Infinite Sound Shapes

Shapes, shifting
Everlasting transformation

The words within, the words without
A sound
Combinations possible
Of impossible transmutations

In silence

Where to put this string of leaves,
Winding ’round a stem of hands,

Twice the length of moebious strips,
In fractal facetted phrases,
Engraved into blades of glass

Shattered, shapes
Shards of reality

Tuned into woodwind instruments
Uttering phatic sighs,
Weaving them into garlands
A coronation in double-helix strands
Entwining, out of ephemeral shells


To stretch out into midnight space


Don’t Fall in Love With Sadness.

Don’t fall in love with sadness,
don’t believe in the beauty
of this flavour of pain;

Don’t cling unto dark clouds
when a wind offers itself
to take them away;

Don’t reject the light,
though it takes time
to get used to its different sting;

Don’t fall in love with sadness,
but put it gently in its place,
bid it sit on the chair next to the door,
an unwelcome but transient guest.

Mistress Sadness

Sadness is a merciless mistress,
Returning season upon season,
Unlocking doors with stolen keys,
Picking them one by one,
Returning the favour
Of beating her into flight
She comes home again,
New whips to lash at barely healed scars,
Tearing open
The vaults you tried to seal
And she forces you to crawl inside,
To kneel on battered floor boards,
Leafing through torn books and pages,
To search for the word to banish her again
For yet another season.

Ocean Lullaby

Let me be the voice to guide you into sleep,
murmuring sea-waves into your ears,
shaping your hands into seashells
and filling them with pale pink pearls,
translucently shimmering spheres of quiet dreams;

Let me whisper you a bedtime story
until you fall asleep on soft black sand,
the finest grains from volcanoes long cooled and gone,
ground on ocean floors and spread out for you,
sand warmed by a day of mellow sun;

Let me lull you into nightly wonders,
humming you a tune of crabs and whales,
the gentle song of regal ocean keepers,
guiding you into their realm,
until you slip beneath the bobbing waves,
and all is slowing into gliding tides.

Tired Ravens

Tired ravens, searching for shelter,
The wind raging through trees,
Old roofs creaking mournfully,
Storms on days of leaving home,
Of words flying from coast to coast,
Unstoppable, harsh as cold sea spray,
Mercilessly beating thoughts into shreds,
Wings flustered against the current,
Braced against the tide,
And the ravens keep searching,
Moving further inland,
Away from the storm.

Love Letters to Night

Writing letters to the night,
Love letters rolling from my tongue,
A silent hymn of vowels and consonants,
Unarticulated, thought in abstract shape,
Neither taking place nor shape,
Secrets kept between teeth and the universe
Pen never picked up,
Paper never marked,
Candle unlit,
And envelopes unsealed,
Love letters to midnight,
Never written,
But heartfelt
By wishing for dreams,
For warm cocoons
Of images and comfort words,
Thoughts spun from silken thread
Gleaming in moonlight,
Holding the universe in place.