ponderous poetry for the hoi polloi



Reverie recurring

My love,

How my fading mind dreams of

You each night,

And the face that sunk a thousand


The rock of promise

Where your eyelashes sit like the

Frayed hems of obsidian seas,

Appropriately sequinned,

Divinely delicate

They do dance in unison

As the feverish bows of Tchaikovsky’s


These eyelashes,

Vacillating between bliss and sorrow…

Sorrow and bliss…

Shake the teardrops from your

Zircon duplet,

As they weep the warmest of tears

Beneath the blinking night…


And as one pair of eyes reluctantly close,

With the lasting image of the

Moon safely locked behind my eyelids,

Another will open,

To greet the morning sun once again,

And to love me, I hope,


The Night Owl

Who-o-o, who-o-o!



I’m a night owl,

No need to lark about,

That featherbrained flyer and midnight-cryer,

Call it agitated depression?

Or a major obsession?

For me it’s more than a

Moonlight requisition,

Oh she can’t come soon enough!


So call me a madman, a crazy, a

Lunatic… tock… tick… tock on the

Midnight clock,

I’m that odd sock,

Sending love letters by semaphore to the

Crystal rock,

With frantic arms and

Lips on lock,

But still the clock goes

Tock… tick… tock…


Who-o-o, who-o-o!

Dear Hans

Eh! Lippershey!

What a foolish man you’ve turned out to be,

To have wasted your time on

Such unnecessaries,

How could you not see?

This ball of midnight magic!


She’s so gloriously obvious,

So obviously glorious,

The girl with the alien tongue,

Space oddity, cosmic commodity,

And so delectably different from me…


And you… and you… and you!


But keep your hands off, Hans,

And put your telescope away, old chap!

She’s mine to keep,

Locked deep within my paralysed mind,

Behind feverish eyes,

She skips through black jack skies,


That girl so familiarly foreign to me.


How the fool in me longs for

The silent sweetness of her kiss,

Still ringing in my ear,

While my body performs the most hopeless

Series of contortions

Just to stay in her shadow.


Oh how I’m in hot pursuit!

Counting the racing stripes on her ribcage,

1, 2, 3,


Clinging onto the coattails of a

Fifty-foot butterfly,

So high she flies, in her insectile disguise,

Shaking me off with a smile.


But when the sun has ceased to share her joy,

There she’ll remerge,

From the hollow doorway,

The crack of darkness above the earth,

My loveable tormentor, midnight intruder,

Don’t be rude or I’ll silence you with a kiss!

And I’ll never let you pass me by.

Absolute Zero

I’m trapped in



Just left of where the iris fades

And the liquorice wheel begins to


That’s where you’ll find me,



Doing somersaults through the night



But I’m no shooting star,

Steering the painter’s brush,

Think more white dwarf,

Ho-hum and hung out to



While that girl,

She’s the brightest star in an

Asterism, sweet cataplasm,

Sitting pretty at the end of the

Rainbow road,

Red, Orange, Yellow,

Green, Blue,



The girl with the glitter ball


And eyes bigger and bluer than


Oh! How she disco-dances across the

Sequinned sea,

So far away, she won’t see me,

But I can



Yes! Through my

Automatic, achromatic, haemorrhagic lens,

I’ll zoom in on her,

Such celestial splendour,

She’s like quartz,

Winking at me,

Turning my eyes to



The interstellar iceberg,

Let us play hopscotch across the


And I’ll close my eyes and count to


And pray she’ll be in my

Sights once again.


Mon Dieu!

But how blinding her

Beauty be,

She’s burning magnesium

Against an empty TV screen,

The star of a show which ended

Weeks ago.


But still she flickers,

With her silver skirt and tangelo toes,

How I’d love to be the

Notches on her asteroid belt,

And squeeze her tight,

Until I find my way home.


But instead I stand still,

Stuck, ankle-deep in the treacle,

Deep trouble, deep confusion,

These boots weren’t made for

Moonwalking girl,

Nor was this heart ready for the



And so she strays towards the darkness,

Further and further and


Until my outstretched arm becomes a

Dot amongst the



But while she may be light-years away,

I’ll still love her, needless to say.

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