The sky was night-black when the last star was inked out.
The sky was night-black but the people remembered.
The sky is night-black but the warm dawn is arriving;
Keep the door open and the fire well-stoked.
star
I feel vincible
I feel vincible this morning
waves crash
my heart and breath come quicker
then I remember
or am reminded
that I am a tiger
a star in the night
whose light never dies
then I remember
that I am a tiger
every year more stars
every year more stars in the sky
every day though my eyes grow cloudy
remembering in the darkness
From the star the finger pointed
From the star the finger pointed.
Light or lightning leapt the chasm and new life sparked to heartbeat. Energy in the bellied seed became the sapling, the desert oak which stands upon red-sanded rock. Branches spread in shelter, night air now rests soft.
Journeys, arrivals, tables overturned.
And so the life of ever begins, a star, and finger pointing.
Night, waiting
pale moon, stars, chalk clouds
snow on the distant mountains
night waiting, or night, waiting
Net
The god cast a handful of seed silver-swirling across the night sky. And then they were the net of stars that catch our breath, our thoughts, our dreams, and leave us sleepless for wonder of the darkness beyond them.
Open air cinema in the wood
Open air cinema in the wood
this evening.
Tickets five euros
including free drink.
Bats cut across
key scenes in counterpoint.
Written in the stars
Nothing, but nothing, is written in the stars. Except the words I felt when you held my hand and the stars fell towards the sea.
When all the clocks
When all the clocks tick toxic
When all the stars are magic
When all the clouds disappear from above
There is only one thing it can be –
Dusted
I pulled stars down from the soft black sky and crushed them hard in my hands to a gold-white powder. A mixture then with caught rainwater, a fingertip of honey and a tear. Then a syringe and slammed into my veins.
