Mark. A Heathcote

Love is like bringing home the Guinness, not the bacon.
Pour halfway, then add the rest.
To see if it won't glisten with a full head.
It's a velvety warmth from the first sip to the last.
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When I see the green and red
Of the furnace flames aglow,
And a white dove is rising in the skies.
And those sleek, slender, starving Black-
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The workings of a clock
It can be as mechanical as a stopped heart.
A wingless entity
Naked and caged propelled to flower.
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Give me a woman in a birdcage
Singing like a canary for a kingdom without chains
Singing for a deeper humanity
Flapping her wings like words flung granite stones.
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If I could come back in another life
I'd be more goal-driven.
I'd do better at school.
I'd work harder for sure.
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Hypothetically
I travel to the centre of the universe.
Guessing the circumference of your heart
How a pinhole of light can shine so brightly
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Our lives are manifestations
Like blue skies and rainclouds
And then-the-next, they disappear
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Blue-eyed horses
Hold a piece of heaven in them.
It has a spiritual domain over others.
It aligns itself with the lightning.
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Not caring who or what observes its infinite beauty.
The dance of the light
Beneath the surface of the water
Like the David Hockney picture,
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It isn't that I am always right.
It's just that I don't bother to argue unless I am
This isn't because I am a belligerent fool
I understand it's all about perspectives.
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I will leave for Jerusalem soon.
Christ will save me.
The tide of the ocean calls my soul.
What more can I do?
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I've got a woman.
She wants her severance pay.
And says if I don't cough up today
I'll wind up dead.
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You can't sugarcoat genius with a coat of dust.
Even when the end is near.
You can hit them like a piñata.
And expect them to be broken or beaten.
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My heart has been bankrupt for many days,
Many months, to the point I've lost count.
And yet now I lean on faith and not hope,
Sometimes more on one than the other.
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My life is an appendage of yours.
When we're together, there are no more brochures
or flirting innuendos—overtures.
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I had melancholy till I found the Lord.
And lost my mind drinking all I could find.
I had melancholy till I joined the horde.
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I want to burn some tables and chairs.
In the dark backwoods
And laugh and hear it echo in a chapel
I want to sing as loud as a raging sea
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I mustn't leave this world without a smile.
A moment of tenderness to beguile
It's confusing enough to acquiesce.
The meaning of failure comes from success.
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August to November
It's a game, just when that old depression
Will hit and knock me for six again.
They say it's seasonal & they call it (SAD) .
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Never wanted a shadow or any drama following
Never wanted anything fake - how disappointing.
Never wanted ever to be washed, to be baptised
Never wanted to fall out of love or be reconciled.
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