slopes of sea and steep dew

death day

gloom becomes




dusk warblers

salute the passing

of shapes, perished


this soluble day

the inch of

edges buries

all, chlorophyll

whisperers, root to anchor

silhouette traders

unwrap cinders,

charcoal nocturne's

it's gazers

sea slowed muffled,

daylight shrugs off

from boughs, an

entirety of sleep wades

thru' the shadow molested grasses

inked air

deepness to

every thorough


stars, pinched irises

of chrome, widen,

a sleek glove of knives

patrols thru'

wind whipped, convulsed fingers

the plough is left

for dew to rest and

steeples repeat

their vanish

a raven's wing

across the land

where the scarce

pheasants scarper

a ghosting month

this lane

arched with rust,

silent wrists

shuffle the sun

of melted beams

scarce few lit

the footsteps

i meant

moth stale

memories leaf there

thru' the bronze

broken corpses

in hadean velvet

the cotton sheath

daylight imposes

by lit stealth inches,

window's mirror it's

hinge opening beams

i'll not let dusk perish

but keep it where the pillows

exert there mallow defences,

you'll not secure me into percussive

waking,  i am where pikes are

in the shale greasy depths

where defiant shrimp fold

themselves, where assassins

ink themselves with scented quiet,

the perforated horizon

i keep it dark

buried up to the black lid

tho' arches ignite gold and

curious coloured air sparkles

my musicians of the hedges

chirrup, trace and blow

their constellations

of predator notes

soon darkness is quite rid

and the cobweb latches part

from their jewel thatch,

bland boughs wake with

oh so furious a song

songs from all beaks

but the reverse of slumber i

invert metres, lord

over ashes and long

draped silhouettes where

the moon is quarter sent

a charcoal sky horizon met

tho' the sunlit roam is fierce and

discovers quiet floating dust

no purpose for such slow somersaulting

aftermaths, like miniature planets

striding above the sleep defended bed

i am moaned at by traffic

by peopled pavements, alarmed at

by sill populated chaffinches,

bring the meniscus over, deeper, lonelier

gone with loams and the vocals of worms

make mute

make deaf,


the outside

with sea in mind

edges are for sucking

smoothed out throating

a continuous sea of aquamarine creases

an estuary in song, music in glisten

jet hair thru'  blue rainbow's pulled at

rock pools gather childhood nets

heron's in stood stance where the cormorant's appear

like dropped rags or ink soaked cloth

the mackerel fleet is here for the winds to suck at

to grimace thru' the empty eyed cabins, rust is a worthy

suitor to those bones of forgotten fishes, jostling

almost aching in the tide's suffering moan

atoms of wanton rushing called back to the sea's

pale winter blood where all river's go to

thin cruel gulls strut the broken decks, if listened to

a bell is drowning it's echo, it's fisherman's guts

takes him to where, to where

chased hares by a

hawk's shadow,

knowing nowhere

he follows

where the soil's musicians hum

takes him to where the raced winds


thin cries, a sombre calling, grey curlews

perform the sighs of each other,

traces where the dew retreats

weed kingdoms

where so many a rust victim

tries to outlast the

hungry elements

glimpse on by, where the deep

silt swollen pond bulges with

dragonfly suitors


succumb to the eyed killers there

suitably corpse dressed

to where the silence is inked most

cemetery slumber, old ashes and stooped

over by grumbling oaks and shrill spruce

skitter squirrels acorn envious of any

sphere watch with quick and faster

eyes him against ivy thick wrists

solemn now, but then where he first

kissed and met with soaring to

it's summer fullest

but no shadow can be traced long, and deep

findings appear mayfly disappearances

and the heart's song is forgotten

sullen there a toad in strangled herbs

no one wants to pick thinking too much water is

bad for drowning

so the wind picks thru' the tombstone teeth

and whispers to the morose grasses that

shrug always greyness

he follows where the sky takes him

the dusk wanderer

sheets of incoming ashes

a thickened darkness,

shrugs the curtains to

whispering against glass

like the blot from a trillion

black fly or a smudge from

starlings swarming obliterates

the sunlight

a phantom breath

considers the cemetery

gates that sing like an ache

when swung

wanderer come thru' the

