The Ridge

grinding my lips onto yours
with ocean scented mist
your shallow breaths are laden
urging the waves to come
tide hunger for the shore

Ah!

Ah!
You are the long black coffee I so savoured in the morning.

Ah!
You are the masterpiece for my artistic appetite.

Ah!
You are the calamine lotion for my mosquito bites.

Ah!
You are the cool breeaze before a storm on a scorching summer day.

Ah!
You are the mindfulness meditation for my anxiety.

Ah!
You are the healing music to my wayward soul.

Food for thought

I have learned that nectar is food for
bees, hummingbirds and butterflies
they are attracted to
the colours of the outer appearance
and the scent it gives out
they all show affection
however
only bees are reliant on it
hummingbirds and butterflies
are open to other attractions

Sandalwood comb

there are days
my hair is overly stimulated
by the human static
meshing into a bird’s nest
wild birds moping around
needle hay prickles

it is for times like this
I need you
my sandalwood comb
to untangle me from
this painful annoyance
relaxing me
restoring my clarity

Curiosity

what if the earth is not flat

what if Vulcan does not exist

what if blank slate theory is wrong

what if the schizophrenics are just
another human species

Broken Vow

You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the great and first commandment.
And the second is like it: You shall love your neighbour as yourself.

She took him to be her husband
to have and to hold from that day forward
for better
for worse
for richer
for poorer
in sickness and in health
to love and to cherish
till death do them apart
according to God’s holy law
and that was her solemn vow

when he stopped loving Him, himself and her
it is broken
for him
and
for her

Aloof

love in a distance
through the glass door
remaining clinical view
sober mind detaches
from the pain
it is safer that way

Apnoea

your face takes up all the space in my brain

my brain fogets to tell my muscles to breathe

deprivation of oxygen stalls my heart

my heartache finally stops

at the worship of your portrait

Intricacy

I am fascinated by the music box mechanism
behind the graceful spinning ballerina
is the precision joining forces of fragments
set of pins on a revolving cylinder
plucking the steel comb lamellae

I imagine
the care and maintenance of such
an original piece
requires the patience and skills of
an artisan watchmaker

I am in awe of
the complex and detailed effort
to make real of
a simple gasp of amazement

I come to the realisation
whenever a praise of beauty is heard
a life long devotion is behind it all