I watch you sleeping,
Impossibly long eyelashes, black as rooks
flutter against yesterday's sun blushed cheeks,
small digits twitching,
right thumb firmly in mouth
suckling salt soaked skin.

You are the sea my boy,
the earth, the moon and stars.

I sip at my coffee,
eyed by Spiderman
as the Joker grins
and the Riddler envies Dr Seuss.

This moment is perfection,
a little bit of calm
before the tornado hits
with the blue of your eyes.

At my side the Demon writhes forever,
Swimming around me like impalpable air;
As I breathe, he burns my lungs like fever
And fills me with an eternal guilty desire.


Knowing my love of Art, he snares my senses,
Appearing in woman's most seductive forms,
And, under the sneak's plausible pretenses,
Lips grow accustomed to his lewd love-charms.


He leads me thus, far from the sight of God,
Panting and broken with fatigue into
The wilderness of Ennui, deserted and broad,


And into my bewildered eyes he throws
Visions of festering wounds and filthy clothes,
And all Destruction's ****** retinue.

21 years of age, haven't rose with the sun for more than a while now, stretch those aching bones and rise with the fresh warm breath of the morning air.

Twenty-second of June  two thousand and fourteen. Cultures dead, the whole world has become an immersion of postmodern irony and sensuality evaporates like tender droplets of the heavenly sky's tears, what's new?

Tender black coffee morning, velvet aromas of something that could only feel like home.  Getting up and getting ready to tap keyboards and snap fingers, always on the periphery of that feeling of eureka moment madness, all creative and hopeful, hungry and *****.

Friends and foes accepting fates, watching the dreamy eyes glimmer and dissipate before me, killing me with sadness. It's a lonely world and the machines comforting kiss of conformity is all too tempting, to some at least.

The hours of the day, slip by. Procrastination greeting me, I don't feel like writing today. Slide into comfort and let it beat you around the back the head with its big pillow hands of complacency. You know you're not the only one and hey you're not doing as bad as that one guy you know.

evening, I have something in my pocket that has my whole life inside. I have digital extensions of my being and I check them like a notification ******, searching through the complaints and opinions of all who talk so much and say nothing at all.

twenty two minutes past 10 in England, the night puts on his cape and his heart falls out, I look at you and feel everything. how many of you lonely dreamers all around the world are looking with me, living in your beautiful minds with all your beautiful dreams, all of us are alive together and the stars wink at us and the trees breathe with us and we're all electric with life, universal current oh boy won't you flow through me tonight.

I may cry
when you pass.
don't be fooled
it's not for you.

It's for the father
I should have had,
the father I deserved.
That's what I'll grieve
not you.

Never you.

What's there to miss?
I can do without you
making me feel awkward,
ignored,
an inconvenience.

Can you understand my view?

There were no cuddles
for me,
no tenderness
or tender words.

I did not even want you
to 'give me away'
on your only daughters
wedding day.
Escaping abroad
escaping feeling ignored.
You lost all rights
to hand me over
to another man
that would protect me.

You never got that right
did you?
Couldn't even protect me
from yourself.

So I sometimes think
about your health,
you, drinking yourself
               to
                    d
                      e
                  ­      a
                          t
                            h­

Not sure how much more
your old and bitter body can take

and I wait* ......