Bunhill Fields

William Blake said to me
(he was nearby)
blessings my son for you
are one of the many few
who have seen fair London
on its deepest brightest
longest darkest day
(his grey angel wings fluttering away)

what is it to see
the bloodied husk of death
waiting for his man
and the other
bright tide puller
phospherous above
batter seas four pylons?

my answer
to his raucous silence
is the mirrored reflection
of a tree in the ocean
surface of her
blonde pearl smile

PTSD

love like blood
goodbye
hello
it all turns blue
stripped
free from attachment
life or death
no compromise
only space between

i think it was more like fourteen
your path parallel
but not the same
we are one heart
but not the same
crying come back
tearing apart
like drowning
slipping from my grasp
one thousand years
of sadness in your smile
sweetness
we are remembering
our future
before it begins
we will be
great

how will it end this time
with fire?
with saltwater
marbling down our windows
made of waves
that generate out
past the island
that always looks the same
no matter
which aspect
we gaze upon

blood only blood
show me
let me feel
all the love
all the pain
all the birth
all the death
give me everything

i hope
the waters hold you
and the currents
are fair

how different
our bodies are
i must descend
to hold you
you must ascend
to kiss me
the crown of your head
smells of sunshine

the slap of release
timing
get up fast
stay low
stay fluid
and ride
the dynamics
in the direction
you want to go

i let go
i let go
and all my boyhood
dreams come true

since you went away
the blink
of your feathered eye
wings silently across
a night of swaying
and wet bluster
the white boats
swing around
their moor lines
and you,
you fly away