June 2016
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
when they came
when they came,
I sucked them dry,
the words bleeding
the overflow of my heart;
in them I am summoned,
in them this ever is
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
autumn script
another two deaths
not my own
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
autumn fare
living hand to mouth
on samizdat
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
writer's block –
rumours of silence
by word of mouth
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
all at sea
the hermit crab almost
an island
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
no man
almost an island
penning
ultimates
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
what was
in an afterglow
of what is
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
winter breath –
a snare of spaces
barely caught
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
first frost –
water cress crackles
with my passing
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
first frost
I drive blinded
in light
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
lip gloss
the play of light
behind her words
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
on my own
the tide came in
now it's out
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
full shadow
the rumour yesterday
that was moon
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
deep space . . .
passing between
thought and word
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
heart of darkness
my eyes peer into
the real me
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
frosted light –
a poet breaks down
into first words
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
light before words were uttered
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
winter sky . . .
need I cloud the issue
with words?
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
sinking into
a stream of consciousness
my poetic wake
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
morning fog –
my world once more
without a name
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
winter illusion
a moa tries standing
upright here
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
after
the last candle
the parting
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
rose-fingered sky
darkness leaves the trees
in silence
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
taking time
the efficacy
of now
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
at peace
in a reverie
of absence
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
here I am
in an obverse
of eye
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
shadows as if absently voiced
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
a snarl
on the periphery
of ardour
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
necrophilia –
the ashen taste of Latin
on my lips
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
a dewdrop
fast becoming
its absence
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
it was seen
but now the last cloud
drains away
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
om
ni
pre
sentience
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
solstice eve –
my breath torn between
coming and going
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
solstice moon –
the sun in balance
with its reflection
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
along this path
I too
walk alone
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
river fog –
everywhere everything
matters up
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
hung out to dry
on a wine-dark sea
my emptiness
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
at ease
within itself –
melon taste
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
back as it was
before she left
highway sign
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
for Franz Wright
the mutter
through the long hour
of our death
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
for James Joyce
Bloomsday –
here how my words
rejoice
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
shadows as if absently voiced
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
fallen leaf –
a chill wind revives
its presence
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
where we left them
the bedraggled bits of us
we once weathered
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
cold rain –
the weight of stars
within me
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
my breath still at the end of it
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- Written by: Stephen Bailey
in this life
to be as transparent
as stillborn