I wake up,
as the sun is still in the sky,
and I'm not sure what time it is.
I stare at the clock,
but the numbers are not there,
and the radio spots gibberish.
I try to move my toes,
but my hands move instead,
and I can't get the hang of it.
So I roll onto my side,
stare out the window,
and think I'll try sing a bit.
But the words don't make a sound,
and I can't think where I am,
I'm not sure about anything.
I try to remember your name,
but I only remember pain,
and so I try to get rid of it.
So stare out at the sun,
sitting sweetly in the sky,
not thinking 'bout the other bits.
I close my eyes,
with the sun between my ears,
and I guess that I'm full of it.
I drift into sunshine sleep,
let my thoughts grow wild and free,
if only for a little bit.
Sep 29, 2016
Sep 29, 2016 at 10:38 AM UTC
Millions of stars.
Shooting,
Falling,
Granting wishes
All around me,
But only one
Lit up
My sky.
I chased it
Blindly,
Dancing on
The moon,
Swinging on
Saturn's rings,
And searching
Through endless
Galaxies,
But I never
Could quite
Hold it
In my palm
To glow
Brightly in
My hand.
I think now
That maybe
Perhaps
You were
That one star
That my arms just
Weren't meant
To reach.
Close.
Close enough
To be warmed
By your light,
To be changed
By your beauty,
But only to admire
From a distance,
Millions of
Light years away.
Aug 19, 2016
Aug 19, 2016 at 8:23 PM UTC
I wonder about the rain
A good deal more than any sane person should
The way it falls
the inevitably of it
down
down
down
and then
crash
And just like that
It's as if it never existed
What if we're all just raindrops
falling for what mistakably
seems like forever
and then
boom
nothing
the only thing left
being the size of our splash
Memories become
molecules we happen pick up along the way
It must be hard
when you're falling
to think of anything but the ground
who cares about where you fell from
or the places you've transversed
when the only thing in front
is solid asphalt
What I'm saying is
What if we're just raindrops
inevitably falling
and if that's a fact that will never change
what good does it do
to overthink
to stress
to doubt yourself
When in the end
we're all just a splash on the pavement
Aug 1, 2016
Aug 1, 2016 at 6:40 AM UTC
I woke up blurry eyed to the syncopated screaming of my Casio clock.
But I didn't mind,
because in 2 hours time
I'd see those pretty green eyes
and you'd finally know how much I've changed.
And to the beeping of my Casio clock
I remember the 4 page apology about being a Casio ****
But I didn't mind,
Because in 1 hour and 59
minutes time
I'd no longer be searching to find a way to say what's on this paper I've signed and we can be friends.
I look in the mirror and I look like **** to be honest my looks haven't changed a bit but I've bought these ******* expensive jeans,
the same ones that haven't been cleaned since I kneeled down in your ***** and cleaned
the bits
from your lips and stroked your hair whilst I waited for an ambulance to come.
But you wouldn't remember that.
And so today would be the first day of light you've seen reflect from my skin since you gently peeled me off like a used band aid.
But I didn't mind,
because in 1 hours and 29
Minutes time
You'd remember why you ever held my hand
And
Even if it takes ten years id work to become something worthy.
So with my unclean jeans on I spray some of that same genre of deodorant,
Clean my teeth freak out about forgetting a haircut and say **** it at least I found ten dollars for the train fare.
And with my **** hair I didn't care,
Because in 40 minutes id be there,
And breathe the same air
The burning stars we once shared,
And so I check the time,
And so lose my mind
As the train arrives in about 5,
Seconds.
And I watch it race away from me as I sprint through the rain in my special suede shoes.
And as I walk in cold boots
I realise, that I don't mind
Because in 29 minutes time
I'll be lost in the warmth of your eyes
So I jump on the next train
And the officer decided to pick my brain
And I have to get of the train,
In the rain,
To buy a ticked again,
Because I don't look 16.
But I don't mind because in 19
Minutes time,
I'll be with that one perfect kind.
So I squeeze the letter in my pocket as I finally jump off at Perth station.
Pulsing with anticipation,
I run without a pinch of patience
Through the rain under a storm,
And I'm finally here.
I look around.
I sit down.
And you're nowhere to be found.
Jul 31, 2016
Jul 31, 2016 at 12:23 PM UTC
Listen to the wind,
Softly kissing your window.
Watch the warm glow,
Of an oak-mounted lamp.
There's poems on the walls,
Fan hangs from the ceiling,
Your hands smell like flowers,
Scratching sound of writing.
The howling of windy treetops,
Still hums from outside;
But it's warm in here,
And you will be ok.
Jul 25, 2016
Jul 25, 2016 at 7:40 AM UTC
we ran blindly
like lost children
into the warmth of each other's arms,
we grew lost
in the moonlight tangles
of hair and shivering fingertips,
but were we deaf ?
to the rain that began to scream ?
louder than those burning breaths ?
for alone now, we shiver.
no longer in love with goosebumps.
but cowering from this storm -
the whIRLWind of our souls.
Jul 25, 2016
Jul 25, 2016 at 7:33 AM UTC
I keep your memory
In the ashes of a cold fireplace,
Next to which, I sit;
On the cool cabin floor;
Dreaming of spring shine.
Whilst the world outside,
Softly whispers melodies,
of snow sung winds;
Dancing through pine trees,
Like fireflies in the dark.
Yet I have still, a heart of flint,
That sparks in the moonlight,
Upon souls of silken steel;
Thawing these pine wood bones,
Damp with the windy winter.
But ****** be these winds,
Which claw colder than ice,
Upon Crimson cabin walls,
That shiver in the snow;
Tangled up in blue-stained starlight.
So here, I sit dreaming,
Of spring shine from the east,
Of a roaring fire inside my skin;
As the memory of this fireplace,
Melts into a child's laughter.
Jun 12, 2016
Jun 12, 2016 at 10:14 AM UTC
If your fingertips
are feathers,
and my chest is
the sky,
and our hearts
beat wild,
as a dove learns
to fly;
Would you take away
my breath,
like a gunshot in
the evening,
whisper in
my ear,
soft words
screaming;
Would we melt into
the twilight
night sky entwined
with feathers,
our cheeks burning
bright as
the most passionate
of weathers;
Would we flutter through
that linen,
singing songs of
burning love,
and into that
night sky,
fly as graceful
as a dove.
Jun 7, 2016
Jun 7, 2016 at 12:25 PM UTC
Go forth, sleepy child,
Through those howling winds
That dance to the endless night;
Thumping thuds of a lions heart,
Pouncing down the hills.
Go forth, sleepy child,
Through the shattered glass rain
That soars through a smoke-stained sky;
Like ten thousand exploding stars
Still mourning for the sunset
Go, find thy bed of crimson joy,
Though the question may be cold,
And the darkness may be deafening,
As the spaces between words,
Stretch between galaxies.
Go forth, sleepy child,
Through the blinding night,
Those howling winds.
Go, find thy bed,
of Crimson joy,
And sleep,
My child,
Sleep.
Jun 5, 2016
Jun 5, 2016 at 2:11 PM UTC
Well if love's like an ember in the evening rain, and the stars in the sky are calling your name, I'll fare thee goodbye as you fly from my hands, and I'll melt like ash into the evening sands.
And if I see you a flight in the stars above, soaring through dreams my green eyed dove, I'll smile in the moonlight and throw up my hands, and melt like ash into the evening sands.
How many seas must my white dove sail, how many years my heart grow frail, 'fore she sleeps in the moonlit warmth of my hands, and we melt like ash into the evening sands.
Jun 1, 2016
Jun 1, 2016 at 10:20 AM UTC