dreaming of oceans – the nightingale escapes me

Water

cry not for water
tears are too precious
to waste

once we dreamed of oceans
on Venus

amidst spice-rich dunes
water-sellers grow fat
tears of conflict

what use herbs
without water

we crossed oceans to make tea

we are made from dust
and to dust we will return
water flows between

my tears are priceless
there is no other water
in the wishing well

even vampires would die of thirst
without water

Celestial Matters

to stand on the moon
and see blue rain-swept oceans
print of a small step

beloved, there’s too much air
between us

three millimetres
creeping away
new moon

many hearts have been skewered
on the horns of Venus

how bright your homeworld
star of the evening sky
bewitcher of hearts
goddess, why have we worshipped
such a desolate beauty

infinite aspect
projected into 3D
imago dei

fuchsia lips trembling
feracious with expectation
space invaders

Kittens

words scratched in blood
I surrender the quill
to my kitten

cat amidst the pansies
counting to nine

Humour

not counting white space:
there are sixty-one letters
and two symbols here

this started out life as haiku
but to three lines were added yet two
the syllable count
started to mount
and a rhythmical rhyme did accrue

she bares all
to the daffodils
spring gust

new turf
preseeded
dandelions

Errant Thoughts

motionless kite in a ribboned tree

I keep my illusions in a [ ]

sleepwalking I wake the nightingale

ophelia’s fragrance lingering amidst the rosemary

haik: a poem cut short

hazy moon lighting soft-focus romance

ill-judged words a media bonfire

model’s designer skirts ethical issue

switch blade – cutting
between tracks

anesthesia – i sleep
through the cut

read fast these words are set
in concrete

with every page
another escapes
me

falling plum
gravity waves rippling
through brandy

my will erodes drop
by
drop

look closer:
taken bit by bit my words
are pixelated

we go east
and east
until we are
west

two years since lightning
cleaved the burned and blackened sky
and past from future
rain never falls in the park
where the swingless chains still dance

Miscellaneous

the rope-fast maid knows
how the dragon’s armoured heart
invites the arrow

where once poets bled
life and words upon the page
blunted fingers

fairy godmother
was cinderella’s true love
as fragile as glass?

bumbling through my dreams
a monster in a glass cage
with me

academic jargon
enshrined in ivory
towers of babel 

an epic voyage
waves upon a foreign shore
a cigarette shared

I stand corrected
corset tight about my wa-
sted musculature

amidst weeds
the garden’s clamour
wordsmiths breathe
air of deceiving
tankards of ale

About Frank

A Sci-Fi & Fantasy author and lyrical poet with a mild obsession for vampires, succubi, goddesses and Supergirl.
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8 Responses to dreaming of oceans – the nightingale escapes me

  1. Great selection, Frank.

  2. BroadBlogs says:

    Beautifully distressing, as always. Given the title, I’m wondering if you sometimes write about your actual dreams?

  3. Noora says:

    Wonderful selection! “Celestial Matters” is my favorite.

    • Frank says:

      People keep talking about how the moon changes, and yet it doesn’t really… although our experience of the moon is constantly changing and full of mystery. I was thinking about water for a few days, which led to thoughts of Earth and Venus.

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