i am called mother...

come thee to me...

 come thee to me
from the frigid forest holding you hostage
from the frozen tundra of lifeless images
from the cold dark chambers of your heart
the empty streets of your life
from the dark wasteland of lust long forgot
in the empty caverns of your loins

come thee to me
in the whispers of your thoughts
in the shadows of your soul
your fingers’ long lost touch
in the tasteless surface of your tongue
the aching rivers of your yearning
in the scorching heat now burning

come thee to me
take shelter from the storm
warmth from the cold
come thee to me
in thirst and in hunger
sip thy fill from the holy grail
eat from my sweet sweet fruit

moonbeams over glasgow...

blackest black night
penetrated by
sounds of steel spiraling
through the flesh
of old wounds never healed
under the cover of full metal jackets
                    

years of differences 

fester still

shades of hatred begetting
bloody canvasses of life in glasgow

velocity and energy and density
no longer marking the weather
now marking the storm of
death on wing

travel path and target
spelling bloody ballistics
random projectiles
of hate in flight

razors of yesteryear
slicing through layers of dysphoria

knives brandished with deadly intent
by children wandering the streets
of chaos and turmoil
their spirits no longer theirs
buried already in the graveyard
of discontent

bloodstains color the hard cracked
surface of their hearts

men in black leather jackets
grim reapers of silent violence

women and children fearful
of creaking floors and opening doors

longing yearning for
the warm sunlight
of what should be

seeking solace and safety
behind locks and chains

husbands keeping watch
with hard lumped metal filled pillows
giving way to sleepless nights
of signs and sounds

waiting for dawn
waiting for day
for another way
just one more day
praying for the other way
trying to make another way

the way of peace and love
the way of love and peace

with the warmth of
brother loving brother
melting the heartless
frigid winter of
despair and desperation
painting in vibrant
life-sustaining sunshine
the canvasses of
life in glasgow

where children frolic
on the playgrounds of
a better life

and mothers sleep
through the night
with their babes
cradled in the soft
arms of peace for all

and fathers and husbands
awake from sweet dreams
of serenity and stillness

the only sounds those
of golden moonbeams
falling gently over
life in glasgow

the deep...

my want of
you
lies deep
deep within
too deep
within
to let loose
the salty tears
leaving trails
of all my fears
stuck deep
within
too deep
within
 

my want of
you

~

would you like to hear these words spoken?

the wanderer.....

if i wandered into your dreams
slipped right through the crystalline seams

would you
come to me
lay with me
down on the shore of the mystic sea

would you
cling to me
sing to me
fly with me ‘til we're free

would you
whisper in my ear
kiss away my fear
keep only me with you near

come to me
come to me
don’t hesitate
only love awaits at my crimson gates
let’s come together and seal our fate

when i wander into your dreams
just slide inside my waiting wings

would you like to hear the words spoken?