You let your heart blaze,
With the fierceness of an inferno,
Unrivaled by the bird of myth-
And, for fleeting moments you would soar-
Until they left you.
Emotions burnt out,
You would tumble- an ignoble decent,
Crash landing you become your own urn,
Ashes through an hourglass,
But in human form.
Awaiting a firey maelstrom of rebirth,
Kindling to the spark
A match to gasoline
Lover to lover...
When the stars align,
You rise again on firebird wings-
Ignite like wildfire-
Until the next broken-hearted, broken winged fall.
The sunset was fraudulent.
So much of the natural splendour of dusk,
Lost in the urban sprawl of half-derelict-factories,
And abandoned train stations,
As I try - Houdini like, to escape the chains of past emotional baggage,
And weigh everything in to lighten the load,
Trading in emotions for scrap.
I saw your ghost today,
While sitting at your old workbench,
In familiar loops and curls of blue ball-point-pen
A few meager left-hand-written letters and numbers
That bore a date that passed years ago.
The knowlege you shared clicking over in my brain
Guiding my working hands-
You're still here every day as I repair time-
Grease pot, case opener,
(That tool now forever referred to as 'the yellow thingie')
Screwdrivers of magnificently tiny size-
All the pieces there-
Dial and hands,
One, two, three,
Crown and stem, quartz movement,
Gaskets, setting lev