It all became a void
as i fell backwards
endlessly
among the rocks that chimed
I told myself
"ive been here before"
and allowed myself to fall

It seemed to go on endlessly
tumbling, not breathing.
I was sure this was it
the end of something
but
just before the surrender
the moment of death
I faltered
I was afraid

The layer upon layer
that seemed to then become
a dream I could not wake from
kept running, fleeing.
Looking for the door
that has all the light
or dark

Even now, someone smirks
"you are still dreaming"
I laugh and agree
how would i know the difference?

My blood flows with gold
my fingers alight with fire
it propels and consumes me
to an all encompassing desire.
Completely in the wind,
utterly in the rain
A sweet abandonment
into the delightful pain.
My skin - too tight
My movements - too constrained
Even a bellow from a mountain top
leaves this feeling untamed
A power so wild
so ferocious, yet so compressed
wails at the boundaries
of the unexpressed.

Why do I choose to suffer my freedom?
   Is it familiarity? A self-created religion?

I bind myself, to myself, using my own hands.
  I struggle to look through my own fingers.

Is it because I can't see? Am I in a dream?
  Where is the edge? Where is the seam?

I pretend to be distressed and myself believe
  Its all I've ever known, the stories of someone.

I carry on, holding tight, writing more lies
  A twisted *******, an inversion of life.

I catch glimpses of release, the gaps in my hands
  Yet as soon as I forget, I go back in.

How can you fight something you've created?
  How destroy the already annihilated?

Nothing but questions, answers are worthless.
  Nothing makes sense, not even these verses.

As the stars creep out from the vast black ink,
your name I see written in a language with no words
and when it is time, for the light to swallow and drain

O that horrible bright masks all with blue and white.
your name remains, faint, and in most views gone
but my love shines a darkness, creating
my own night sky.

Your silent name will forever speak in my soul.
Even when all seems to be gone.
in the brightest of days, I will still see the stars
that forever sleep and wait for you.

It seeps into my body like an invisible ink
following all the misleading signs of my mind.
I try not to listen to its absurdities
I try not to be afraid if they are true.
But I can’t help but wonder
Do they know something I don’t?

My logic often gets in the way,
constantly in disarray.
I beg my heart to listen to my head.
My head tells my heart to listen up good.
But my heart...

That cavity in my chest that brings me so much unrest.
It makes me cower in its power. It owns me
Something deep inside.
A force so abundant I struggle to hide.

It knows.
Everything.
I can feel it.
And is wrenching me apart.

Its not enough.
Doesn't fill my veins with the right kind of blood.
Its too thin,
Pleasures of this kind of life leave me slain.
I would rather have pain, intense pain.
Than this normal feeling.  

Life is not meant to be a stroll
but a panicked tumble into the unknown.
Full of wonders and delight and confusion
and well I don’t even know

I would love to open my eyes
Really really wide
See what is right in front of me.
What my heart can see and I now I bleed.

My hands caress a body that is controlled.
But inside lays such a storm.
It is scratching on the walls of my skin.
It sends messages through the breath going out and in.
It allows little whispers to flow through my heart to my head.

Unless you are totally alive then you are part dead.

Come the time,
Come the time,
It all makes sense
In that finite line.

Is it really that tomorrow never comes,
when have you last experienced today?
we are living in a historical prediction,
one with constant revision,
and relatively blunt precision.

If you choose to discard all that which you have marred,
smudge with thumb into a softer shade,
standing back and admire your piece,
knowing such things helps men die in peace.
ahhh that final fade…
Come the time,
Come the time,
It all made sense,
All is me that is mine.

The temptation to desire,
the desire to abstain.
Fuelling all that burns,
I Must win the game!

Goes the time,
Goes the time
All I made is cents.

All that I have, eats me now.
wraps its lustful tongue
around my dusty neck
living out the rest in goodwill.
Now is the time,
Now is the time,

Now is time!
Now is time!

STOP

eyes as eyes.
  hands as hands
touch so dry
  evidently bland
lips as simple
  as your reflection
obvious and transparent
  strenous affection
good as bad
  bad as worse
sweet as sour
  love as curse
walk away my dear
  while you still can
I'm the hourglass
  You're but a
grain of sand...

A foolish heart knows no bounds,
falling over and over
like a gentle whimper of a child
but yet,
still looking up with a vulnerable hope
a yearning questioning
for the affection
of the averted gaze.

A foolish heart sees no truth,
staggering in a room full of thorns
only to proclaim
that the spaces between
are whispers
silent expressions of
a secret love
that they wish to see.

A foolish heart hears no rejection,
for its all a projection
of a nightmarish confusion
while the truth
no matter how sought for
suffocates
at the seam,
and the foolish heart continues
on with its caramel dream.

