The starless rock carves
a clean silhouette of a wilder sigh
in a red and burning sky
with faint feathers of pinker clouds
that lure fervor into gentle dusk.
The red wine ocean soughs and purrs
and, sometimes, wakes to gasp for breath,
scrambles up the softened side of starless rock
to reach for stars that softly come to life…

T. E. Pyrus


When water’s all there is to see
and tired ships that steer your way,
what breeze of light lulls you to rest
when nighttime fades to break of day?

When purple dusk fades into dark,
what wakes your fierce and guiding light
to watch wide waters’ wavering still
and twinkle, twinkle through the night?

T. E. Pyrus


how many salty waves must crash
upon the rocky ocean side
until it crumbles into sand
and, by moonlight, travels wide?

how many moons must cross the sky
’til palm trees by the ocean fall
into its ever-patient waves
that restless, craving, leaping, call?

how many constellations change
before all heartbeats, thoughts and sighs
blend into pale ocean salt
to live once more beneath new skies?

T. E. Pyrus

ocean dream

The shadow that hides behind me
from the glaring sunset, red,
claws into the dry, salty sand
when I stretch my arms restfully.

If I close my eyes,
I almost hear the crashing waves
behind me in the absent sea
nearly break this endless dream.

The shadow beckons my sandy feet
towards the calm, retreating tide,
enchanting me, enticing me
to walk with in the growing shade.

And sand, darker and water-marked
bewitches me like fragrant rain,
as if this fine and flying dust,
heedless bursts of absent flame

were really howling frantic winds
spiced with stinging snowflakes, cold,
rattling, curtained window-panes,
and homeless snowmen by the door.

I’ll shadow Shade, my lantern flame,
and seek dry bones of angelfish
that mark the sand like outcast waves
to lead me to my ocean dream.

There, I see the perfect moon
rippling in my ocean, pale,
and cry dry tears of ecstasy;
Shade, do come and drink with me,
this phantom water is heavenly.

T. E. Pyrus


One day, I will be blind.

I’ll while away my worries
by the fire that’s warm
and crackling, dark; reminiscing tuesdays
and my little red winter boots
that left those footsteps in the snow.
Sometimes, I’ll forget how it felt
to wake to daylight.

I’ll wander into afternoons,
slow and savouring each footfall,
the wafting wind of dry leaves
as they crunch beneath my feet,
probably brown and gold, and
maybe the sun felt warmer
when the sky was blue.

I’ll stir a bright orchestra
of clouds of oranges and pinks
in my mind, and wonder exactly
how green the blades of grass
crushed between my fingers are,
and how many melancholic days
one can live on limited sunsets.

I’ll taste the winds for singing rain
or strong impending storms with thunder
and no lightning to wreck this woeful
soul of sorrow and drench in tears
this heartless heart and cool
this wilful mind of vanity
that will always chase the past.

I’ll lie upon comforting sands
by seas I once gazed upon in awe,
like timeless heartbeat, crashing waves
and salt in the damp breeze, rolling tides
and the moon that’s long said goodnight
once for all; stars and stars, and falling stars
that burn and fade like loving smiles.

One day, I will be blind.

T. E. Pyrus

cold blood

i’ll build us a castle of glass, my love.
painting on the wall of you with him,
in wedding white and painted clouds in the sky
i’ll treasure you forever.

I walked gentle down the aisle,
my footsteps follow yours for
every minute that you lived,
flowers in my hair.

why, don’t you look polite now…
i loved you when we swung our toes
a hundred feet above the icy
forevers of the ocean.

you looked peaceful when you
floated up, white under clouds,
your lips dark scarlet than ever before
your cold white heart, now frozen.

T. E. Pyrus


my cup of tea has
a tiny purple flower
painted delicate on china.
the worn out golden rim
glows graceful in the sunset,
rippling in the wind.
my elbows feel cold on the
rusted steel railing,
the faded green paint peeling off;
my fingers feel warm.
the salty blue taste of
the ocean before me
spreads into forever,
singing her melancholy
song of wind like a chant
long forgotten, but never lost.
the clouds in my teacup,
they dream about you, my dear storm.

T. E. Pyrus

castle of glory

build me a castle of glory, my ocean,
build me a castle of sand.
my life is a countdown, each heartbeat.
your love is the sky and the land.

bring me but four little seconds
with a silver tiara and gown,
i’ll walk down the aisle like a princess,
with glitter like rain pouring down.

wash down my castle of glory
when my hands are wrinkled and bare,
and if my eyes remember our story,
please tell me you’ll always be there.

T. E. Pyrus

sanity overpriced

here’s a florid sunset
to keep you company
and haunt you unto
endless, fractioned,
young, infernal sleep;
that portentous fairytale
smells of your audaciously
overpriced idiocy
and the half sentence
that you never
cared to read
aches to watch
you bleed;
cyclones never heed
the sorry weatherman’s
lock the cage and
can you function
without unprovable,
invisible, half existent
floating bits of
i aspire to love
the ocean and her
pretty green
evening gown,
the way her
half a million lovers
try to keep from
falling down;
live in two
places at once;
eat your cake
and have it too
and never fully
knowing true
breathing; you can
wipe your bloody
paws off on your
checker boarded
hypnotized by that
circle from your
last glass of amnesia;
stumble down
the side walk in
your uncourtly stupor;
the ocean and i
may kiss your feet
while your cold
fingertips kiss the
raw ocean floor,
bleed green;
stay in between
the lines of
affected sanity;
shadow me for evermore,
you aesthetic cadaver,
follow me on
your rocking horse
to icy isolation.

T. E. Pyrus