Mark. A Heathcote Poems

the alchemist said
I can't turn lead into gold
the Ginkgo laughed
...

Do you not think I have desires or aspirations of my own?
That I cannot lift myself above the basic needs of others
I have far-reaching visions that go way beyond
Your grotesque, self-centred reflections
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Hangs in balance almost always precariously
At any juncture, the world might change...
A message sent, another delayed
Nothing's ever guaranteed to remain the same...
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the pointillist
creates new luminosity
out of autumn leaves
*
...

Carole

What a calamity to meet you
Knowing how nothing will ever be the same
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Love is like bringing home the Guinness, not the bacon.
Pour halfway, then add the rest.
To see if it won't glisten with a full head.
It's a velvety warmth from the first sip to the last.
...

a violent storm
has left a damn I cross
until the next storm
*
...

Let me register my thoughts with the wind. 
And hear them untethered sing. 
Like bluebells in the falling snow
Sapphires are melting in my heart.
...

the scent of jasmine
and pipe tobacco entwines
living parodies
*
...

He who vents anger towards God
and says he's not convinced He exists?
Couldn't be a bigger believer
Then he who goes to church on Sunday
...