A foolish heart does not fear pain,
for that is where it sleeps.
No, a foolish heart,
fears the end,
it fears the death
of its very own breath.
Where the illusion is broken,
and all that remains
Is a plain human being.
A foolish heart wants to stay foolish
for it’s the most alive its ever been.

The beginning of the end,
my dearest friend,
how can I explain
that which I cannot comprehend?

These sensations calling themselves out,
Sight, sound, smell, taste, touch.
They all conspire against me,
to make me want too much.

All the while I lay in darkness
painting a coat of dream upon dream,
I cry and scream against myself,
searching for a light at the seam.

Its all a reflection, a mirage
the flickering of lights so blue,
but the closer I bring my hands
I lose the space between me and you.

We are all but an extended reaction
No raw meaning, just sign upon sign.
And our drawings we desperately analyze,
circles we call space and lines we call time.

I object to the objective,
I am desperately trying to see
How to be blind of sight,
and become reality.

What lies in your eyes
are the lies that I despise
doesn't come close
transparent as a politician
yet I still listen
in hope that my optimism
can twist it
into something I can believe.

Your smile can erase
every trace
of my abiding detestation
for something as smile
for a moment
for a while.

I trust the haze I feel
the curtains which in my heart
only absorb the light
in my mind
I know there is only the devastation
of your cold night.

You come and you go
like a temperamental tide.
A slightest change in wind
you quickly retire.

Back within your darkness,
the stillness and the cold.
All for what reason?
A freedom so called?

As you pull back into your distance
I'm left to stand knee deep.
My dress dancing upon the surface
of the water you keep.

My arms drop to my sides
and my hair sticks to my lips.
The ones that you deserted,
the ones you could have kissed.

I don't cry for you.
I don’t bother to wave.
I was your choice to run
It was mine to stay.

As the moonlight draws my face
upon the black canvas of your night.
I stare in total awe.
In surrender.
You will not find me later.
In case you feel you were wrong.
For the same tides that saved you,
will wash my footprints gone.

I decided that it was time.
It’s as simple as that
just closed my eyes.
It was dark.

The thoughts that intruded
seemed but a hum
just closed my mind
it was strange.

With full conviction
I walked out of myself.
just around my room
until I was ready.

The dream had begun
the halls flicked with mist
I inched in anticipation
to the front door.

The door revealed
or was it my mind?
A purple world
my coloured canvas.

I chose to make the sun rise
but found it to dim
so I rose another, his brother
and exploded him.

The light shattered me
my heart in awe
Knowing without a doubt
I created what I saw.

Demon tree,
Don't you dare sway for me.
Your frozen seed, the cold you bleed,
Will only produce
Catastrophe.

Demon tree,
Don't you sigh for me.
A robin's song, rays so warm.
Will never penetrate
A lead canopy.

Demon tree,
Why must you wait for me?
Trunk so mute, leaves destitute.
Must I climb you
To be free?

Of all the things,
I could do.
I choose the one way
I can’t go
Its always that
Little grasp further

That little breath more
That little horizon deeper

And so I search
Endlessly for that thing
That will begin
The end of suffering
I yearn to feel
That intensity alive
That fire of life
That enveloping bite

It carries on and on
There is no fill
There is no song

Its all just another hole
That leads away
From my soul

I need that real kiss
I need that true bliss
I can’t stand this

Let me feel it.

Sunshine comes in,
jump on the masters bed.
They push me off disgruntled,
I wince off to my end.
I sit on their paws,
while he shakes the grey sheet up.
And she opens her box,
while sipping her white cup.
He mumbles and she whines
while I look with depth,
I try to get attention
but back to bed I get sent.
Why are these humans so...
angry and confused?
I do exactly what they say,
yet my yelps seem refused.
Then with a groan,
I seem to be handed a toy.
But I'm not a pet mum and dad,
I'm your baby boy.

The wavering mystical man decided to carry his bag to the place he knew so well
                                           his chair that sits like an indivisable, inseparable part of his living room
that is the centre of his universe and the warm of his comforts
                                            he decided most days to relish in his most cozy of cushions
but today was a special day, he had used his soft scarf and his well worn hat
                                it was the day for the mink blanket oh yes. Next to the fire that lights his happy face.
In his heart, chocolate melts, in his eyes, champagne is spilt.
                                the book shelves flicker with a giggle in their pages
the stove top quietly whistles, twisting with the most delightful smells
                                      The rain outside, drumming to his hum, his feet kicking and tapping his thumb
its all okay, alone and happy to be, the chair, the man, his blanket and his tea.

The lips that seal,
seep no dirt.
The eyes that shut,
see no hurt.
The ears turned out,
hear no lies.
The hands laced back,
feel no flies.
The nose turned up,
smells no muck.
The fingers crossed,
avoid back luck.
The mind kept mute,
sleeps in bed.
What is left,
might as well be dead.

