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angel on the moon

I would sit at the edge of the moon with you.
we would light a cigarette and share it,
you would hold a globe in your hand like a freckle,
and like a child, I’d watch you play with it.

your hair would shine a beautiful Harlow gold
your eyes would display a fierce emerald green, 
your skin would glow a blinding ivory white
yes, you would sit beside me.

where you wouldn’t have to go anywhere
where we wouldn’t have to leave
no one would know the hiding place
that belongs to just you and me.

There, at the edge of the moon.

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Fille disparue

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My dear

Sitting here with you quite near.
Our hearts in tune, our love endear
This moment's joy and happiness
can it forever be my bliss?
For mountains fall in time gone by
but true love stands the tests of time
It flows from heaven wrapped in care
With angels flight on wing beat air
For this I know if err you ask
True love is better as time goes passed
For one heart beating next to mine
it's worth more than the gold I'd pine
For here you sit close by my side
as body withers, and death walks by
I look back on years with you
Not one I'd trade, each one still new
This is the love that poets draft
that songs speak of and tales they task
True love is all that's good to have
It's birthed with us and with us pass.
Our thoughts in sync our minds in tune
together walk cross mountain dune
to valleys low and full of pain
to heights of joy and fevered rain.
I'd keep more than my own joy's sake
to see you happy beyond all pain
As I pass on and yet you stay
Know this my love will never wain.
Its precious this the gift I've had
It fills me with all hope not bad.
I go beyond but never fear.
For you my love, my all, my dear.

- Trish 2013

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The Man Beneath the Water

The sail is high, my bawdy mate.
Give not a thought to future’s fate.
Feel the wind, the breeze, so like
a whispering spirit.

The time is nigh, my one true friend.
Feel the wind, let not the end
distract from the waters
so pristine.

See there? Egad! A man there floating!
What a sight to see while boating!

His grin is sharp, my partner real.
His eyes are mean and green and teal
and beautiful; but they could be knives
shined to the color.

Stare not too long, my comrade close,
or else you’ll fall out of the boat.
The man’s a thing on which to ponder,
but do not let him drown you.

This boat’s a free thing, my companion.
There’s not a better craft to sail on.
It will carry us on our journey well.
Forget the man.

WHat’s that? You see a shadow creeping,
beneath the waters, dark and sleeping?

‘Tis nothing but the man, my dear,
still grinning knives from chin to ear.
Think not on it; let’s sail forever,
around this silent sea.

Where are we going, you ask, my sweet,
and my answer still is incomplete.
I’m sorry but can I predict
the wind?

Your eyes, they capture mine, o’ love,
but their hues, I see, are not above.
No; they blacken like the depths below,
and is your heart the like?

Hold fast, my muse, hold stead’ly fast!
Do not forsake this wond’rous mast.
Take care! My words cannot assure
of what squirms beneath!

My mate, my love, my one true friend,
you slip beneath the mirrored waves!
My partner, comrade, true companion,
all efforts vain to your presence save.

I’ve lost you now.
You’re gone below.
The man grins up at me,
with guillotine teeth
and fingers like spears.
He is a warmonger.

I cry out, “love!”
and a voice of fathoms answers
echoing, in a hiss
of searing steam,
which I cannot grasp.

For a while,
I sit in contemplation.
My eyes flash at 
anger, sadness, each sensation
invoking the stinging gaze
of the man in the water.

But presently I sail again,
and the man in the water
follows close, like a plague,
or a shadow. 

Soon, I may become him,
if I was not already, 
and I may lie in wait,
with him, and search for a flight,
which I may capture and share,
with my one, true father-fiend:
the man in the water.

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Book 1: Canto III. Lady Lachrymarum

'She hath wasted with the fire thine high places,

She hath hidden and marred and made sad

The fair limbs of the Loves, the fair faces

Of gods that were goodly and glad.

She slays, and her hands are not bloody;

She moves as a moon in the wane,

White-robed, and thy raiment is ruddy,

Our Lady of Pain.'


-A.C. Swinburne, 'Dolores'-


The wind that is sorrow,

Who moves and makes still

The rain that will follow

Shall leave us and keep us here

The silent and the secret,

Our Lady of Tears.


The fountain that is youth

And the Angel who guards it,

The frail body it consumes

Shall free us from mortal years.

The young and the yearning,

Our Lady of Tears.


The fire that is frozen

In the dwelling of sin,

The loves that are chosen

Shall make stained what is clear.

The burning and the broken,

Our Lady of Tears.


The Love that is lying

Between thy lips and mine,

The passion it delivers is dying

And yet we have nothing to fear.

The painful and the painless,

Our Lady of Tears.


The Death that is desire

And the pleasure it brings,

The laughter that is his attire

Shall guard us and make us adhere

The stealthy and the sleepless,

Our Lady of Tears.


The Black Sun that is setting

In a world far beyond us

And the River that leads to forgetting

Shall darken thy eyes and thy ears.

