being,
To the point

Where the spark
Engulfed the main
Almost
Blazing
Too bright

And a strength
previously
Unimaginable
Lovingly
portraying

A lunatic
Lost in your
Purity
your Luminous
Inner beauty

To show a Completeness
(that can never happen),
a Construction
Moving,
Progressing.

You know that a thousand
miniature moments
beats a single
gesture

(we are much more than amateur)

Although the Fragileness
Founded with
Potency
Of mind And body
Is pounding.


Still.

you have a lot

you have a lot
more
of my soul
than
either one of us
ever
intended you to have.

Yoga

I meditate

think of you

There with me

We hold hands

whilst doing

Corps...e pose.

an august love

An august love
Is as fleeting here
As the break
Between the fog.

I wish I could hold
Onto this for longer,
But reality brings,
brings me back...

I wish I could read
These to you (with
My best poet-
orator voice)

I sincerely wish
I hadn’t fallen deep,
Heavy, longingly,
In love with you

Throughout the month.
So that when September
Raises its ugly head
With memories

Of the dead, of return
And a heavy toil,
I wouldn’t feel this
Deep, heavy, longing,

Despair.

Orange

Something is very orange in the way I think about you

I can’t place my eyes on exactly why or what

But it is definitely so so deep,

Organic, sinuous and warm, so natural to me.


Orange.

It came to me, this severe orangeness,

Bright like the brightest thing I have seen in this, my favourite city,

And hopeful, simply and hopeless, just the same as the

Amber light. No stop and also no go.


Orange.

So juicy and ripe and fresh,

A citrus sting, that tingles and tantalizes,

And leaves me wanting another bite

Not a small bite, and not a big one either.


Orange.

I long to peel back all the layers

And examine your insides, to learn

Nothing and also everything,

I want to smell you acutely.


You are oh so
Orange.