The winter tree

The winter tree gives us just enough
hope for leaves
in the spring.
Six months of dark magic
pulling life up from the earth.
Bury my dreams
bury my body
beneath the cyprus tree.

© "Neon Veil" (All rights reserved) 

From XMAS-Wallpapers

Duality

The sight of

your hair strands

stranded over

your eyes

exceeds aortal

capacity,

unglues

the cellular,

releasing

the quanta.

My heart

finds

your heart

in a thrumming,

sacred,

chamber music

duality.

© "Neon Veil" (All rights reserved)

Souls asunder

You left just a shadow

photograph of your hand.

It disappears in the sun

and haunts all night.

You point, and I,

your moon,

follow.

You steer me through the dark

seas and seasons

and I drift through the days

of aching,

starving for your touch.

© "Neon Veil" (All rights reserved)

© "Neon Veil"

Balance spring

The ebb and flow

of lunar dancing 

in the secret garden

wound our clock

and wounded hearts

around and within

our circles entwined.

The balance spring

tore between hemispheres

half-loves and partial vows.

Your winter and my summer,

shadow and puppet-

not before sunrise.

not after sunset.

What was that promise that you made?

I’m

going

to…

All of her meter and couplet,

and his free verse could not let

the clockmaker re-pair

what hands out of phase kept apart.

Till time does cleave

the water and the wild

drown in calm waves

of bored contentment?

The stars and the moon

unwanted now?

Fickle tongue

tasting words

and flesh.

On what will the

soul feast

tomorrow?

© "Neon Veil" (All rights reserved)

Watch works © PinholeGirl (deviantART)

The scent of her neck

The scent of her neck-

a tea of dry flowers

now desire moistened

and demanding

the ransom be met-

deliverance of lips 

drought dusted,

plunge, lick 

and tasted deeply 

as dark pools 

beneath shade trees 

of bodies bent

like a river.

© "Neon Veil" (All rights reserved) 

River, King Valley VIC © Jennifer Phillips

Alpha or Omega

Caught in the amber light 

of an accidental photograph-

her eyes are captured

dying suns. 

The strange reflection

of her heart

to a stranger

surrenders a secret 

retreat 

or entreaty. 

Yes?

© "Neon Veil" (All rights reserved)

"It is about a photo I saw of a woman. Her eyes looked ancient-- either really tired (retreating) or looking for meaning/love (entreating) so it was either a beginning or an ending for the speaker."

Pilgrimage

The moon is the host

dipped in the blood

of the chalice 

religio ad postremum

et finem Dei

and their lies,

the beginning of truth

full of dreams. 

Amen, soul-sailor, amen

steer through the starry

toothed night-

swallow the orb,

commune with the sea,

slay the hurricane,

and unleash the answer. 

As was in the beginning

is now and forever will be-

Love. 

© "Neon Veil" (All rights reserved) 

Moon © Jennifer Phillips

Boarding call

I buried the blades

rowing East to West.

Creating closeness,

making distance. 

Each natural wonder

forgot away

peace of you. 

And in the thundering

plague of Montana crickets-

you were no more

than a hurricane

to a rowboat. 

A great heart wind took me

Pacific North to South. 

I hailed your ship

and pushed through the silent Aye

of the needle of the Golden City,

out to sea searching 

for Elysium Isles. 

Loves' mercurial compass

charts all fools an odyssey 

and so I arrive at your port

moonburned and thirsty. 

© "Neon Veil" (All rights reserved)

Rowboat - Source: http://wallii.com/

We'll be fine

Tastes electric

Our tongues met

before our lips

spoke.

Our bodies familiar

to the pleasure

only strangers

can remember

in forgetting

convention.

And now adrift

from an afternoon

on the island of sun

and sensation.

An unexpected storm

punishes our boat and my body

rowing from the lightning licking

at your naked laughter

that smells of sex and smoke.

© "Neon Veil" (All rights reserved)

Boat in storm

Reductio ad absurdum

He pulls up anchor
to this dimension
and drifts
untethered but bound
to an unclaimed continent.