The morning and the evening,

Our Lady of Tears.


The White Moon that is rising

Above the lake of fair lovers

Where the aching and sighing

Shall save us and keep us here

The evening and the morning,

Our Lady of Tears.


The Earth that is dying

And the life forlorn,

Our season of laughter and lying

Shall leave us and keep us here.

The silent and the secret,

Our Lady of Tears. 

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Celeste’s Dark Lighthouse

(Celeste parts 1 through 5)

the disappearance of

light was never

discouraging to the family in

the lighthouse. celeste could

see quite clearly the rocks in

the sea looked like men

carrying dangerous things and

worried only over the hem of

the dress she made, her first, and

certainly norman the cat wasn’t afraid of

birds, white or otherwise, nor

dark crashing waves.

so at night they went to the shore


they say cats see quite well

in dark, though norman couldn’t.

night seeing is necessary

by the ocean because waves

take up all of the sound

ears can see so of course

celeste walked carefully and

was especially observant of things

that washed up and glowed while

norman the cat pretended to be more

brave than he thought he could.

for instance, when celeste knelt his ears pricked

and swiveled and then he stepped in

her footprints while listening for clams

sniffing once, just once, at an

old jellyfish when suddenly she

presented him with several puzzling pieces

of shiny white sand dollars, and waves

crashed amongst the flexing

rocks and she squinted

“maybe i can put them together,” she

said to norman, right up close

she whispered, “maybe they are parts of the same one.”


celeste carefully placed them

in a shape in the sand

as she approached

the cave. the entrance was guarded by

blue glazed shells deep

as a hand and pincers armoured every

split in the rocks, colourful

weeds grew where water

dripped down and the

cave was shorter than celeste

herself so she stooped, carrying norman the cat

like thorny hand muffs above the

sudsy tide pools filled with

fractured pieces of

dark starfish which

wet the hem of her plain

white dress and seemed

to pull her feet


within the cave water wooshed

everywhere and was so cold

it scalded celeste’s

hands as it dripped and

her ankles were red

as radishes

“i may die someday

this may be the

end!” norman the cat

said as he squirmed

in celeste’s arms but

he purred as she leaned

to guard him from

the dripping chill.

“no you won’t,” she said.

the entrance

to the cave was

far behind them and

the sound of rushing

sea and wind from

the belly of the stones

hot and steam quieted

everything but them.

she set him down.


norman the cat

scrunched up his body

on the balls of his claws and looked

at the cavern first

with one eye, then


“what do you see?” celeste

asked her wet friend.

he shivered and stood fast

and looked clearly into

the cavern which

was full of gas and

fog and depth and 

gathered his answer:

“i don’t know,”

norman the cat said with one eye 

again closed, “what are

those?” he asked, “where does that go?”

celeste frowned and

scooped him up. a voice stopped them,

shaking celeste’s heart even

more than her radishy feet

and it boomed:

“I See Something.” 

the voice sounded like a great

groggy, gassy and angry

belly. celeste’s arms froze still

while norman the cat

crouched into her, hiding

his head as she clutched him, splashing

away backwards as best she could

“i see something.”

the cavern groaned again. softer this time

as though it didn’t know how

loud it could be with a low



the cavern began shuddering

and shaking and celeste

couldn’t tell if it were her trembling or her eyes,

the colors and dark became

a moosh and norman the cat jumped so high

he didn’t know when to run until he saw celeste,

momentarily caught on a rock by the dress

she made herself now ripped at the hem!

it was then norman stopped.

the great mouth of the hallway to

the cavern was lined with two vast curves of yellow

and white tusks of teeth the size of which

he couldn’t see and wouldn’t believe. it yawned

while one giant eye drooped

down sadly, a bulbous dark orb and

iris which squinted next to them and the cavern

spoke. “you’ll surely drown,” the

cavern yawned, “go before me. go before

i leave. go.” it hushed, “go or go not.

or drown.” and the cave shook

as the droopy eye shut and disappeared

and things fell with great echoes

like rocks as norman the cat

turned about and stood up

on four legs

firmly, two eyes open

while celeste trembled and

worried the torn hem of

the dress she made

and became brave:

“we’ll be shortly out

of your way, mister cave,” he

chattered in his best bravest way in

the way animals say, “you never ever

hurt celeste or her dress again.”

and he meant it, though the

cavern was never

angry at celeste and norman the cat

anyway. but norman the cat

was so very brave and celeste

swooped him up and hugged him

then started to run


the old cavern waited for them flee

as fast as they could

out the way the came:

out the throat past

the teeth and tusks,

the mouth and

the shapes celeste

had made like ships and up the beach

past the rocks like men

carrying dangerous things

celeste and norman the

cat watched from the cliff

beneath the dark

lighthouse as the creature

crawled from the cavern and

slid into the sea with a spout

which was lit, by now, by the

sun above the waves.