I couldn't paint her in words and red
I could never explain in art what lead
her to me in this landscape of green and rain.
Her lake has a thousand colours,
her shapes would consist of every shape there is.

She is more than just the colours and the shapes
she is more than flesh and blood in covering drapes.

But she disappears every morning to return again at night.
She slips away comes right back slightly less prominent.

On that second day we are,
as free of risk as any day, but unaware
of the button to replay.

So we mutter on about
take it as it goes, what comes, he knows
whatever it is it'll be the right route.

And knowing is what lead me to her bed,
predicting as it was, seconds before, in my head.
I never told her what it was. I just accepted it.

Unreal it seemed, I'd do the same
just to see their affection. They came,
lined up as friends or family. I went,
when others weren't looking.

Little dots of light and energy, ready
to be little dots in some place new,
spreading their light and energy
and dottiness and the love they grew.

I wish to be a dot one day
but I have years to come.

Sometimes I run on grass to feel
the end of every story. I imagine
myself crawling on a sandy surface.
Breaks to plan steps or get a meal.
The schedule is without a finishing sin,
the road without a mark and helpless.

Are you waiting or
are you making efforts.

Are you running, is what I ask myself.
Motionless for more than hours I would reject,
even if you and I, we would connect.

I'll treat you as deserved when movement is observed.
I'll kiss you if you make your path.
Likewise you surround me as in lonely matter.
If I keep running you can call that my wrath.

Release my ashes in the winds of mars.
Fill my head with facts and ancient wars.
Drop me off at buildings where I remain
for hours until there is nothing left to gain.

I'll wear a hat and a robe
like many others roaming our globe.
Carrying a ticket, hidden in my frontal lobe.

Once I hopped off my bike and closed its lock
I'll understand no one has the right to mock
me for my inconsistencies.

I intended to be me
so let me be.

I've found my loveable distraction
For until next semester.
In this courtyard I am jester
In the other a simple contraction

Of a muscle deeply lain
By time ungodly strain
And barely managing to contain
Its unearthly fluid.

Its tissue's not the issue.
It's the impact of the brain
Turning this naive heart insane.

Asleep it's fine.
After dinner and wine
You make me want to intertwine.

Remove your shirt
And take my skirt

Dancing *****,
I bet Patrick's very girthy.

Not shaken, endlessly, mistaken, dead.
In nature I am sly,
when thinking rather shy.
Decisions in less than a day,
like whether or not you're going to stay,
should all be made alone on roofs.

I am the one who goofs.
Now please don't run away.
I can also take the check and pay.
You think of saying bye,
your clock says time to go back to my
not taken, hopelessly, forsaken, bed.

In the midst of rings they danced.
At night, when grey with all its might takes over.
In fog and mist and smoke and clouds,
at places surrounded by mossy trees and crows in crowds,
the cornerless figure of nature grows.

I saw them.
They were as in trance.
I fled because I didn't know their dance.

It's been so long, my love, since
I have longed for love like I did with you.
As lonely as the dog that guards the sheep
as shallow as myself, I weep.

For distant times and future rhymes.
My life is nothing more than just another
and I'm scared it'll turn out to be true.

I took you off the pedestal where you lived
I want you back but you're too heavy to lift.

It's hard to get rid of your taste.
My heart is pounding, I feel warm inside
but my skin is cold and blood is waste.
You make my pupils wide.
I need a second on the side.

Your country is unknown to me,
so are your inhabitants. I only recognize
your flag.

I wish I wanted to travel more,
or that you were a country more close to mine.

Yet water divides our common ground.

Her eyes were shaking, pushing out
the salty fluid, gliding down across her mouth.
Her knees were trembling, trying to control
the mixed emotions, emerging in her soul.

She was losing it, I couldn't watch, bear her state
of being crushed. I rushed closer, held her tight.
Even though I knew in different ways too late
I felt she deserved more than just one night.

As pretty as she was, as loving and friendly, as so
she was not accepting what I knew she understood.
Deeply do I respect, deeply do I crave to
go back and change something. If I could.

I wouldn't have made it go away,
I would have wished I had different things to say.