She dives
deep into the galactic
synaptic sea
separated
by potential
of wake and dream.

They have found
not the land of could
or should have been,
in this embracing
of soul and lips
and hips and scars.

This is a tale
that eats its snake,
Never odd or eveN.
He and she are cupids'
arrow in paradox*,
hearts moving impossibly
in a parallel rhythm.

*Reference to Zeno's Arrow Paradox and the Quantum Zeno effect.

© "Neon Veil" (All rights reserved)

Snake - Copyright Free Images

We'll be fine
Lost lyrics

Echoes

Each echo spills

out with loss

of the other,

stripped of shared

sights and sounds.

Memories torn

from last embrace

preparing for rebirth.

Each echo rebounds

with hunting

the familiarity of eyes

slipping into souls

lips onto lips-

time’s constant

drive to perfect

a kiss.

© "Neon Veil" (All rights reserved) 

Viaticum

Just my name. 

Urgent and clear,

a sober plea-

pulled me out of the deep

into the past

out of time

into terror. 

It was you now

afraid of the dark

edges pushing in

pushing out 

sound. 

Weightless,

void. 

If I could now

I would now pull 

the dusty curtain back 

one last time. 

© "Neon Veil" (All rights reserved)

© Ayumi Hasegawa (Ayumi Yoruko)

We met

We met in a flash of light

a moment stolen from the night

You and me - blinded in synchronicity

I can not see you,

You can not see me?

So we travel in the darkness of different roads -

searching for our selves, moving towards each other.

And our eyes adjust to the light of our moon.

© "Neon Veil" (All rights reserved)

Moon © Jennifer Phillips

Radiance

We will succumb

to the bifurcation 

along our beloved

Rubicon.

Eventually

one will escape

and the other will fall

at the Horizon--

as moon is torn from sun.

Till then

spinning, 

treading,

unwavering,

in our tempest.

© "Neon Veil" (All rights reserved) 

Primal

No sound,

movement,

a riot 

of silence.

Love arrives. 

Exactly. 

At last.

When the poem 

ends.

© "Neon Veil" (All rights reserved) 

Naan

With a scythe of crow,

shadow sharp from heel to toe,

we harvest fields of moonlight. 

The fat of dreams crackle and hiss

our tandoor is hungry for our bliss,

the bread of love is made tonight. 

© "Neon Veil" (All rights reserved) 

Naan Bread © "Pie O My: A Slice of Life"

Wěn

Of your 

singular savour, 

my mouth 

dreams. 

Lush lips- 

tenderness between 

devouring 

sweet Nai Bai, 

and fiery Baijiu.

© "Neon Veil" (All rights reserved) 

The tenet of the heart

Has wine turned to vinegar

on her tongue

slipping from a kiss?

UNFIXED.

The gamboge moon

suspends memories and casualties

from our love war.

Gravity has weakened

the ideal. 

WOMAN.

In the lover’s paradox

emotion is nothing but an illusion

and the distance between soul stars

can never be bridged.

These shambolic objections

in our celestial play

confuse reality with truth.

Our calculus is measured

by the waiting

of two hearts

who must

BELIEVE.

© "Neon Veil" (All rights reserved) 

Vincent Van Gogh, The starry sky, 1889

Dreamer's lament

Allegory of the campfire

I have gathered 

Spring

Summer

and Fall

scraps of love,

chewed them

and dried them

in the moonlight. 

Darkness gathers around 

our fired heart-

heated kindling. 

Do not blink,

witness the release,

of reconstituted fiery angels. 

These dancing ember dreamsmiths,

wheeling and whirling dervishes, 

paint upon the scrim of abyss- 

naked shadowgraph lovers

who kiss the stars

and the universe goodnight. 

© "Neon Veil" (All rights reserved) 

Campfire © Jennifer Phillips

This thing.

This Thing - the end.

We'll be fine

After swimming

Dancing in the dark

wind near the banks

of the Santiam

a simple black dress

hanging tentatively

upon a limb

reminded me of desire

that can not be tamed.

© "Neon Veil" (All rights reserved) 

Black dress © Jennifer Phillips