Under Covers


It just might

be undercover;

human dust-mites.


Disapproving mother

makes

forbidden lovers

play more like animals

in the heat

under their collars.


Our symbiotic

shapes

feeling – just right.


The feeling smothers

you uptight

– breathing in –

water fountains and lakes

within bed covers.


Horizontally upright.

No bearing grudges

or bearing down upon

the breaks

when the love’s right.


There’s no trust like

it with anyone

else or any others;

this is our

glorious mistake

and this is what

love

really looks like.


We are always

shining bright together,

shining love’s light.


Even into old age,

our last chapter

and our

intertwined fates

remain forever…


We were right

to be undercover;

even after…

human dust-bites.


Build bridges not walls


A wall is made for breaking down

A brickyard’s tears, a stony frown

Ventless, relentless, in the past

America, Berlin, Belfast

Partition found on world renown.


A bridge is made to bring together

A culture crossing, a road for better

Far-reaching, for teaching

The human condition’s seeking

Each step across is a capped feather.


The walls you put up within your heart

Deny a chance for love to start

Foreboding, eroding

Bitterness, self-loathing

Constant reminder – landing marks.


The bridge you build will bolster new

Strengthens souls and spirits too

Co-operation, exaltation

Meeting in the middle; combination

Helps humanity by uniting you.


The thing is…


Whatever it might be

It’s them and not me

Something found you’ll still miss

The thing is…


I can’t put my finger on it

Darkness can never be lit

Never cease nor desist

The thing is…


You’ll find a problem you look for

In colour, creed, or much more

Whether words or a fist

The thing is…


We all bleed one way

Same colour, red – every day

The thing is…

We are all in this.


Together.


When the thread wears thin

Their weight on your mind
Their weight on your shoulders
Their weight you will find
Bearing down above us

Their pressure’s always present
Their pressure seems benign
Their pressure so unpleasant
When your life is undermined

Their future’s never honest
Their future seems so grey
Their future isn’t promised
When you’re living for today

Our past is there behind us
Our past always matters
Our past always reminds us
When our spirit seems so shattered

That we’ve always got eachother
When the thread is wearing thin
You’re my sister and my brother
And every new start, starts within.