Mark Heathcote Poems

Love is a freelance writer
If you want my real answer
Please don't take dictation
This is only an oral examination.
...

My love...

Air tastes plum sweeter in my lungs
in my mouth after a tropical storm
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Love is a sacred red rose
First, you must breathe its

Hot fiery scented clothes
...

If beauty could let' her love to me
like the white buds on a magnolia tree
what a nature in my soul there would be
what a freedom in my breast for thee
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Aloft to my angel, my angel child
that winged my heart flutters with joy.
I wish to bring ye young one home
and clothe thy bones with flesh and blood
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Kneeling; I pointed out to my child,
Who really as yet doesn't speak?
Look" I said: the sky is wild,
And grey. Look" at its cheek"
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Tears forever hoodwink and disobey
They vitrify molten glass to blow apart
Such is the principality they're cliche
Such is the hypnosis of a loyal heart
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Alone with her loneliness, she'd placed
In a darkened segmented basement:
Under her eyelids her impassionate prey.
...

O did a tear make this ocean
O did the mildew and moss
form this an island crust
and then did the earth
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A soul may tally to the stars
Like a badge of victory honour
But who will know of the wounds
And wear its uniform of scares.
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