Autumn leaves have begun to fall.
Late October London is ablaze in hues of orange and purple.
On my bench by the river I daydream that I am an adolescent
reptile escaped from Kafka’s Die Verwanlung,
laid back basking in the sun.
The air is layered in heavy cologne but men don’t interest me now.
I am content to casually observe.
To my advantage I know all about them
while they know so little about me.
Thinking of you against my wishes, dying a little,
dead all the sweet hope of dreams never realized
I imagine my earthly body padded, sat beside yours on a grassy knoll
to breathe in the scent of lilac and the mossy green River Delta.
In the dark I am nude but for a shadow across my torso.
You are so near and to distract my self from this burning desire
I let my thoughts linger among the lines of Roethe’s “In A Dark Time”.
Years pass and by chance we meet at the sad cafe. I sway in your arms like a fragile birch in an autumn tempest. The halo of my eyes glisten recalling how we gave away what we never really had. We hold each other knowing that love has died and we with it.
In dreams my
spirit guide is a Peregrine Falcon
with wings open wide still
she never flies through ancient
pathways filled with wood
and dark amber resin
even in dreams she concedes
she is not a bird but never
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 leaning in to inhale your 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 we have drifted too near the sun.
art by Karol Bak
the sun who shines
A breeze that shapes soft
passages where you travel
Let me be the wind,
breathing lilting melodies
that set your heart in motion.
In the night I will be
the moon, the swell and pull
of tides that draw you to me.
Ascend on a windscape strung
with stars the earth so far below.
To survive I follow our
paths from the past that
summon without consent.
There lies your winter coat
where we once lay,
buried below decaying needles
of a forest floor that smells of pine.
The silence is as hard as pounding hooves
or soft as the moon rising in your
kingdom of stars.
Gurkski’s ” Il me faut t’abandonne”
“Come dusk is when my mind walks out
from where I fence myself in,
my dark room of nightly delights where
I encounter her, my queen of all things blue
and we fight right from the start
To make me love her even more.
I place the hands of my heart to gather
my hunting spirit, follow her footprints
into our forests of love and war.”
In the moment
I watch the storm clouds roll in,
lap the salty raindrops with my cupped tongue.
A voyeuristic wanderer my eyes bright with wonder
oblivious to the future unsullied by the past.
art by Sabi Sabi
at the razor edge of madness
the fierce break of waves along
the sea line
in dark amber eyes that catch mine
in musty corridors of dreams
I feel you in the wild of wolves
in vigils of nightingales at my
I feel you in the sacred ache
of my bones
art by Karol Bak
Wide walls of
water tumble into deep pools
spilling over slippery quartz.
Grasping at jagged edges
She steps onto the mossy sludge,
sinks into soggy pockets of
Slender fingers grab at veiny
pulleys of the forest yet when
She reaches they resist.
The water is screaming indignation,
a fury thrashing upon stone,
Penance for thwarting
it’s downward path and there is
no way to console them.
Retribution is why She comes here,
a pounding retaliation,
the sting of needles on her back
stones soothed by wrath.
Cover the sky with your hand.
The summit of your palm is the moon.
Your fingers are streams of stardust
sweeping through an ancient dune
or the slender branches of forked trees.
Glide them across the desert,
over valleys, the soft and sediment.
I am every woman you have loved,
their dynamic wings beat in me.
Recall my eyes as history,
you have lived here a thousand years.
art by Louis Treserras