sinister cinder roots, kingdom

of unseeing follow, sky rook to

wing to crow take the light and


thru' the rotten thumbs that toil

across the dead. a broken beetle

exhibits night, grasses subdue

upon crooked digits

voices put to quiet

wanders the glass silent pond

no white swan wields it's

gliding snow, the rushes

stiff as stood exclamations

roams under the mouth given

arch where lovers stole one another's

gifts, bat fumbled song where the

bridge is at it's deepest

come thru' the coal wrapped ferns

no moonlit interruption,

bandage each sound as it tries

to stir to begin it's new throat

muffled roaming to the dreamed

against windows, horizontal children

rooted to fierce pulling under

scary blunt wrists

goes to where the horizon is dimly

brightest, murders the last

scowling beam, surveys

mankind's intimate slumber, and wanders

to put the stars out

an archive echo

there is


thru' the window

where the snowflakes

melt against, tears sliding

down panes

maelstroms here

shrugged violets

in perforated memories

lets the skies leak in

a person so borrowed

by rain

archives of deep

deep blossoms

a scented throe

where the gaze

goes under

yesterday to drown


i am crow


my every shade

latched to

a crow's stare

jewelled bleak black

sullen carved gazing

follows everywhere

beneath the bough held

moon, this silent sleep

doesn’t obscure intruding

and the waltz of flies

deliberate ink theatres

for the butcher bats to dine

creased calls scared of

owl listeners or slunk foxes,

foxgloves look silhouette spears

by the stream, by the stream

my fingers ease into the coal

coloured water

i am crow


my every dream edge

crowed over

by a share of shadow

where i find no one

there where the roots

secure their nourished

dwelling and

the marram grasses billow

like blown shirts

you my vague fellow in

auburn boots

shrug into the weeds

waiting for dusk

to covet

to the sea to the blue draped

flatline sea where gulls pursue

the somethingness of clouds

and the slow slow waves


i found you once your eyes

looked like mine but twas

full of autumn and hard to

bare when gazed into,

a loneliness burden

there rains often tho'

the summer gape is unbroken

and the ivy whispers up struggles

and the rock rose parched

no honey bee has thirst to visit

the door has a sad mouth and often

has an outline of a man with

too many silences, i think i might

have met him once where the

rock pool crabs wince

his reflection, a water mirror copy

much like me, i resemble the stare

that falls onto where the anemone

appears absurd hair, the glass

will not keep it's ink

where the adder sunlight wastes

and the few thistles shake like

rattled fists, flotsam wood

shaped like a mermaid

waits returning

and where i stood grimaces of

sky seem to reach, appearing

like soot pages, wind shaping,

the anchor of my longing

won’t set

often i have looked but silence

is a well roamed place and

wants patronage, worse still

to stay, to ferment, to


and the narrative comes off

unfurling waves, there could be

voices amongst azure rolling

then into white foams breaking

there is a foe, it follows and copies

and wanders my footprints,

it’s not where i wanted

where has my charcoal coated

fellah gone?

i’ve become that minute of being gone

those roots have

perished, no anchor

to keep me secure

to rust distant days

i've entangled myself

in the brambles of

others i've no footsteps

of my own

shadow does make me,

clocks they sculpt me

further in opaqueness,

stood against immense atoms

i'm disappearing now down

rotted lanes, i see the charcoal

wraith horizon nearer now

much vaguely clearer now

the surrender of my incomplete

song, the music that nourished

cells and seeps into calcium

made cities

a retreating tide where the stars

used to paint the waves,

takes the silences from me

like a cold autumn snares late blooming

sullen message

steep birds

chase sunbeams

they creak over

moth coloured hills

offering shrill

nuisances to the few flies

incoming horizon of

spreading deep black burgundy scarves

purple alliances are


beneath where the

silences are woken from stealth

no fern will uncurl

their underneath stupor

when will the swoon of

such songs begin the

landscape's blush?

to ripen the muscle’s movement?

gone birds

and the air is vanished,

not one echo for

the hills to be crouched over

where is today but autumn?

