Our Fractured Sonnets
I smile at the cold December wind.
This Thursday I have faithful strength anew.
I bravely try to learn and understand,
The damp unweaving floor is turning blue.
The day joins the night every time
The meadows look like wooden planks and decking,
The breath of bats smells like lemon and lime,
The philanthropists find the stillness unsettling.
Naked, own the strangeness of your life;
Your smile of sepia sets you all alone.
Mine is the beautiful sharpness of the knife;
The fulmars are unjoining as they groan.
Your trembling shivering hands are two of a kind,
But your face is a thing that has a pensive mind.
His glittering smiles of diamonds and of stars;
Ghosts haunt the room beneath my creaking bed.
In the cottage with my T-shirt and guitars,
Is it rude to keep on smiling at the dead?
When all around is wrong I sweat in rivers,
But now the wind of change could make it right.
Alive, the phantasmagoria shivers
And they, so sweet, will sleep with me tonight.
I see your eyes are heavy in the sky;
Weary faces brushed among the crowd.
While angels rush to help me as they fly,
They scatter beneath my hopes and dreams so proud
That can be found right here upon the edge
And lean against the gust of my real pledge.
The candle flickered pale as falling snow.
As she wound a cone of unwashed winter wool,
She dreamt of him more like a robin than a crow
Bright against the ceiling-paper like a jewel.
She pushed her silken hair across her face
To reveal the tear that has covered her cheek.
The streets are still and empty in this place;
Before she met him all was lean and bleak
But then joy thronged throughout their springtime years.
The kind of love that never is alone
Can amend her stony tears and hidden fears,
So this goddess waits, her love no longer known.
Her red lips whisper, clawing back the past,
But will these lips have cause to laugh at last?
The sparrow flickers quickly in its flight,
Catching the smile of the newly risen sun.
How it soars so blissfully to unimagined heights;
Beneath the rudely tuned leaves it’s lost and gone.
The humble thrush seemed to gaze with wonder;
The only bird that sleeps is a peaceful owl –
But if the dark clouds come throwing thunder
And if we hear the shabby wolves’ low growl,
The black night sky will make our flesh shiver.
The night slips by and now a peppermint dawn
Sophisticates the ballooning still river
That wanders like a snake in early morn.
The golden leaves keep moving in the breeze
But should we fear the grey and yellow bees?
My heart holds many shades of darkest fears,
The blackest side, a downpour in my soul
Like raw water pumping through the years.
My eye lids close: in my heart there’s a hole.
My ears are bruised with the harsh sound of peace;
A guttural stench converses with my mind.
My mind it channels red thoughts that increase;
A black bird flutters with the thoughts I find.
I view my burdens far more lightly now
Everyone sees me with a glass of sparkling wine.
Are you afraid to take the joyful vow?
Have you found time to join me now I’m fine:
Our moods pulled out from unmuscular thoughts,
Whispering to immortal dreams of sorts?