My face is pockmarked with breaking dreams, hope oozing away like yellow-red pus; the body haemorrhages desires to the ceaseless illness of survival. But the blood festers within, raging impassionedly, impotently until it bursts through, ebbs, clots and dries among feeding flies. Published in Making Waves - A Poetry Anthology , ed. Pam & Bill Swyers; Swyers Publishing 2011. ISBN: 978-0-9843113-6-1.
The message is supreme;
Born in the heart,
and lilting itself
from tongue to tongue,
throwing its scent
over wind and wave;
travelling on dots
or fingers
when blindness
or silence bar its way.
It hews itself into stone
or burns itself onto magnetic discs;
it is the message that lives
and I exist
solely to pass it on.