Whatever it was
That my breaths came from,
You've change it.
You'll break it.
You'll make it again,
And I don't know
What's beating so fast
In my deepest parts
Since you've stolen my heart.

They played a love song in the car
The wife looked to her husband
The husband glanced back, before looking out far
To the road ahead.
My friend,
A world from her husband
Probably sat thinking of that distance.
They played a love song
And I thought of no one
Because I had no one to think of
As I have for so long.

With blood and love in his veins,
With power for the helpless and the hopeless,
The vain hero saves the same lives as the selfless.
Yet at a dinner these women
Sense something in his smell
As though he went off
On one of his adventures
Like milk left alone too long.

My eyes are pressed wet against their lids
Like beans in the pantry
And like a pantry, I'm ready for sleep.

My friend says he loves performance,
But my favourite part of a dance
Is forgetting everyone else in the room.
Remembering
Just me, my mess of a body and the tune.

I have nothing to lose really,
But I don't want to be
Turned away again
And it's part of my problem
With nothing to lose
I have nothing to offer.
So why bother?

I'm always happy staring at trees.
Conversations feel violent and unimportant
When no one agrees
On pety little bits and rants.
Poems can grow dull
And music can almost hurt
After long enough.
But trees simply lull me to a pleasure
I can't replace,
To a better place
Right where I am
Beside my friends
The tree and his leaves.

"Shut up!" I cried, as we children raced up
And down the hallway. He never gave up.
He never let me win. It wasn't fair.
Broken, indoor winds streaming through our hair.
We raced and raced and raced. Trails in the floor
Leveled by our vehement feet. Those closed doors
Where our mother's colleagues blocked out the noise,
Shutting out relentless cries from a boy
That would in distant days grow to be me.
I have an image of the place I see
As I close my eyes. A faded, dimmed reprise.
These old memories remind me of now
As now reminded of them
As yesteryears remind me of yesterday
And things I chose to say.
I recently called someone my family
And now I wonder if I have made the word cheap.
I don't have these memories
Not with my new company.

I have my acne medication
With chocolate milk
For balance like Budhism.
I have a niche,
I go to an Adventist church to practise my Spanish.
But I'm not Christian.
I'm interest in Arabic and Turkish
So I might become a temporary Muslim.
Unfortunately however,
All these religions have the same ending
With me dead and anywhere but Heaven.

Opinions splatter across my mind
Like graffiti on a sign
That gets harder and harder to conceive
But all the more interesting to see.

Don't take this the wrong way
But since I have nothing else to say,
It doesn't do any harm
But you see a girl who hasn't shaved her arm
And you just think "that's hair,
That shouldn't be there."
It's not a problem,
This isn't an accusation
Or a criticism
Or a part of any -ism,
Just a part of my experience
Of women with hairy limbs.

I watched skyscrapers
Batter the clouds which drifted lower
In elegantly soft head butts.
They appear, like the utterings of a mut
That puff into frost.
A paradise lost
As the only city in the sky
Are towers, built up high,
And higher they build
And higher they build
Up and up like Babylon,
Reminding of what was undone
In ages gone.

Stop thinking I only think
About *** and how to be ****,
I don't like the accuracy.
Stop thinking I only think
About *** and how to be ****,
Sometimes I actually attempt to be.

We snuck up like clouds,
Away from the music
And the constructions site sounds
That rumbled up the hill.
We used our jackets on the wet dew
To keep us warm, to make our soft picnic
And then with just me, the moon and you,
Stole a brief kiss.

I saw three black towers' silhouettes
Against a white light
Deep into the night.
We knew these were the bones of brick giants
From ages passed.
Before the steel spiders killed them all.
Before the steal spiders dragged their hulking bodies
To flattened the roads
And weft shattered glass, silver webs
Over and in every hole of flesh
In the old brick giants' remnants.
I lay a paw down and listened for a whistle
And knowing it wasn't to come, listened
To hear a stray cat's story teller tell the end.
Yet, great sprays of illumination
Splashed up on our secret meeting
And scattered us to the night.

She's a midnight coffee
And although I'll never get to sleep with her
She'll help me with my poetry.
This reminds me of a song, or the uttered
Idea that manifested in fantasies of a non-singer.
The story of a man who finds a trolley
Down in the river.
He decides to pull it from the debris.
For what a strange story it'd be.
So he could have that metaphor
For a speech or some eulogy.
About the trolley that was pulled up
Out of the river.
Because, he'd like to think
Someone would pull him,
Despite that he stinks and sinks and thinks
Too much on stupid stories.
I think I missed the train of thought there,
But here she comes again, so fanatically fair.

I seek a sleep so deep the seas seem to shrink
Beside that night, with white, silent, fire to drink,
From dark glasses resembling those trembling hearts,
We sold so long ago, alone in the dark.
The shade of flame and heartache rained like snow tries to.
We seemed to dream, quickly deceived that we'd too
Have these deep histories between you and me.
Sixteen, seventeen and soon we'll see eighteen
Leave. My ages like centuries bereave me,
This lost soul growing old, with no growth to show.
So, I'll seek sleep so deep oceans grow shallow.

