Les Bulot
in my dream i am back at les bulot
cautiously trawling the fish soup
afraid of probing its depths and
finding myself hopelessly out of
my comfort zone wishing i had
opted for the sirloin steak
which you were now pushing
around your plate with the silver
cutlery making blood and cream and
the lissom pomme-frite mingle
sensually on the bone china plate
and now you are laughing at me
because i have found sand in
the bottom of the bowl and you
say that it shows it is authentic and
i push the bowl aside and sip the
wine and breathe in the salty air
and suddenly i am aware that this
is a dream and my heart breaks a
little inside as it does each time
i leave les bulot and return to
the stark fire i now inhabit alone.
Cineri Gloria Sera Est
The day that you left me
Things began to turn
The wallpaper bled butterflies
The taps all spat out treacle
Water turned to blood
The fridge door hung limp
Jagged fangs bursting from inside
Thirsty for my sweat
The cooker turned atomic
All flayed souls and napalm shadows
Hate filled nocturnes and placental arias
Spiders crawled from under the sofa
Burrowing beneath my skin
The photo album screamed
Each image drip dripping
Ink and sweat and tears
Years of memories pooling at my feet
Glistening reflections of life and love
Of childhood and death
ducunt in bonis dies suos et in puncto ad inferna descendun
Like the weightless passage of eternity
Stars bore down their weight upon me
Big bangs banged below
Hands formed light and love
Held the whip
Held the soul
Held the words
Heal with light
Galaxies poured from my silent scream
As I became one with the Queen of time
Oh Athena casts aside my enemies
Oh Eos gives me sweet incipience
Oh Hebe saves these withered hands
Lay with me now
On a bed of silken souls
And drink only from the fountain
Presbyter Johannes
Lead me past this life
Lead me past your arms
Bathe me in evermore
Let me make love
To everything
All the time
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