A Little Dark Humour for You!
Angels Don't Have Wonky Eyes!

Going through those gates of pearl,
Sudden vision ,
Lovely girl!
Charismatic aura,
All smiling,
Glorious halo,
Supported by nylon strings,
Unreal!

Noted,
This nefarious fellow,
Shocked to end his days in heaven!
Spun round while greeted,
By angel discreet,

Realised revenge was truly sweet,
Ex-wife was angel he did meet!
Angel turned to him and smiled,
No longer meek,
No longer mild,
Really feeling rather wild!

Archangel,
Fallen came to fetch him
Gonna take you straight to hell,
Said she,

Had to create a little story,
Dedicated to his lost glory!

With a knowing wink and a glint in her eye,
She grabbed his arm,
Screamed,
Sorry honey,
We gotta fly,

He made her dance when she was alive,
The karma effect,
She had revived!

By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

i desire to relive
all our times together
g o o d   and   b a d
your splendor overwhelms me
my heart aches at the times
when you don’t regard me
or don’t see the subtle moves
of me trying to get nearer
sneakily brushing your arm
when it was easily avoided
these artfully planed gestures
filled with   l o v e   and   w a n t i n g
go unnoticed sometimes
my world breaks open
to let me fall in the gaps
where darkness resides

though there are better times
occasional times where
you
s
  e
    e
me
all of me
my gestures
my glances at you
times my
h e a r t   f i l l s
when a silent smile is shared
a meeting of our eyes
glint in your eye for me
my favorite is when
every time your warm body
t o u c h e s    m i n e
in an innocent touch
my entire being
wakes up
comes
a l i v e
i see the world
utterly wonderful
with you at its center

The windows to your soul
The things that betray you
The things that cause someone pain
They are actresses
Always putting on a show
They are beautiful
Like the glint of the knife
Deadly, but beautiful
But sometimes they disappear
From the world we know
To see things in another
But they always come back
To betray us again

Switching on to what turns me on
sees me glint colourful through porous escapades,
a rainbow flaunting  shamelessly elemental;
driven on waves of hormonal freedom,
naked this solace of self ..Simple.

Connections' conversely complex,
risk fraught ....risk need;
where loneliness stirs like my bare feet on sand,  
with hopeless toes that try to anchor if just for the turn of the tide
or until, ears attune to whispers of the changing wind.....
Here, waiting can see chance pass by the lazy heart,
tilted, heavy
in its overcoat of reluctance....
to offer, to call for; to act.

Thankful for the silence beneath my cloak 
that welcomes, accepts,
where freedom floats free over warring taboos locked
in rooms of unresolved pain.
Here,
most days I prevail,
a chaos of particles swollen by heat
I'm seen, spraying like hot mist speckled in rays of sunshine
that grace me a warm embrace, 
boundless,
I am charged and changed
in perpetual re-assemblance through lights and darks.

Glint

Reflecting mirrors,
Each leaf glints,
An illuminated individual
In a stadium pool of
Waving faces.

Paying homage by shining,
Mutuality of existence,
Chlorophyll for oxygen
Light for life,
A fair bargain.

I have this ache, Doctor. And so far, no amount of drugs or drink have been able to cure it. Where does it hurt, you ask? Why right here, Doctor. Right here in my chest.  It started feeling odd when I saw HER for the first time. It was a Thursday; August eighteenth of two thousand eleven I believe. I remember her perfectly, for I had not, and have not, seen anybody more beautiful in my life. Her auburn hair was  streaked with red and waterfalled  perfectly over her delicate shoulders, that were on that day cloaked in a blue jacket. Her long graceful fingers bloomed from slender palms and were crowned with an elegant black nail polish with a cracked silver finish. To this day, I have never so much as imagined anybody more perfect than her. So what's my problem? Well Doctor, she hates me. I can see it glint in her dark eyes every time she looks at me. Why is this? Why I have not the slightest idea. All I have ever been was polite to her. All I have ever been was kind. When she shivers I give her my jacket, regardless of how cold I am at the time. When she is hungry, I use my last dime to feed her. I do everything in my power to make her happy, make her laugh when pain adds weight to her shoulders. But I guess it just wasn't enough in the end. What do you prescribe, did you say? An entire bottle of pain pills and a slash down each wrist? That sounds about right. Thank you, my dear Doctor.

Your gentle breath
Stirs autumn leaves in the streets of my mind
Your eyes are so promising,
Rolling like newsreel camera,
Your pupils shifting like lenses
Their tender glint
Swears there is something better
Something bigger than this
Somewhere, perhaps soon
Somewhere the sparrows sing
Without cages
And the summers are blue
And the satin is black
Your hands on my back
Rub and comfort for what I will remember
Was an eternity
Someday maybe you'll sway with me
Sing, sing willow tree
We'll pretend
We've always swayed together
Maybe one day you'll engulf me
When I, fed to the tongues of fire,
Will turn my face to the flames
To the burning, divine kiss
But it would scorch my heart
With a single ember
Of a charred willow tree

I miss a warm body laying next to mine.
My single bed has never felt so lonely.
I long to wake to you wrapped around me like a cocoon
tight enough for me to know that you are too scared to lose me.
Holding on because you don’t want to fall.
I want to wake to you as if I’m unraveling from my cocoon
A beautiful mess.
Hair sprawled out on the pillow because there’s no room
To on the bed.
I want to see that cheeky little smile.
That magical glint in your eye
That reassures me of what’s to happen next.

Take me back to the rivers of belief,
to those cool waters from the cloud-piercer
when I was a boy and
the wheeling galaxies whispered
the secret of the suns
then, when the brown trout flashed
and I would splash the souls of girls
with the innocent wriggles of my dreams
and touch all the quivering kernels of desire
forever on those endless, flowing days.

Take me back to the cataract,
the campfires and canoes of that
caravan of golden times
when I could still hear the hoarse, hollow fluting
of the magpies and the crackle and pop of seed pods
on the hot, dry, dusty broom
that swept the whole world clean
then, when I was king of the cockabullies
along those crystal rivers.

But innocence is, well, so innocent,
and I couldn’t wait.
So I galloped reckless and heedless,
headlong across the bridge.

Then I saw armies on the march,
the glint of sun on weapons
washed in blood and I heard
the whirr of metal wings.
I witnessed wars, and then
bloated things came floating down the river.

I saw that love was a spectacle on screens
while sex was ashamed and hidden in the dark.
Violence ran amok and killers stalked the land.

So now I’m the messenger from the future
and I've come back to tell you this -
love and fear are intertwined, and
guilt is close behind.

I saw the pallor of the victims
and then I saw who held their chains.
I was haunted. They looked so, so
familiar.  It couldn’t be,
but yes, they looked like
you and me.

Mike T Minehan