I think humans are very silly.
I think we gave angels wings,
Then realising we were their only company,
Told them "Run! By God, run for your lives!"
Just to have them turn around and say
"Then why'd you give us wings?"

Steal slides silently
To lacerate the tender
Arteries and attack
Bones with a blatant stab.

I liked her. I guess. beep there's two problems.
First, beep speaks little English. beep would like
To think I beep quite big English. ehem
"Would you like two for one?" "No thanks. One's fine."
I mean we've spoken beep Spanish at least.
I beep that I speak un poquito beep Español.
The beep I seek's unknown to beep.
"Thank you! Have a nice day." Maybe I'm cold,
Desperate for a body to warm me.
There is a stiff breeze in this dark carpark.
Secondly, she's religious. I believe
She'll wait for marriage. So a dates the start
Of some far greater commitment. I mean
My Spanish is Okay, but not ready for eternity.

I am at such a point of unemployed and undesired,
That I am turned on at the same time as a lightsaber
And I care more for a Skywalker
Than for ***, money or any other transfer
Between one body and another.
In fact,
The only bodies I plan to explore
Are planets far beyond my ragged claws.

There was a light in the clouds.
We all felt it as it came
And forgot it as its sound
Faded, along with the rain.
The smoke cleared its throat and then
Dragon fire precisely struck
All the world at once.

My boldpoint booms like bazooka
In a silent movie.
My books takes off like a booking
For a spacecraft imaginary

Can life stop opening my eyes?
It's scary when I see.
Can life stop opening my eyes?
I'm trying to sleep.

In the day
When there's enouth light in the air
To bathe your every inch of skin and wave
Of hair.
That's when you have to be perfect
When everything shown must catch the eye like a net.

Yet in the night
When I walk alone by the streetlights
And the light is scarce,
I just want just enough
To shine on your smile,
To see it gleaming white
And more importantly,
Happy.

There's a haunted door in my house.
I hear it rattle and shake, all throughout.
Maybe there's a human there,
Locked inside and scared.
Maybe that's what's it like to be gay,
In secret, with hands battering at the closet.
Something's licking at the ****.
Something's tongue's a flicker
And even from your bed
You feel it's hunger.

Meanwhile your too scared to even look that way,
Down the hallway.
Convincing yourself that desperate whimper
Was just the wind or a nightmare.

I cried during the movie Step Brothers,
And I must warn for spoilers.
Basically, a girl I like called me a loser.
I wasn't a hard worker, not anymore.
I was without an employer.
I didn't focus on academia.
I didn't focus on anything more
Than being a writer.
I knew I was probably gonna die poor.
Then I watched Step Brothers
And here were these losers
And I just watched and as I did, all i could remember
Was "You're a loser."
Then I sank further and further
Into self pity. Flattened and weaker.
Then Will Ferrel sang 'Por Tí Volaré'
And I felt a tear…
And another
And another
And all together,
In this fall of water
And for some reason,
One moment of pure beauty
That wasn't ashamed to be comedy,
Like that part of Shrek 2 with 'I Need A Hero.'
It magically, shamelessly,
Lifted a shadow
From me.

I like to retreat into my head at times,
The background sounds like a breeze of night
Flowing through my brain.
My mind a great open plain
With nothing to worry about at all.
My view, all these shapes, colours and transferals,
Where people and places used to be.
I like to be inside my head
Especially
When there's nothing thought or contemplated.

I've crucified my left hand
And I'm trying to strum a guitar with the other.
In the middle, I could understand
If someone thought my mouth's made to be a gospel singer
But instead it just sighs
"Mum, can you sign this?"
What a sacrifice?
What a waste?
At least, this poem's written online
So it doesn't waste a page
Of paper.

"IF I die,"
I replied.

Lick a nicotine lollipop coz that sounds cool.
Kick start a guillotine to drop out of school.
I'd rather you judge 'drunk me' than 'bored me.'
That's not true but it's catchy.
Tell yourself you're filling your life with spice
As each season goes by as recklessly wasted time.

When it was dark and decayed
I once crawled to the deepest peak
In my heart of rock and clay.
There was a great black sea
Expanding beyond me.

I had been saving a bundle of fireworks
Ready to set them off with a kiss,
As I was told to by all my unsung teachers.
But finding myself so foreign from bliss
I threw the fireworks to the abyss.

Then far up on the surface
A single finger touch my face.
Then from a spark echoed a thunder bolt
That split my heart in half,
A sheen beam of lightning
To ignite…

A thousand sparks of green, red and gold
Danced like a rainbow
No longer segregated to one flow.
Each streaming particle
Of blue through to purple,
Wobbled like feathers on Angel wings
Settling after flight.

I still had to climb back down the mountain,
I still had to do it myself,
But the way was bright,
And I now knew why I should do it.

I don't think of her like a desire.
I think of her as an option.
Thinking time and time again
I guess...

Today, I napped,
So some demon snatched
My sleep for the night
In a three hour snap;
And you can say that wasn't very bright
But it was when I napped
And now it's dark at home
And I'm all alone.