You Mr Rabbit are or so nice
I could drink tea with you
and talk about rice
or melons,
growing in the summer sun
but Mr Rabbit, I couldn't *******.

Dear Mr Rabbit, sorry to be calling so late
I feel like we left off on a bad foot
the carrots still hot on my plate
as you pointed
towards your rounded door
and asked me kindly to scoot.

No I understand it was rude
and that we have had a delightful eve
but, hmm, how do I conclude
you're lovely
and sweet as a bug
but I can't see us making out on that rug.

No please don't be offended!
Your ears are so soft to touch
and your eyes are to be commended
but, sexually
the lightning and fire
well, doesn't amount to much.

I bid you adeu, Mr Rabbit.
Our time together was truly splendid
but it must be said,
that without the waistcoat
you remind me an awful lot of my bed.

Left, right, left, right.
Darting from track to track.
They wind and intertwine,
join and turn back.
Around and around,
tiresome and lost.
Following false signs.
Creating, illuminating,
ignoring and disintegrating,
never ending cycle of
thought.

.. silence..

An Opening - a Clearance
Death? Disappearance?
No, just the sweet caress
of sleep.

It can't be real. Life. Love. Whatever. It turns its head with the slightest change in breath.
Makes it all seem irrelevant. Or relevant. Or both.
The specifics alter the hue.
The weather sets the tone.
The tears trickle down and out of the mess that made them.
I love him. No I don't. Yes. No. Maybe?
Doesn't exist.
Maybe...
Is it solitude I fear?
What fills my heart, empties my eyes.
What fills my mind jingles like loose change.
Using it when the small thing catches my attention.
What can I extract from this? How much juice can I drain from this blossomed thought?
This sparkly idea.
Colourful nothing.
Love never hurts. Not being allowed to love is agony.
Not being able to express it - torture.
Head first dives - cold water fills the nose and eyes.
I'm wrong. Most of the time.
Well, I'm not right. I lie mainly to myself.
And you sometimes. When reality jabs my side.
What's best for me? Who cares.
I have to go make dinner and read an article on happiness.

The darker it becomes
the more you open your eyes
only to see what you knew fade away.
Yet when there was light
you forced with all your might
to see nothing at all.

I am a slave.
A slave to the ideas that I’ve called my own.
I’m a slave to the qualities I call home.
I am a slave to my beauty, a slave to my mind.
I am following the tail of the ignorantly blind.
I pretend to have a purpose.
A thin skin on the surface of the deep.
Beneath only hollow blackness
– the bottomless ocean, the reasonless street
I think I know more now than I did as a kid.
Truthfully though,
I bow down to the uneducated.

Dismember the sky
removing all its cherished guides
Under your thumb, blacken,
the controller of the tides.

Moving onto the illuminaters
that race with fire and tail,
blowing out its sparkling heart,
never again to see its trail.

Finally turning towards the one
the closest to our skin
Trample his shining glory,
enter the nightmare of unawaking.

Now blinking in your darkness
I want you to reach out and find
that one hand that forever waits
even when life has hurt you blind.

Kiss me or not, its sort of just fine.
I want to call you twice a day
sometimes you don’t talk very much
I linger so you will see my good side
but I often forget
that you can see me.

Inside me there's a little world
it touches yours by a little door
of words and touch
I miss you when you shower
or when you dream
but missing you is just fine.

All the filler words are kind of funny
when you line them up.
None of it really matters
its just for fun. Weird fun.

In the end, if you see yourself,
the way that I see you
A beautiful living being
then kiss someone else I don’t mind.
Its worth it.

Jump into that shattering window
Jump into that dark void
selectively pull out the finger nail
that remains stuck at the base of your spine
Pull the hair off the old troll doll
Until her eyes seem far to large, far to bright
The colours of the room allowed to merge
who gives a ****, its still full of light.
Beat the box against the wall,
watch it curve, the contrarious fall.
With you fingers, follow the lines
up the side and back of the spine
Then strip the pages, open and bare
Inhale the worlds lingering in there.
When the madness thickens the air
Laugh, cry, sing and die.
Don’t stop to wonder why.
Your palms are enough
Your own two hands can bare
To create whatever breathes in there.

Changle changle, Chain chain.
Jingle like that loose brain
The sounds of coins, full and dense
Tasting all that decadence.
Inertly, following I not must
allow that gentle heart to rust
The hole, may not of course be true
but it's reality brings
terrible news.
If this book, which it is just that,
is not fiction, but after all, a fact
That is the worst, yes, indeed
For we are all bound by our greed
We must obey, the words, the facts
Those undoubtable, untouchable
unseeable artefacts.
Yes, hell for you. And you. And you.
Heaven for me and those who agree
That some-man-in-the-sky-decided-that-he-wanted-us-to-be
Free?