Containment fell aside, crumbling megaliths
Abandoning post as my guardians on Earth,
And mythical, I move, dark, serene, swift
Into the humid life-death shadows of the palms.
I cannot be seen from the napalm verges
Burning strong with tiger eyes seeking my ghost.
I am declension now, at last free, in the degeneration
Of every dream, each mystery, all memory
Revised through hoary prisms called tears
Which drop, drip, freefall for a minor eternity
As my silent farewell, never enacted in atom-based tastes,
Severs and seals a beautiful Kosmogonic rapture
Of extraction,
Scattered close to the never,
Ascension unfolding
In the mirage of you,
Around the illusion
Of me.

(c) Kosmogonic 2016

“Lights Out Asia – They Disappear Into The Palms” on YouTube

Verdant Heaven


Such verdant eyes, you open me clear, each look
Of hope and pity that pass across such tiny void,
Vivacity, vulnerability on those very lips I mistook
For heaven by their taste, like divinity employed

On a man’s hunger, filling his need with quietude,
And gentle fingers soft, saddened, wizened, above
Your pianist’s dream of melancholic amplitude
Sending waves of harmony through our love –

A sort of melody, this tender waltz of knowing
The fear can be released like elated birds,
To freedom, to the streams of reality flowing
In these quiet, racing hours, lost in our words.

(c) Kosmogonic 2016

Coastal Zones of the Mind


Impeached by my own language, insufficient, dissident, disordered,
I revile this terrace of faceless choices, of badly ordered chaos, where
I steadily disintegrate against the face of pretence, borrowed
Bravely, vainly, gravely, from the face of implausible reality,
Which has legs, such fine legs akimbo when the light is right,
When the rain comes,
Down on the challenging foray
Into coastal zones
Of the mind.

(c) Kosmogonic 2016



Senseless radiation –
Without sensation?
Or devoid of meaning
Like pure negation?

Cosmos drifting black –
Without colour?
Or vacuous attack
Like sheer airless lack?

Gargantuan space –
Without substance?
Or an empty grace
Like elemental trace?

Drift floating soul –
Without anchor?
Or lightless whole
Like singularity’s hole?

Through which we
All become one in time

(c) Kosmogonic 2016



Dead when I wake up,
Alive when I sleep,
Reality’s shake up
Of the heart that I keep

Tucked away neat
Like a note in a purse,
A name on a sheet
Fuelling dark curse,

Poisoning my blood,
So tainted and taunted
By soul-riven flood
Of memories haunted

By beauty unthinkable
In spirit and form-shape,
A love that’s unsinkable
In night dream’s escape,

But otherwise shattered
On waking world’s rocks,
Primal union all scattered
In cataclysm of shocks

That left not a trace
Of the indescribably true
Of your divine loving grace,
Even the ghost-soul of you

Gone now.

(c) Kosmogonic 2016

Sister and Brother


Playing together, sister and brother, 
Too young for life’s troubles,
Simplicity’s joy as they flow with each other,
A tender Spring breeze o’er stream bubbles,

Pooh sticks and laughter, competitive mirth
Echoes through birdsong and shush hushing brook,
Bleary memories aswirl as I recall their birth,
Barely as yesterday, prologue of the greatest book

I have already written.

(c) Kosmogonic 2016

Behind Our Own Eyes


Let us form,
Let us die,
Let us paint a new sky.

Let us swim,
Let us drown,
Let us pull that sky down.

Let us write,
Let us bleed,
Let us sew new types of seed.

Let us cry,
Let us know,
Let us watch our souls grow.

Let us lose,
Let us win,
Let us burn the guilt of sin,

Let us breathe,
Let us dream,
Let us see behind the seam.

Let us love,
Let us live,
Let us be all that we give,

Let us fall,
Let us rise,
Let us be, behind our own eyes.

(c) Kosmogonic 2016