I like dead leaves
and frozen ponds
and halloween
and most things in between

I like cold air
and waning light
and misty breath
and lanterns greeting death

ref:
The wheel is turning
yuletide's coming
darktime lingers
fingers numbing
frozen fingers
lanterns burning
winter's in the air 
each breath a frozen prayer

I like loud steps
and frosted trees
and falling snow
not melting on my brow

​I like birds gone
and grasses slain
and life on hold
all dormant in the cold

​ref:
The wheel is turning
yuletide's coming
darktime lingers
fingers numbing
frozen fingers
lanterns burning
winter's in the air 
each breath a frozen prayer​

I like the sun down
the dark outside
the light inside
and heavens open wide

I like dark glass
and icy walls
and northern lights
and never-ending nights

ref:
The wheel is turning
yuletide's coming
darktime lingers
fingers numbing
frozen fingers
lanterns burning
winter's in the air 
each breath a frozen prayer

​the mirror's shouting decades at me
the bedroom is on strike
the attic's filled with goblins
while the windows take a hike

the mirror's shouting decades at me
and everything's a mess
there's fighting in the closet
I am bludgeoned by a dress

ref:
there are heartaches in my pockets
and cobwebs in my beard
my glasses have all melted
and the bookshelf's acting weird

​the mirror's shouting decades at me
the kitchen is on fire
the parlour hosts a riot
and the mailbox is a liar

the mirror's shouting decades at me
the doorbell is in doubt
there's an uprising of boxes
in the basement, breaking out

ref:
there are heartaches in my pockets
and cobwebs in my beard
my glasses have all melted
and the bookshelf's acting weird

the mirror's shouting decades at me
foulest in the land
but I'm comforted by lampshades
and defiant I still stand
yes defiant I still stand

​I’ve lived by the ocean
Connected 
to every coastline there is
The sea spray
The gulls
the scent of engine oil
Carrying promises 
Undeciphered

But it wasn’t home


I’ve lived in the mountains
My mind touching the skies
The air clear as pure thought
Cool as naked solitude
The land it’s own map
Laid bare
Free of trees

But it wasn’t home

I am clearly not young
At best I'm not old
Or at least not that old
I've made
Good choices and bad ones
But all told
I fear I was not that bold

I’ve been broken and healed
Torn apart, 
gathered together
visibly mended
an autumn graft
It’s winter now
But I am not that cold

​ours is a house of books
bound in leather and cardboard and cloth
stacked on windowsills, bookshelves and stairs
treatises, comics and tomes
atlases, leaflets and box sets
books with stories and fables and myth
books on thinking and science and truth
cookery, poems and art
and books on the binding of books

ours is a house of rooks
and castles and knights and pawns
monopoly money and scrabbled words
trivia quizzes, cluedo and chess
played with varying skill 
and faltering will
joyful and playful and cruel
no prisoners taken
no mercy shown
stomping off and air punched
and alwyas another round

ours is a house of looks
fiery, furtive and flirty
looks that might kill
and looks that invite
looks to keep still
and looks to ignite
looks like a tough one
looks like it's late
and it looks like it's going to rain

​there's a point where all lines converge
a place where all viewpoints merge
all distances shrinking to naught
the endpoint for all trains of thought

the bus-stop at the edge of white
connecting to all lines of sight
there will be a short delay
your departure is next yesterday

there's a time after all events
a moment for final laments
a time where all waiting will end
for every true former friend

the bus-stop at the edge of white
connecting to all lines of sight
there will be a short delay
your departure is next yesterday

there's a cause behind all effects
and all that your mind detects
a cause for this turbulent mess
a reason for each failed caress

the bus-stop at the edge of white
connecting to all lines of sight
there will be a short delay
your departure is next yesterday

​Trusting blindly, we made plans 
– wonders we would know,
simply wishing we could see our way
to make them so.
We would travel to the moon 
on a silver wing,
as we could accomplish anything.

Weightless are memories
free in the space between us now,
orbiting our dreams of endless bliss.
Weightless are memories
free in the space between us now,
joining in a long and tender kiss.

Half-forgotten words unsaid, 
phone calls never made,
Dust from all the scoreboards of the games
we never played,
Promises we never broke
fights we never had,
Nothing from a love that would go bad.

Weightless are memories
lost in the space between us now,
orbiting our dreams of endless bliss.
Weightless are memories
lost in the space between us now,
longing for the final, frozen kiss.

Life unlived
Words unheard
Gifts ungiven
Lessons learned
Thoughts unthought
Sights unseen
Goods unbought
Scenes unreal

Feelings felt
Offers tendered
Cards dealt
Favours rendered
Promises broken
Bridges burned
Words spoken
Cards returned

Gå ikke villig

Gå ikke villig mot ditt livs god natt.
Du skulle brenne vilt i livets kveld.
Rop! Klag! Gjør opprør når ditt lys blir matt.
 
Selv de som vet at sluttstrek nå er satt,
men aldri hamret ordets gnistregn selv,
går ikke villig mot sitt livs god natt.
 
De vage sinn, idet de innser at
de kunne øvet stordåd likevel,
gjør også opprør når vårt lys blir matt.
 
Og han som jaget solen som besatt,
og felte tårer da den tok farvel,
går ikke villig mot sitt livs god natt.
 
De dystre menn som synet har forlatt,
som kunne eid blind fryd med bedre hell –
de óg gjør opprør når vårt lys blir matt.
 
Og du, min far, på høyden, trist, forlatt,
Forbann, velsign, meg nå til sist – fortell!
Gå ikke villig mot ditt livs god natt.
Rop! Klag! Gjør opprør når ditt lys blir matt.