I don't mind my life
With an invisible brush
Behind every shade and light.
I like my life
With a blossom and blooming flower
In every manhole cover
And shooting stars
In everyone's headlights
Rushing by like fiery eyes or fireflies.

If there is a soul above,
In the heavens
With veins of silk magic and white,
If he has found me to love,
I don't mind him so much.

And if not, then now is enough,
Enough time not to mind my life.

I always flush the toilet
Before I use it.
An old habit
From years of finding the ****** bit
Before I ever got a chance
To feel relief.

The rabbits gathered on the shore
Like small, restless pebbles.
She was so unsure.
Were we to tremble?

The sea, she welcomes me.
She is so sure.
But she is so very elderly.
Perhaps she only appears to be so sure.

If only I owned this wide life.
With all its tides and strides and strife.
The dust swindled in the wind.
I should be so living. I should be so alive.

I should be sewn into this tapestry.
I should be so very calm.
The current in the water
Unaffected by the waves.

Cold is the dawn that rises to raze.
Old the worn and woven waves,
Sure of their destination
To damnation against the barren stone.

Cupid has missed my heart
And pinned me through my spine
To the wall. My back bone is but shards
And my legs dangle, paralysed.

All because I left open the window
To let the cool change through.
I gave the winged fiend his show
And he has killed me with the view.

The cool change came
And so has the rain.
So have the snakes
And creatures of the blue.
My red mixes and my body’s but food.
My red fades and my bones are but a buoy.
I have let my body want with but eyes and wither
As though I have painted myself red and died of anaemia.

Take one of those hot days
When it's fun to be mindless,
When thinking's the only way to feel your pain,
So you lose your mind on purpose.

Take a taste of meaning.
Enjoy flying like a limestone,
Stationary until some wise being
Picks you up and your thrown.

Chisel your own name
Into a comments section
For the fame
Of three idiots appreciation.

Take a beer to spare
And spend your life
Dancing, prancing like a mare.
Take some bad advise.

In one of those nights where your eyes are useless
But to feel wetness, pooling, cooling your skin,
There's a song of images that won't progress.
There are thoughts paper thin and all is dim,
Yourself included.

There's a cool beach.  
There's someone to share the deep.
There's a tender reach.
There's the ocean
Pooling, cooling your skin.

Pulling back the curtains
Stops the performance,
And all is dark,
As though cold tar.

That **** Cupid's at it again.
But this time he hasn't gone for my heart.
He aimed at my eyes and went straight through them,
Getting my brain as well. The **** which was smart
Is permanently dumbfounded.
Oh, to be so brain dead.

Please, pardon my prayer,
Leaking from lips like grease from hair,
May Apollo ride along,
May muses fill me with song,
May Zeus strike me with the creative spark,
May Cupid strike my heart,
Till my shin, legs and shredded head
Lie in decomposing composition,
Yet let my tongue live longest
To taste that inspiration.

I carry my ukele to the toilet after midnight
So if monsters attack
I can threaten them with a beating
And if they aren't scared by that
I can play it.

If I can do it, I love what I do.
If I don't get lost looking for reasons to.
If paper skyscrapers don't get in my way.
Finding nothing in intervening grey
Streets, like dull, entangled, eternal snakes,
Struggling to seem even more static.
But when I'm not doing everything I do,
I really do love what I do.
Don't you?

I do?
What commitment is my life?
What conviction is my life?
'I'?

A fly dots the paper white wall.
So close to real, he might even fall.
The paint of that splot
All but taking off.

There was one,
Infinite and singular.
Who split in two.
One was the mother.
One was the son.
One was the father
One was the daughter too.
One pulls strings from the null
And played a tune
So one would sleep,
Dreaming of the song,
Of stars across the dark sky,
And a thousand sparkling eye
To see them through.

Let me say 'farewell', old friend.
As though you could hear so far.
Let my gentle wish to see you again
Not be shun upon by the real's dark part,
That part between us. Let me draw the rust
Into something sentimental.
Do not stir within my dreams so hushed.
Do not leave me so ill.

The entire night sky.
The deepest of the sea.
A sheet of leaves.
All could be the distance
Between you to me.

I will not waste this wish of farewell
On you.
I will sprinkle it on myself
Like a honey dew
To sweeten and glue
These broken pieces.
Sing a lullaby. Bring him by.
In my dreams at night.
So that I may rest.

Goodbye, old friend.
I'll remember you,
And if the years allow you to,
Come back and spend
An hour with me, just one or two.

I watched the soldier, fallen
Aloft the absorbent green.
When will I be forgotten?
I once said of memories
They are dead things hung on walls
Drawn from imagination.
How will time, after I fall
Withdraw my memorium.

I once thought the past was dead,
Stiff, motionless in the grave.
I now see the past lives yet,
Onward, unchanging to wave
No flags of dull surrender
Whether or not we remember.
It is not that the song is sung of us
But that we have sung
And we let others sing
While we each have a time
To draw ourselves into eternity.

The train hit me
With the ocean's blues.
Blows from sad songs, deep
As an ocean tune
Pouring through shells.
Deep as empty wells.

The key was patience
But now it's courage
I left on the bench
In the last carriage.