I was born in a thunderstorm
when melancholy merged with death
at the rock of the graves and grieve
ridden in a world that never fits

On this earth where tears are unsaved
inside the flowing wrongs and rights
traps of entitlement and brokedness
on days when the sun refuses to shine

I was born to never have a belong
on masses of an indescribable rise
watching on elongated corners of alone
where nights fits on the jigsaw puzzle

On this hell of a world, where music dies  
photographs tries,poems lies,canvas plies  
forgetting the misery of the human form
that sinks and leaks under the dungeons

The pebbles of your core
shine in ruminated scores
like a sorcerer spiking more
unlisting storms and ores

Smile dear rock, from a mile
touch the source of love ice
melt those gorgeous pure eyes
to the specks of the shiny shores

The rocky waves smell of testicles
Vestibules and alleyways of fertility
sung by Cronus as he holds a knife
eager to mutilate from a skyview

The sandy waters sink in Gaia hymns
as the scythe shed the slices of foams
where scattered sperms stays awash
to wish swimmers an eternal beauty

Ohh sacred gods on the aphrodite hills
Spread love unseen, unknown,unheard
stain the precedent of the flowing wind
give me the hint, a seat on the sainted scent

You are the anthem inside my heart
You beat the breath and each I count
A memory of what could be
A tragedy of what it is
You are the time of my fond youth
You trick the time and each I fall
Untaste the drought inside the pool
A ******* the fool that rules

Take me back to the river that we met
Pick the mango from the drooling tree
I have a heartfelt for your wrongs
I still do roll around your dreams

You are the sweet that can turn sour
You roam around the tower clocks
A memory of what could be
A tragedy of what it is
You make me break for love in truce
You box in blues uncovered truths
A rated sum sat on a stool
A ******* the fool that rules

Take me back to the river that we met
Pick the mango from the drooling tree
I have a heartfelt for your wrongs
I still do roll around your dreams

Let's count the summers you learnt to sail
Let's count the winter you run away
The spring where leaves covered your all
An autumn that you refused to love

I am old but soul is ageless
I have read many books but life is pageless
my anger burns into calm
its all just stories, a passing yarn
where am I now, where was I then
everywhere now & everywhere again
it will rain of this I'm sure
from land to land and shore to shore
the sun is changing, so are we
we have no choice
we will be free 
we all will run
we all will fight
it wont be darkness we frown on
it will be light
in the end you see the beginning
nobody will lose
cause we'll be winning

*Written by my friend Lindsay who passed the yarn..... pass the yarn

Let the river flow wash away the pain
Let the fire burn it all in ash
Let the torrents pass, let the river flow, let the river flow

I long to see you in the bloom of winter
where trees are withered and flowers float
in the noose of the nuke
inside the news of the hooks

I want to see you in the rays of the sun
where the leaves shine on a summer mood
in the music of the duke
within mews of the fountains

Let the river flow wash away the pain
Let the fire burn it all in ash
Let the torrents pass, let the river flow, let the river flow

I see the rain washing the excrements
where tar and wire were bouncing
in the moving fires
within the encircling tires

I touch the blood on the palm of your hand
engrossed with the pain of trials
in the unresolved pastures
within the chaotic azures

Let the river flow wash away the pain
Let the fire burn it all in ash
Let the torrents pass, let the river flow, let the river flow

You left me with the a bid
a bigger slice of my best
a wish me well that lingers
even longer without your love

Your unformed abrubt reasons
of tainted unsainted failed logic
a wish you well, no hesitations
on the table of untouched melodies

My walls are a brighter emerlard
with stripes of the unmissed kisses
matted with peace and liberation
of torn risks and control measures

My sad blues were washed by the rains
above the moon and over skies above
scouring, soaring, scrapping, summing
in another forever of amaizing lines

Arnold my dearest friend was 82
his soul has made a transition
through sands and vast oceans
to another dimensional paradise
he was chatty and I quiet
he was white and I black
he was old and I young
he was a man and I a woman
bonded with zest and humour

Arnold was strict and perfect
we met at local debating club
where we polished speeches
the little gems of impromptu
and the daunted evaluations
charming and complimentary
with an adventurous heart
and the pleasing easy spirit
of playfulness and success

Arnold and his plentiful gang
of competitive read speakers
always told me to slow down
I was a post-graduate trainee
wanting to brush my confidence
way back then when I stumbled
on that working men club
in the company of grey hairs
organised in eventful committees

Arnold saw roles changed
when after five long years
I was an elected president
the transformation of time
following radio interviews
back then when career drove
the foundations of many blocks
of habitual repetition and sweat
of sifting grime from the fire

Arnold always warmed up to me
kissed me on the  rosy cheek
he changed cars like clothes
and loved his dearly wife to bits
he has left a scent around my life
of a hope to love and build family
an ardent piano player and traveller
no wonder that church was so full
abundant with fond memories