A Star

The closest ones are the furthest.

Yes, I talk about stars –

though I know nothing of astronomy 

or space science. 

Though I may not know it,

I may be the furthest away

from this Earth right now. 

Or I wish to be the furthest star from here,

because Earth is too lonely a place

and I’d much rather find real solitude,  

 

and seclude, myself.

 

The Journal

Collecting all the things that shine

in a journal that neither can be opened 

nor closed

The journal hangs its legs over the cliff of a shelf,

taunting, flaunting

her kingdom

Threatening to jump into the jagged spines of greed

below.

There she goes: wings limp and ugly and flailing 

The jagged spines of greed below ready to greet her

and claw out her torso

Their fangs bleed into her, soften the impact,

welcome her like a stain on a page.

Their breaths collide as they take turns to complete the welcoming.

She is haggard, empty and ugly –

She is betrayed, betrayed by her body

and sinful misuse of these words

and betrayed by the ones who touch her

and betrayed for the sacred sin that she is

for she betrayed the mirror that is the journal

and the journal shall not reach

the Gates of Heaven

as it cannot guard the secrets of the kingdom.

Midnight’s Garden

Racing under the Moon’s shadow

while owls whisper to the leaves,

and Midnight’s rabbits work work work


Nature’s garden weeps,

from time to time and time again:

whispering to her darlings

grow, grow, grow…


Then the magical beans prosper

and defend their mighty ground

where the rabbits and owls can lie peacefully.


You can hear Midnight’s garden

breathe.

Souls converging to one:

beat, beat, beat