Asleep they slither through these streets
as sheep they seem to sleep when their sneaky
snaking threat retreats.

Useless in a way, like ants yet not per se.
Souls have fled the circular pattern, almost
all of them need glasses, to see, to grow blind.
It's a miracle how one does not lose his mind.

It's a hunt, a search, adventure for the lonely,
routine to bands of others. For treasure not a single
one will find if not a change occurs.

My chair is comfort, a zone I will not leave today,
tonight, I may.

I bit them off
chewed and chewed
and left with nothing
kept on chewing.

My teeth got crunched,
to destruction I lunched
and when finished
I noticed what had disappeared.

My fingers were shorter
and my face was pale.
I woke up to the sounds of tapping
imagined it were crowds of people clapping.

Imagined I was as magnificent as a two dollar meal.
The brown lettuce returned me to what was real.

Cardboard walls and clicking teeth, drops falling
on my worn out rags. If only I had had a calling.

Two lights, one car, they pass,
two eyes, one head, they see
two clouds, they fuse and be-
come one big fluffy cloudy mess.
they drift and float and leave our sight.

Trains and hours and days and youth
and beauty and life and love and tides and anything you can think of.
my studies, my words in wind, in ways I've sinned.

It all does, why can't you let it.

Two dots, one line. An offer to decline.
I wish I was a sailors boat, he'd guide me
and I'd still see the world.

Let's celebrate the ending, you're leaving,
the bonds you're bending, bonds conceiving.
Deceivingly easily yet not at all,
please tell me you're going to call
some time, somewhere in a hotel in France
where we'll share a first and last,
a chance to change the past.

It's strange how I, I know.
It's strange how you, we know.
Just go.

Instantaneously it fell apart
as if there was no future from the start,
gone so fast it seemed unreal,
life and death had made a deal.

Your passage was too short, potentially
one of the greatest. Eventually still.
We'll have trouble defining what it is
we're missing. Your name is the only thing

that seems to fit.

A walk with fire
to reheat and warm my heart.
A flight through wind
to blow away the sorrow from the start.
A swim in water
to help me breathe.
A walk on earth
to be guided safely

back to where I belong.

Beyond collaborations of strokes of brushes,
so much more than arranged word gushes,
she was a shipwreck off a rocky coast,
the work of art truly worth the most.

Different eyes adored her in different ways.
Still every lock of hair remained in place.
Humble in the walks she took, taking
every sound as evenly rare in making.

She was a mirror in a brighter light,
a piece of me returning, burning,
yet less prominent with every night.

Blown it reaches the skin,
****** it leaves you with a cold
surface and a head to spin
or a mind to bend and fold.

A mere man creates
from blood and flesh and sizzling brain cells,
things he states
so enigmatic it itself tells
on what his soul dwells
or has been for the past time.

It's not a matter of being able
I know I could, if I chose to so.
When the ways you love, though
seemingly doubtful or unstable,
are so attractive, you would not part
them. Don't let them mislead the heart.

As it is known to hand in mysterious roads
to you the knowledge but not insight.
As you search for perfection, you might
just see the the air escape her nose, up close
you'll notice the ways are written in codes.

I need this, I must have it right,
it has to work, it has to be, as planned.
Guidelines, steps and plans have died.
The dreams I had were canned.
Sold for a place in society's race.

I'd have to run to turn out first,
I'd have to finish to quench my thirst.
All I'd win would not be worth any more
than the dreams I had before.

I'd never doubt you, not at all,
you're lame but it's your call
you are and chose, you were but arose
and now you can't keep your cute little nose
away from me.

It's admirable.

Fairly fair and very verified will you spill your time
the thing thou'd be the hardest of hard to see
the mustard sandwich that is no wax of your bee
the beans you also, whereas worth no less than a dime.

You are a gem, my lady, rough and smooth,
you are surrounded, lady, by your very own root.

Our souls left our mouth, blending
like winter breath. Chemicals sending
signals obvious as colour of your skin
and eyes. The eyes my eyes are taking in.
In the smell of every word we speak,
the softly prominent smell you reak
of. Of every person, all or everyone around
it would turn out to be you. I wound
up with these flaws all tied together.

