Cambridge Landscape 01 - Mars macro detail 01

Cambridge Landscape 01 - Mars macro detail 02

Cambridge Landscape 01 - Mars macro detail 03

'What I ask of you'

*
Love me… please.

Pick me up from the ocean floor,

Like a diver takes a shell.

Whisk me away…

Rid me of my selfish ways

And teach me out of Hell.

Hold me tight…

Place yourself around my life

And keep it cuddled well.

Sooth my pain…

Strive to know me as well as you might

And I’ll swear to do the same.

*

'Help me find you'

*
Help me find you,

Show me where you are.

And help me be too,

What to be to take things far.

For I need to confide,

That I have become convinced,

Of the timely great divide,

That the question comes betwinced.

And the question asks for nothing,

But turns to cut entranced,

The bastion of proportion,

Of the potion’s poured romance.

*

'Why does jealousy hurt so much?'

*
And why does jealousy hurt so much?

It really does stab as one might imagine a knife.

And yet worse, for it lingers too and drifts like a low fog of barbs in your chest.

And yet why does it wane when you sink right in?

When you drink it up deep it can even make you laugh.

The pain can become pleasure at the turn of a neuron.

Like a lingered bite on an infected tongue,

Like slowly salving a deep skin graze with surgical spirit.

But why does jealousy still hurt so much?

Why does it come back to pain despite its embrace?

And why does it sit in the heart?

If it’s chemical it must affect the pace of the beat.

Flip it over and make it replete,

With tears and torn scratches,

Cut into it ~ deep.

~

Yet perhaps it is envy, which is worse for its bite.

Burnt at the stake you just as well might,

For envy is muscled on military might.

And if the other person is perceived to be similar to the envier,

The aroused envy is particularly intense,

For you know that it could just as well have been you,

Who could have possessed that for which you desire,

Who could have become a lover for hire,

Forever and ever and never a liar.

And worse still, when you had your chance,

Had it offered on a plate,

Yet let it slip through your fingers as you grasped it,

That’s when you know you’re the fool.

And when the pain cuts deeper still,

For all is lost now – too late.

*

'In times gone past'

*
In times gone past I used to take it all in my stride.

With time on my side I knew I need never hide.

But with time absconded and myself left alone,

I skulk the dark corners and in it's shadows bemoan;

What will become of me?

Where will I go?

Who will now run with me?

In times gone past I would know.

*