The neurons fire
In love tonight
The singing choir
relieves my fright
sleep with the Rose
submerge the sea
The bower knows
what’s inside me
She’ll come again
her song the wind
ears to the floor.
Don’t say a word.
Love’s almost born.
I know it wasn’t fair
to those who dance below:
Between our creaky stair
Descends our nightly ghost.
I’ve come to see my girl
Her sister plays alone.
Here in her deathly world
Her grievance sings her song.
What does she want from me?
A willingness to die?
Like Jesus on the tree,
A needle through the eye?
I sacrifice my bliss
For you my little sis.
In A Tree House
Will someday split you open
Even if your life is now a cage,
For a divine seed, the crown of destiny,
Is hidden and sown on an ancient fertile plain
You hold the title to.
Love will surely bust you wide open
Into an unfettered, blooming new galaxy
Even if your mind is now
A spoiled mule.
A life giving radiance will come,
The Friend’s gratuity will come –
O look again within yourself,
For I know you were once the elegant host
To all the marvels in creation.
From a sacred crevice in your body
A bow rises each night
And shoots your soul into God.
Behold the Beautiful Drunk Singing One
From the lunar vantage point of love.
He is conducting the affairs
Of the whole universe
While throwing wild parties
In a tree house – on a limb
In your heart.
This first one is in iambic tetrameter with the structure of an English Sonnet:
I lost you to Arabian nights:
©2013 Stephen K. Pickering
The god Apollo’s basketball.
You had that day Queen Isis eyes..
Unfolding reddened fall leaves song.
It does mean something here in snow.
The Mārga flames the Firebird’s beak.
Somehow it made me let you go,
So silent beings now can speak.
I reach across the earth for you.
Across the universe I fly.
You’re under spellbound mountain dew.
Asleep by mirrors’ watchful eye.
Then something shakes the arch’s gate.
The colors open again Finn’s wake.
This second one is a straight English Sonnet, having the structure and the 5 iambic feet per line, iambic pentameter:
It’s thought itself that’s separating us.
©2013 Stephen K. Pickering
My little molecules are calling you.
So Jesus told the mountain, “Part to dust!”
And said let go, that you could do it too.
Transparent eyes that cover Western skies.
I hook the trailer hilt that pulls the sun.
I search for you each night on moonlight drives:
Some feeling in the heart that you’re the one.
You pulled me out of the beach’s seahorse sand.
And ponied up the soul for Daphne’s bed.
With wildest sleep we wake this magic land
Sing witches stirring lives from worlds we’ve banned.
The tea room veils the river’s bride in frost.
All calling for the princess who’s been lost.
One thing I do remember is the dance.
Your river hair was flowing the magic nights.
Steps guided by the heart’s inner lance.
Our motion flew above the city lights.
Remember fall among the yellow leaves?
Our eyes reflected colors of the soul.
Before we even knew we had the keys,
Our fountain’s dream we danced around could flow.
I wonder what you thought about our song?
It echoes still, they say, that empty hall.
It tries to resurrect what seems long gone
A memory my heart will always call.
I sometimes think when walking down this street,
I’ll turn and somehow there again we’ll meet.
Cross of Lorraine
I wanted down the cotton pine below.
It seemed the dream was calling from their root.
I had escaped the cocktail party show:
The empty voices blocking nature’s tune.
The recent summons in the field of time:
Our river’s bridge was rotting but still there.
Perhaps it was just merely warmth from wine,
I melted down that rickety old stair.
I wondered would your eyes still have that glow
If I could somehow reach across our lives;
And swim the river down our muddy soul
Where love forever dances in the night?
Our little eyes that swim the river’s floor:
Their secret depths open new love’s door.
© 2013 Stephen Pickering
I swim the river wide
Hoping to find you inside
This new life.