Mark Heathcote Poems

Love is you wearing war paint
Is your mascara running or is it waterproof
Is your heart & soul fireproof?
Since the colour of our flame, turned opaque
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If my heart were a gilded flower
Would I give it to the first bee?
To arrive embowered in light.
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Her moods are like ever-changing rain clouds
Some days I just want to float with her
And whatever enshrouds, I'm happy inside
Drifting over oceans and deserts bestir …
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A sailboat has no direction.
But to go wherever it-is-taken
drift or tides make no mistake
we too-must glide across this lake,
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A child is born
And taught in ways to think
But what child born,
Hasn't character
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A minute an hour is a distance in any bodies head/heart
When they're alone with their own expiry date
Thinking sadly, towards, their own end, their own death.
Laying there on some long-forgotten shore
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A man carries an icon in his heart and more
He crosses the steppes in search of a distant shore.
He's a wanderer a rambler, lain up feeling lame
He goes to the end of the world to exclaim.
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A childless woman is carrying my pain
Rapt in her own white shawl she's out in the rain
She's crying to a hollow that's buried deep in my soul
She's crying for a baby; guess simply to call it hers & hers alone.
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Oh, how I wish Death weren't prolonged.
Where are you going to my heart of wonder?
Chasing gentian folk lightning-tongued
Now that the rising pain starts to thunder
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Every story generates lies and tall tales
Distorting mirrors sadly, ruin lives.
It is better to be independent of any fictions
Find those sieves within yourself
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