In Poesy I Bathe

On-going series of poetic text of my own words and a collage of intriguing and inspiring quotes from various sources.


[I felt lifted into a dream of honey sunsets] 
The wind courses through your inner being 
as you bathe in honeycomb music.
ooze, ooze, ooze        
peachy nice and easy 
take the time to fill it 
with liquid confidence
deepening in colour as time goes by, 
you must remember this.
Look, there passes the winged oranges 
on their daily dance 
grab a cup full of zesty zen 
before they move on.
dance through the soothing fields 
of butter hour
see the hot spring of yonder up ahead, 
bubbling with sweet delight
caves breathe with deepening endeavours, 
don’t you know
feel their reassuring pulses 
as you sink your toes 
into the golden carpet
fuzzy inclinations offer you 
a segment of basorexia.
Inhale the boldness of today
look around you
notice the particles of cashmere 
singing in their choir
can you feel the blessed ruby air 
surrounding your body 
as you glide amongst the velvet waves?
notice in the corner there, 
the honey scented ointment 
lets out a sparkling melody of ease
open up your mind 
to magnetically embrace 
the warmth of the sandy vision 
bellow your feet, revealing 
ancient, amalgamations 
of trickling amber.
A day passing of 
butter and patter, 
trickle and sickle
spread a little marmalade 
and dip your toes 
in the pool of melted contentment
as your body is resting, 
feel this liquid sunlight 
enlarging, grounding itself, 
reaching deep below the surface.
[Retrograde from Amuse Bouche: I Hear Raspberries]
Retrograde, retrospective motion notion
Watch planets for any length of time 
and, far from moving in any simple way, 
they lurch around like drunken bees, 
waltzing and whirling
And when it leaves us, 
the possibility of accepting what we have
- and who we are- 
seems entirely improbable
Play as time goes by, 
I’ll hum it for you with a zing
As two planets pass, or kiss, 
each appears to the other 
to retrogress 
or go backwards against the stars
But then, back it creeps 
in the silent flush of an early morning
Your hands are cold behaving like a shy cat
I felt dropped into a field 
of enchanted clover 
that made me immune to everything
Confidence has always dazzled,
but what I felt was magnetic 
and so big it ached like the moon 
had entered my chest and filled it up
A sign in the sky, or a vision, 
in a dream 
that lent boldness to your endeavours 
Aideu, there are octaves out there
Spread a little marmalade 
and dip your toes 
in the pool of liquid contentment
Now, an observer living on either moon 
would experience the notions of taste in space 
I’m a person 
who delights in sentimental things
But I don’t take notice, 
I lie in the grass 
and bathe in the freedom
Sitting somewhere 
between head and heart, 
man (pronounced mun) 
is a visceral yearning 
backed up by 
the recognition that 
what we desire reflects our innermost self
Every pair of planets 
creates a single dance
Still dizzy 
from the oceanic gladness 
that surrounded her
Experienced around obscure words 
and incomplete lists
I wanted to let go 
of my feelings for a while 
and pull in my moat bridge
The Golden Ratio 
is found throughout organic life forms; 
as the other part of me danced with the bees
[Myself in Poesy- Opehelia & The Naiads]

Some enchanted evening 
and so she ever fed it 
with thin tears 
whence thick and green 
and beautiful it grew 
I couldn’t sleep last night 
strangers in the seems 
to turn your head around fever

In the absence of security 
I escape into the night 
but why 
the loose threads of turmoil 
unravel into the stream 
where Ophelia is waiting 
with the naiads to take 
my sanity and pull me towards 
you look wonderful tonight 
and place me flat amongst 
the chord coral why do I look

I get along without very well 
it is cruel said she 
chuckle in the strings 
to steal my basil pot away from me 
you can’t if you don’t let them 
and so she pined

I’m feeling mighty lonesome 
I haven’t slept a wink 
while like held breath the stars 
drew in their panting fires 
why should she tend her oven 
I’m nobody’s little weasel 

Into the mystic I sail 
and my whole world turns 
misty blue confusion 
what’s real I ask you?