I feel you
at the razor edge of madness
in the fierce break of waves along
the sea line
a half moon fading at dawn
in shifting shadows of endings.
I feel you in the sweet froth
and flow of memory.
In dark eyes that catch mine in
musty corridors of dreams
I see you
in the wild of wolves
the vigil of birds at my midnight window.
I sense you in sacred passages
where like phantoms we are lost.
art by Karol Bak
Nights while you sleep
my lips are so close I can
draw your breath in like an
infant at its mother’s breast.
I run my fingers down the curve
of your spine lean in to breathe
your smokey scent.
I have entered that golden part of you
immersed the sea that claimed me in
oceans of fiery sunsets.
When our hearts grow mute we will know
we have drifted too near the sun
art by Karol Bak
At the wharf I lean back against the damp stone wall, sip my drink and yield to the slippery salamander of sea. The moon is a glistening slice of melon, her whisper carries on the wind “moon child I love you too”. Sinking deeper in to my subconscious I watch a velvet sea bird swoop my reflection from silver waves where the sighs of lovers are lost in a monsoon. Old images flicker across my frontal lobe as I liberate sip by sip. That man with the golden veins doesn’t interest me anymore. Later when my pearl skinned body breaks the surface I’ll bring him back again.
art by Steve Hanks
I light my cigarette and turn to you
Within this dream I propose we fly away
Your eyes so dark
whip my mind into arousal and your
rough hand on my thigh turns me
soft inside and everywhere
You whisper that my hair so near
and my my full crimson lips devour you
Against waves of joy and sadness dreams are
always what it could be like
Suddenly hares chase foxes and Roebuck’s
hunt hunters and I bury my face in your
chest and to shield me from the terror you hold me within bleak arms
and we fly away.
art by Babylon Premium
I drift on an opalescent breeze
dreams flower in my hair
They shed in heaps of autumn leaves
rust and gold and green
I am traveling far from childhood
where dreams were never welcome
against transparent skies
I cast my tattered shadow
A Mayan goddess taking flight
thrumming ancient wings
art by Karal Bak
In dreams my
spirit guide is a Peregrine Falcon
with wings open wide still
I never fly over ancient
pathways of quilted fields or
deep woods of amber resin.
Even in dreams I concede
I am not a bird but never
art by Karol Bak
Your eyes are the crescent
of a silver bay that circles my mind
in the deep mystery of sleep
your voice an invocation of bells
that once rung cannot be undone
in dreams I am your dancer
beckoned at your will
I am a charme on your well cut cuff
a link on your diamond encrusted chain.
art by digitalina
I dreamed you beside me
in a small fishing village,
our bare feet dangling
from an ancient wall.
Stone soldiers, eternally
gaurding held back the
swell of the rushing sea.
By the beacon of a distant
lighthouse sea birds flew over
only to vanish beneath its
A shell at my ear I held you,
gathered you in silk arms of netting.
Losing my grip you slipped away,
freed from the catch of dreams.
When you leave I become
the sea gull begging salt from
from the briny air.
My veins are a winding tunnel
Of deep purple sea.
I channel you in the night owl’s
perpetual call that awakens the
Subconscious to the feel of
your phantom hand at the angle of my
At dawn your shirt hangs from a
Closet door in the buttery sunlight
and I become so small I could slip
inside the lining of your chest
sheltered by your warm skin where I
long to be.
art by Anuraag