the seasons seem to

snare themselves for

me to notice but such

calendars are



a secret silence so


unbearable waking

days lean into one

another, vague sleeps

are so thin that i seem


pursuing vanished

constellations, chasing

a silhouette i used to


but the sun is down in

it's charcoal depth too

pale now to bother,

too many slumbersome

hours to fill

still as a tree mid autumn

cold as a bee frost shaped,

stood in the rust filled


watching wither as it

happens, a slow conjure

of dying, corpses shrug

under ideal leaf lids

going thru’ silence

i am thru' the brambles

thru' torn reaching

there are fingers wanting

to pull under soil

pale horizon

exert your anaemic

sunrise, like a fountain

of spring infected flowers

all of them bleached

blunt breezes knock against

a thousand cripples all of them

leaf taken, stood for the grey

recurring sky to abandon

the phantom few shrubs

scant drops to attend thirsts

pale horizon

where i am threaded by

white amethysts

i stroll the carved shore

where the waters whiten further

a grey suck over greyer

shingle, colour is taken from everything

the tide refuses stillness

then muscles were sung to

an enticing dew

and there could be no

pause no stoppage

up with the buds

protein surf

a similar song of

smudged silence

about to hinge open

about to uncurl

spring maddening trumpets

blind blushes exert intimate

roots, intimate digits, sap has

a swollen river to get rid of

comes with the moaned grasses

with the strewn bedclothes glittered

where sighs tremor and repeating

underlining indigo, mauves and blue

like a startled shoulder stood upon

by voltage, a thunderous voltage

rapt in certain shudder a

liquid shiver ensues

and ensures shimmer


i dream of him


under eyelids

i perfect him


enter me, enter me

like a frost

like a strong root

interrogates the soil

i feel buried in

my most glistened to

reassurance you'll come again

like spring, autumn ought

to rewind, and the footsteps

i want to be yours

is absolute quiet

return to the

stale woods

where kisses

are moss and

fingerprints rots

that stars have witnessed

thru’ sparse or bare bough

the wander of loneliness

it usurps the sad left over

songs of gone birds

quiet gazing

oh so quiet my gaze is,

wishes dreamt of are ditches

for their corpses to dwindle

there was rain once, much

like a sea, now not a drop

not an inch of dew

whisperer why won't

words appear? no page

wants interfering, ink is broke

soft burnished horizons a blush

of incendiary bronzes, trees

are given to dusk here

a steel sharp heron glides onto

liquid glass, there is a sigh

amongst the charcoal high grasses

wrap around me night of subdued

fingerprints, subtle seeps of

autumnal promise

oh so quiet my gaze is

where the windows have

withered the view


thru' out sleeps

entirety this empire

of opaque fallen

spires, keepsakes, melodic

fantasy, a silhouette

leans against the abrupt

purple hills where pale

sunbeams stray to linger

by the wild rose scented

hedges, near the rust

compliant gate you

stand as if waiting for

another spring to come,

tend to my gaze, bring

jewelled covered sighs

to my nectar beginning

thru' out the day's dusk

i'm borrowed not living,

but by moonlit bough i

am under and shrill with

ether, when your cotton

white body moans against

mine like an opal existing

tide rushes

soak the dry bushes, wet thru’

yearned synapses, about us

is thunder, a roar’s maelstrom of

breathed out petals and static

surprises, come invigorate the

crimsons planets of my blood

i'll suit the weather you give me

swallow me anyway

when waking intrudes slumber

kissed fissures i'll still be stood by

the rust whispering gate, waiting,

waiting for spring's blossom to come

like a keen wild shouting wind, when

shall your silhouetted presence

ink the bed with me dowsed

in your gather?

