POEMS
bedtime story on a raging night
after inanna and her lilit demon
on nights like these, my boy,
when the sky is dark and the wind a ghoul,
when the thundering storm roars over the land,
on nights like these, if you see her at the window,
don’t let her in.
on nights when we gather close
as gusts push through cracks and
rain drips through roof and
our family home shakes
don’t let her in, boy, don’t let her in.
if you see the dark maid
if you see the evening star
if you see the one who roams
from home to home and street to street
oh my boy, if you see her black eyes
at the door, tempting and cruel,
don’t let her in.
for she stalks and seeks
moaning and cursing
your fathers’ sins,
and when you’re grown, my boy,
oh you’ll know
that her outstretched hand
and her black eyes
take all a man’s strength
to say no.
if you open the window,
if you let her in, if you let
her dirty wings unfurl fireside
if you see her talons stretch
in crackling light, you’ll be done, boy
for that shadow angel waited at the window
so that when her fingers
rub ash on your chest,
when her lips press to your jaw
when you taste the unearthly
heat of her scaled breasts
then my boy, oh my boy, then
she will rise on storm wind
she will take you to the ancient tree
to the serpent who could not be charmed.
it will coil tight around your limbs
and she will lick at your flesh
and she will graze teeth over skin
and she will bite.
oh, she will tear
with demon snout and
hairy lips and chew
your bloody heart as it beats.
so don’t let her in.
don’t let her in.
prayerbook story 1
the vicar knocked. as fire crackled he recited
the word of god. logos flew from his mouth
to rest a foot upon my neck,
all in the name of love he said
i blew him away mighty wind from pursed lips
evening-time came and in midnight violet
the air was still and i took my boat out upon the
water. his house edged over the cliff, atlantic waves
kissing land. i climbed, i entered; his mouth agape
in sleep surrender, i stroked body-length of priest pyjamas
with my claw’s back edge then snatched prayer-book
from somnolent grip. the sea led me out again,
far waters
dark clouds
splish splash gulp:
the book / the word / his name
sank
the ocean is my therapist
(for sarah)
the day before the full moon, you wake and hear me howling your name. i sing you along asphalt roads and polluted air to my consecrated shore.
weep when you see me.
my tide draws back; the pilgrim must journey to my mouth. you were always worthy, but this task proves it to yourself. no souls beside you on the glistening sand. your feet at my changing lip, you begin what you came here for: you breathe then yell, you breathe then scream, with each cycle of air in your body you grow in power, the tar pushes in your belly, crawls up your oesophagus, throbs in your throat then you thrust it from your mouth, no blood to curdle just honest pain, just phantasmic longing, just the grief of living and knowing, curse, my dear, open your arms to the sky, open your arms to yourself, let the weeping wail rush across the sparkling and allow what needs to come. laughter. fright. shaking. moans. all the need you sublimated to survive. i open myself to your suffering, my magnificent waters will wash your wounds, this is the meeting of mouths, this is the cosmic kiss.
your heart transforms.
i love you. i’m sorry. forgive me. thank you. i love you. i’m sorry. forgive me. thank you. i love you. i’m sorry. forgive me. thank you. i love you. i’m sorry. forgive me. thank you.
now praise:
praise the glimmering light.
praise the birthright of joy.
praise the ones who know your name.
praise the return of the tide.
rise
O sea witch mystics and
forest prophets!
O fortuitous spiked hearts
edging t’ward the truth that bubbles up,
that dances through smoke swings in mist howls in dark:
some thing wicked rises
from midnight waters -
ebb:
concrete long-straight-hard silver knife
alloy frames pneumatic fuck
expand! want! eat and eat and -
here: reptilian tail serpentine slash through vengeant pool, then
pockmarked horns curved sharp beak, slime-feathered shoulders glisten
unfolding wings drip, then
O ivy-clung druids, bluebell healers, foragers of elderflower nettle fungi!
twilight diviners cave-dwellers stone sorcerers,
pagan womb-women worshippers of trees!
i call upon you to
witness
that which you long for:
the flood.