May we influence one another to be better.

Cover me like the veil of whiteness, warm.
Hold me, so vulnerable, yet free of harm.
I'll kiss you, may my mourning lips charm
straight to where your feelings swarm.

Come outside, with me and gaze upon
Come away with me and wander through
The land, the sky, the clouds, the grass.
Dazzling dreams of talking endlessly.

Close your eyes and trust my voice.
Let's conclude this affair with final sayings.
End the night of impulsive choice.
And decline the ways of sudden swayings.

Do you remember what you said,
recall your words smacking my head.

The harsh and deeply felt are a purity.
Your love for me was personal security.
Where I ly and laugh and dare to be.
Without the context we would have been
happy.

Her skin was showing blue and red
Her head was marked by a mark of the dead

She giggled a fake and horrible sound
Her body was nothing but suddenly bound

She took off her dress slowly but sure
Producing a sight no mere man could endure

Her ways were always like this
Impressing with grace and killing

with a kiss

How do I put it like it hasn't been before?
How do I say it without it tumbling into a bore?
How do I pronounce, in one word, what has to be heard?
How do I write in ways it will not be forgotten?

Is it metaphores like birds and flying?
Is it with fire of dire rhyming?
Is it rambling about loving or dying
or even such harsh expressions it is lying?

With bodies, with intertwining eyes, if not the rotting of a heart.
I'd try with poems, paintings and precious works of art.

But its purpose remains absent
like a dead language in the present.

There's a mountain here of dirt.
It's so filthy and muddy it's kind of absurd.
I am king and I lead. I'm generous to agree,
the less they bleed the better my degree.

I'm a student god, handling the basic 'how to do's'
of this dirt mountain not a single ant would choose.
My land is forsaken and I have to save
the lives of the useless and those of the brave.

My teacher god is greater, I cannot contain,
the things he does, the power he has, rain
or drought, floods and quakes, how do I maintain
the lives of the many. I'm no divine clerk.
It feels pointless when he influences anything I do.
I think I need to resign. But if I stop my work,
how can I believe he did not do too.

There she sat, across me in this train compartment.
She was a lot like I recalled, daunting,
how she almost, besides changes in deportment,
stayed the same. I forever keep on wanting
to tell her the truth.

All we do anymore is say hi,
while we used to talk for hours,
it has become easier to say bye.
There are greater love stories than ours.

It dazzles me to come across the facts,
we care less and less about the acts
so poorly put aside.
I think I lost, my love, so I'll let it slide.

Teach me, singer.
Teach me, lover.
Teach me, teacher.
Teach me, clover.

To sing about love,
to learn about luck.
Teach me to be
whoever I wish to.
However not to be alone...

I'll learn that on my own.

In pairs, they're notes with perfect sound,
alone, they wander and look around.
When the relation begins and starts,
they lose their training wheels, supporting parts.
What's left is left alone.
What's achieved is now to hone.
The center of their circles is only a dot
in the next. A brick they do and I have not.
When I am what I don't have but need,
I have myself and greed.
I am left and left without you
like waste, like lonely residu.

Your wretched eyes were truly
speaking, so very struck by the unruly
life you lead. The tears were wrinkles
and the shine your unreal smile.

One moment were these lines
in crossing. The best of signs
are those so very soon forgotten.
Because in a moment of distraction

you vanish in a crowd as loud
as screams your eyes emitted.
I'd do all to make a smile appear,

a real one, meant and felt but not
intended. Spontanious in the heat
of the moment would your pain be.

Whether it was his words
or the cold flake of wind, sent
to make a chill his spine descend.
His mind got divided in two different worlds.

As bumps arose upon his skin
he took the time to let the view in.
He looked too closely, too refined
in a way that every difference properly aligned.

Two friends in pink and red rehearsed
what they had read before he even had discovered
how this image of perfection frantically hovered
so far from his yawn and written cursed.

The cold did not emerge at once. The breath he throws
is visible and harmful though the proces slows.