crow following

leant into the steep wind

curdled deep black coats

chacking as their shadows

take them wherever their

charcoal wings go

up to the tall sculptured

clouds where thunder hides

itself, thru’ the kept rain

down to the moaned

boughs all creaking gropes

where the crippled orchard

stoops it's rotten wares, a

murdered woman had lain

there for hours, takes her shadow

as it leaves

look at her still sleep,

quiet as ashes, a murmured

finger of a breeze thru' the

auburn tangle, she leaps

where the crows take her

where the cockerel pauses

on the stiff stood against spire

weather will have you one day,

a flat panel beaten bay tries to


where the careful eagles pace

their rare nests, crows are too

mob worthy to chase,

leaning into difficult voices

every breath has it’s muffled hearse

and crows do create trees

shrouds of ink spree scarves

dedicated to dusk

where most of us follow

into scarce dreaming


wend the purposeful hedges

to the glare of pouring panes

words built of guillotines afraid to

air their scented syllables meant

a purple prose horizon exacts

the spires in successful disappearances,

a filigree of elaborate fingers

succeeds with crows

hear the gentle lung ease with moans

thru' the thicket of silent sloes

a window met with fingerprints

as if your body was covered with them

sorrow and the sea

tear smooth today

for tomorrow to unfold into,

gulls like painter sketches

scratched onto the pale

moving sky

creased there with sullen

voiced harmonious murmur,

together the high up moans

where salt tailors cannot

reach, grieves

words do not harbour

but pour out drowning

one another out into

the swallowing water

“nourish me further” wetly sighs

slopes and sudden


waters fold amongst

itself, within itself and

unfurls headless

strides towards a yearn of

into come gasps and retreats

back thru’ it’s liquid glass

body i cannot gargle into

but want to wander thru’ completely

and this day narrates it’s

blown coldness thru’ the

talkative grasses thru’ the

windswept ribs, greyness

paints the bay a shale grave

rain has happened

oh loss

my custodial of rust

bring the sky down


i see silence

about to happen

a tear about to


all of autumn's hinges

an old song of shutting,

windows lain bare

with lonely gazing

flowers long under in

deceitful slumber

will break there

will dream of perfect stems

below worms shrugging

thru' root hummed empires

where old bones make


grey here is the same as

oceans or above, torn of

every happy colour, the witness

of the wood is sombre

far from a hundred spires

i gave the ghost of a man

to the girl that longed for him,

bent back tulips and

scarce crow boughs

each one a jagged corpse

a sculpture on the crooked

horizon, ink drinks me up into

complete dark litmus

if i bury him near then petal's

smell the past to reawaken,

come up my fingers like

dusk, like bruised aphids

oh floor ruined moon light

toil with swarm of weeds

where touches won’t approach,

steel frayed lunar dresses float

a loneliness so abrupt it’s

unbearable, knowing that

another wakes beside the

silence i now turn to

empty yard where we drank

meadow infused gins, and lazed

there comfortable eyed, far now

from where i sit, bare looks at no one there

where the overflow gnats haze and

meddle in corners, a kiss could have

neared, come oh so much closer when

such fly nuisances obscure

air smells newly somewhere mown

fox echoes narrate stealth’s darkness,

the chair painted sorrel and leaf like

fingerprints, nobody opposite staring

where will you wander? in another’s arms?

far from shore strode shingle, far from

the whispering multi-voiced fields, far

from where i gaze into the bottom of a glass

tearing the sky

rip up silence

it's orchestra's of quiet

appall with noise

shriek out,

snarl winter's

opaque claw

occlude the squeezed

sun, smash each root that

nourishes peace

infiltrate white bleak thumbs

sorrow has stealth of

spider larders

hang with the boughs

icicles interrupt the

loose stream

azure cold eyesores

a sculpture of crooked

cloud cripples

crow about me like

insufferable wings

thin ash voices

waist up to the most

shouted hurt, tacks, or pins

or six inch metal fingers

swallow them, incorporate such

sharp replacements

usurp this ink thick pain

no amount of animate sharpness

will distract the grief

giving hearse

death never slept

stooped into flowers as

you sleep

can you hear the fragrances

as others weep?

