Let it never be forgot

Queen/David Bowie: Under Pressure Remix

I saw him

Arthur

The inner cry

In his glen

Frustrated

Infuriated

By what was

What could have been

Hands bloody

Hands raw

Wrinkled brow desperate

To pierce

The exterior

As

Silver Mail

Bled red

Frustrated hands

Cry for redemption

Yet

The stone refused the sword

Belligerent

As stubborn as he

Refused to yield

While memory

The great deceiver

Ate his mind

The tendril touch

Inner thigh

The radiated heat

The supine sigh

Lost

Lost

Memory blocked

Perhaps the truth

Was more than sought

If only

Seeds had not been wrought

In taking root

Stoic stare

Stood strong

Against

The bare fissure

Forever closed

Yet beckoning

Passioned heat

Eternal flame

The trace

Of the cry

For a blood

Forever flowing

Through the gulag garden of eden

That could not bear the weight

Of something so simple

So straight

Cast out

Jack-a-bout

While truth brutalized

Beaten

Cracked and scorn

But never feel alone

For the sword

Refused the stone

Let it never be forgot

There is a place called Camelot

The scales dropped

 Fatboy Slim: Push the tempo

The scales dropped

Slowly

Fiction

The ability

To see the truth

Reality obscures

Reality

Grim presentations

Of desperate babies

Suckling at the teat

Of an Iron Mother

Placebo nourishment

To keep weak

Yet he grew

Into a man

Who could only write

To the woman he loves

But never touch

Yet he would always love…

Never

With bright eyes

She gave life

So he would know death

She gave the asphyxia

So he would know breath

However

Possessing eyes grown dull

Did she love

Or afraid to loose

Who can say?

Fiction

The ability

To see the truth

Reality obscures

The scales dropped

Slowly

Corner Table, Guiness Stout

Sting: Desert Rose

Corner table
Guinness Stout

Half filled pint
For twenty minutes
It stayed half-filled

Half-filled

Cigarettes slow burn
Slowly birthed
An atmosphere of haze

Lost in the smoke
Patrons movements hidden
But for him
The obvious was clear

He wasn’t there to drink
He wasn’t there to think
Talk
Walk
Count captured coup

He was there for her

For in the stillness
The journey began
His mind’s eye

That was when
That was where
He saw her

Persephone
 

In an ashen twilightCreated by the
Nether-neither-ether-land
Of diminutive streetlights
Barking electric illumination

Body finely fashioned
Bearing grace floated
With the legs of a gazelle
As hair danced at
The gentle touching breeze

That is when she saw him
Rugged frame
Muscular arms
Piercing eyes

Beyond piercing

Her eyes
Beckoning
Simmering a silent
Seducetive plea

Unavoidable
With each degree
Of continued press
Draw inescapable

Souls
That had for too long been

Deprived
Of
Divorced
One
Depraved
From
Devoid
The
Denied
Other

Of
One
From
The
Other

The two
Could no longer hide
Behind an uneasy truce
Binding a condemning truth
Though no crime committed

The cost had been too high

A fact self-evident
With the contact of eyes

The obvious was true

The cost had been too high

A source
Seething underfoot
Drew
Inescapable
Unavoidable
 In gravity primal
A pull absolute

A moment
Eternity frozen by
Blistering heat
Purified by the
Pleasure of a million lives lived
Or the
Pain of a million passing
Mixed
Condensed
Melded
Effortlessly
In an intoxicating incineration
Drawn effortlessly from
The essence of the other

Epics shone
So ferocious
The sun was shamed
Passion so Righteous
The aria of angles
Was muted

Eyes closed to no more than slits
Bearing merely a silent lost tear

This was the only form of communication
To the outside world

An outside world
That no longer mattered

No longer

Mattered
In the mist

“Anything else?”
Questioned a willowy waitress
“No, I’m fine”
Said he

Corner table
Guinness Stout

The Press

Touch and go: Tango in Harlem remix

In darkened halls

Slight movements

Commence

The press, and caress

of his words

Burning smooth, smoldered hot

Caring tension of the potential energy

Waiting for release

Waiting

Like her

Soft smooth seductive smile

Slips desire unspoken

As hidden truth slides, and bides

Carrying of the potential energy

Waiting for release

Waiting

Tension trapped

In body faultless

Form design

Though she would never admit

He would always remind

With words heavy

Carrying tension of the potential energy

Waiting for release

Waiting

All the while beauty sits

Brazen

Lips full,

Lips ripe

Draw to trace

Cross cushioned cheek

To the prize of eyes

That mirror reflections

Tender song, of her soul

Under the weight

Carrying tension of the potential energy

Waiting for release

Waiting

For

Release

Have you ever noticed?

Music Sting's Winter night

Staring at horizon

“Have you noticed how the light of the stars traveled thousands of years, piercing the darkness, only to be seen by us tonight?” said he
“Have you noticed how the night gently caressed the light as it passed with a loving trace?” said she

Smiling stare sustained

“Have you noticed how the sea stops the fall of the sky?” said she
“Have you noticed how the sky comforts, protects, and shields the sea?” said he

Smiling stare sustained

“Well, have you noticed how the sand halts the chaos swelling in the sea?” said he
“Hmmm, have you noticed how the sea is embraced and absorbed by the touch of the sand?” said she

Smiling stare sustained

“Have you noticed how shifting sand supports us?” said she
“Yet, have you noticed with its slight sink, it longs to envelop us?” said he

Smiling stare sustained

Yet

He turned to look at her
“Have you ever noticed left?” said he

Smiling stare sustained
Yet
She turned
to look
at him
“Have you ever noticed right?” said she
Smiling

With little more
Than this touch of sight
And a slight trace of cheek
She loved him and he loved her
Have you ever noticed?

Have you ever noticed?
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