beneath cherry tree

a ghost to slumber

where now will you


this quiet

see the moment suffer,

complete each atom

before it breaks,

there is such sadness

with the rain

falling, glistening

like enveloping

whispers, where

the bluebells cloy

late spring

there is a sea in a

tear, a tear in the noise

the world makes, torn

to absolute silence,

become cemetery shyness

where watched roots

do not wither and lasting

sunbeams wander, i'll

find you there waiting for

bluebells to shrug their sleep

it's a quiet i will always keep

when that minute dies

i have rid the sky

of every constellation

subdued the sun

under drunkenness

but the pain is lit

i cannot suffer the

jagged horizon or

it’s cold concrete spires

fold away those memories

into deep dark creases

fold away the sea

easy as counting water

time, has it broken upon the

watch? or stopped in the blood's

calling for rust? gaze upon the

stood month where

death lazed exact minute of

departure, felt the colours of

everywhere become sorrow,

heir to so many raven wings

the why is woken


won't happen but

tomorrow will

with silence

hours will not

fall into place

and floors are


mouths stuck

on gape, and ether

addicted will

not dream again

today's sky is

pained, today's

head is full of

childhood dew

a carousel of

limitless colours

fades, tomorrow

is edged with

cemetery echoes

of dead clocks

there are plenty

fulfilling faces in

their locked gazes

too many seasons

have passed into

disintegration like

most disposable friends

now is too much hurt,

of being broken

slow atoms leak

from reality's stood

this moment always

is, a discrepancy of

vague months, suffer

accomplishes none

stare thru' ripped

time, possessed by

yesterday's affection

an archive of pulled


always is

a bleak black wave


all fallen flowers


exact falling is

how it will always be

white honeycomb


like forever

infinite grey

beaches, dull rain

and rusted edges

too sighed out to be

hopeful breezes

the sky is full of

empty lightning

empty constellations

like the heart

like the heart full

of despicable ashes

dusk is about

returning into darkness

returning into deadness

empty candle

oh shadow feud

where the blackberry plinths

usurp hedges,

ink tetherers

complete the dusk's lid

a moonlit hand

a shrieked sculpture

where gales carved that man

into a stoop of

suicidal atoms

murmured mouths where roots

comply chloroform anchors

viaduct hollers where the rain admits

soft sighing deadness

bring the sea inland it asks

too much wetness in the heart drowns us,

burden of boughs bend with heavier

blown flint drifting skies,

october’s lament head’s worth

like a tune that worms

gone forsaken slopes where dew

used to glisten dropped jewels

now pawed with by continuous charcoal

and roamed by winter’s knots,

apply me with the slow drifts of cadaver sleeps

expectant happening

return ashes to the

inwardly foldable dusk of


daylight is



glistened with

sparkled with

tear - torn - jewels

lawns of

expectant eyelids

glistened with

footsteps up to

the sill

the chaffinch worried sill

there a gaze would

pause for ages

until time borrowed boredom

if only memories

would leave me so


glisten with you

christened with the

proteins of another

the silk white thin clouds

obey the hurtled breezes

tree committed fingers

return these sullen

ashes, cinders of

perforated veils

and daylight is

robbed, drained of


the gaunt sleek curtains

draw silence

like muffling humid hands

whilst time endures

whilst the charcoal

bed copies night

you'll not return

until the horizon spills

with startled sunshine

crimson first

of a trillion bud burst

gold infused the grey deep hills

then wander over

me again like soporific bees

or rain seeping inches

rust acceptance

leaf swirled window

a kept tear,

torn skies are for

holding near

nearness is all

i have

autumn rusts far

too well, slips oxides

and deceased browns

discarding masks and hands

the lung’s forecast

and the creased sea

turns coldly bitter

on the wing, it’s

icy voice heads inland

to interrupt the hinges

of gates and public houses

to chase litter-crumpled-dresses

old men deep in scarves

or the sleeps of crows in

their bleak nests, comes like

a holler and pushes withered

honeysuckle veils over

where the nails have rusted, fallen

oxides like blood

turns towards stood trees, rushes

amongst them like a frantic

lover looking, to the viaduct’s

shoulders no train will ever wander

over, the howl from such lungs comes

from the sea’s whisper

it startles boats into shrugging

the coast, keeps dreamers awake

by shuffling fences and creaking

their posts, the weep of air is

immense now, comes the rain

from wrung out clouds

pursue the fields over with vigor

unsettling the grasses their wild

unkempt hair flail, shakes the

hedges tears off fingers,

uneasy hedgehog stirs

from worm paused dreaming

blast of sighs, it’s sigh diminishing

as if such fingerprints never existed

uncertain evening

upon the wall

reflection of

slept windows

moon soft hands

reach sudden


then ink is

lord again,

a swallower

evening's breath

reconsiders the foliage

about to sleep

turns what is dull

into bright silver

where the fox suspects


there are footsteps

in the hedges

and stealth in

the stubborn roses

watchers snare the

few returned gnats

adding wings to their appetites

disassemble atoms

bring past full

of fresh roots

to burn their buds

to allow winter

to perish

sunshine redeems


but i am filled


beetle black silence

around me

months are


and friends

root themselves for worms

to nourish

this spill, this waterfall cry

shall topple spires

deafen the wolf's howl,

outdo a sea's temper

you cannot begin

the same atoms

redraw yesterday

but my gaze is


drones with the

footsteps i persevere with


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