In the warm dark depths of you
I listen; my breath creates an echo
deafeningly silent.

I have lounged in here for so long
A lifetime of twilight
Yet secure I am.

Kicking               away
I explore my universe
Your voice creating a vibration across my feet.

Planting my foot into my mouth
Sprinkling the seeds of awakening into my heart; my legs are growing in breadth. Flesh is forming in my chest.


A harsh white light pierces my chamber.

Struggling, I cry to get out.
I lean towards an opening-
Something cradles me, the feeling uncomfortable.

I squeeze through!
Leaving my galaxy forever.

Those burnt thoughts,
Contaminated, contorted by autumn's linger-
As we repent our sins
My heart is pierced by your stinger
The tulips rising towards the incandescent sun
Have flourished and bloomed, nature has won.

Or perhaps it always has? I surrender under the grape vine
The sweet taste of your lips polluting mine.
The grass an emerald ocean, dew gleaming like jewels
Yet the world runs on this endless, melancholic fuel.

I am sinking into the Earth,
Your hands following the curvature of my spine
Needless worry, spring has arrived on time.
She brings clarity, forgiveness back into the soul
The birth of the Dead, replenishing the
Old.

Trapped in retrograde, I live the illusion- that we were frozen by Time's confusion.
But all is warm, our feet moulded into the ground. They create roots, foundations, we are bound.

The scorpion's hiss marks my devotion
Quietly, inside, I hide my emotion.

You melt away into the vast darkness...


Then I wake. Covered in snow, white as snow.

The bee was forbidden from kissing flowers.

Out of the hive, she found her free will. Though
her wings fluttered under heavy turbulence.

Amazed, by the liberty that flowers held in petals, all around
She began to work on arousing subjects, in the playground.

Irises, roses, fuchsias and sunflowers.
Purple, red, pink and yellow- for endless hours.

Her mouth met many lips, sensing negative charges
She finally understood that natural energy was harmless.

Satiated, by her existential discoveries in The Garden
She returned to the tall trees to receive her pardon.

But along the path home she was surrounded.
The colours melted and mixed into grey and brown.

Unable to control the velocity to self-discovery,
Wary droplets of perfume sprayed in cries.
It was then she found her guise,
Judged by those who told lies,
Reached into her abdomen and prised,
No fail-safe to catch her from the skies.

In the eyes of the ocean,
What do you see?
I find myself somehow lost in you
Yet I smile at thee.

Deep Aphrodite caverns
For you and I to rest
And whilst our bodies sink
My hand is stitched to your breast.

Oh, how I could soak in these seas
For an eternity, if not after death.
But woe betide if you drown
And I shall no longer taste that salty breath.

For now the moon shall glow over your silky waves
And light shall dwell in those sunken caves.

Then let me swim one more time in those eyes of yours:
That open in the dark like Heaven's doors.

I am imperfect.
I often take the route
Flooded with rivers and rocks
Jumping from bridge to bridge
Raft to raft, without fully thinking.

I try to immerse myself;
Like each fish and clam,
Surround myself with a layer of thick
security, failing to see it is transparent.

If I can be hunted and seen,
You would no longer see my superficial skin. I would be
bones, meat and dust. Dust from those stars, which burst
their supernova glitter.

And even in the darkest of nights
You will see a skeletal heart, tainted eyes or a
frowning mouth. The rain falls in the forest of my mind,
and as slick as I am,        I slip
trip up on my yellow brick road.

My thoughts are not my own, when I say
things that hurt you and myself.
With my oar I paddle to lands uncharted;
treacherous, dangerous places which must be left in peace.

Tracing the roots of my nerves and the chasms of my brain-
I trespass the battle within.

In the dusky primitive kitchen,
I sat beside the old window.
Mourning, quavering, under the cooling moonlight and savouring the river of Wine singing,
'I've been mistreated, don't mind dying.'

And for a moment
It felt like a spectre was emerging
From that scarlet pool
Which glistened navy in the night.

The flimsy shadow, laden with gray,
Like the smoke that spews from the chimneys, whistled.
Then I saw that it was me, but a lost
Soul that had succumbed to the debris.

The vinyl player whined:
'People tell me walkin' blues ain't bad'
But there was nothing I could do but be sad and lament the love we had.

I looked into the mirror of Life
And saw fire blistering, where peace should be.
Horns growing, where flowers should
Gleam.
The storm that was brewing benighted me.

If I had hanged on...
If I had stayed strong-
Perhaps you would be here singing with me
Instead of our hearts throbbing with
Agony.

So our boats must beat on
Sail away with the wind; against the Deep Blue
Our paths crossed and now no longer belong to the quixotic future we were enfettered to.

'People tell me the old walkin' blues ain't bad'
But I was just a ghost, in a dusky, primitive kitchen,
Sitting against the shut window, mad;
'Well it's the worst old feeling Lord-
I most ever had.'

Loneliness...


What is it people do-
When they go strolling down Love Avenue
Or rather they walk past it, through it,
But are frightened to open the iron gates of truth.

Pale warriors and knights
Become shrouded in their blight
When they hang their desires on the gallows
and leave the flies to feast on juicy sorrows.

And will Chloris have sympathy
For her fallen divines?
Nay, her lips breathe spring roses;
But her pallid soul lies in the abyssmal pit.

There is no turning back
There is no eternal sap
You can drink from, only a Santorium
That will not prepare your spirit for Elysium.

Your life knows no answer
When you spend your nights
By the sea- beaming your woes to the
Sympathetic waves of reality.

You try to ponder on the future
That was securely balanced on the
Wings of a fallen Angel. But her feathers have shedded black and she
Lives in an obsidian fable.

Do you remember? Under the November Luna which lit an ambience on those reckless lips;
Which still had the repelling aroma of beer and strong spirits.

But just for now- let's meld- become one with the Night Deity, banquet our fates and lost hopes on the false promises of our doomed reveries.

I'll gift you the white feather, the silver and striped pelts of your savagery. I'll pleasure you by saying nothing...

...but you can work out the rest. The demise of your damsels in distress.

So after you have finished feasting on the succulent hearts of your romantic, haughty slaves- you are no longer welcome to the tribe of the brave.

It is not a sin, nor a taint of reputation;
Oh, it is an act of naivity and damnation. I submit, I'll be your green-eyed monster.
But I cannot succumb to resent forever.

So my life knows no answer
But atleast I will thrive through the thick, smog of your lies and fallacious treasures.
Go back to your rakish zoo, your spirits, your hallucinations:
Sink back into your vast carelessness.

But as for me, I will be born back into the sanguine wilderness


And lurk in the umbra.

Oh, what melancholy
Can describe these cloudy climes
Which the Earth paints an epiphany of folly: revealing your twisted crimes.

I once thought truth was true
Feeling the zest of our embrace
The verdure of our love ceased to be-
No longer grew.

I'm walking down a path of autumn's
Bombardment; broken branches, tossed away dreams.
The cooling gust makes my lips numb. The chill comes from you it seems.

By the brook, there is a whisper wandering, wailing:
'Fear not, the future is near'
But how can I penetrate the smog settling on my blind eyes?
It remains unclear.

I can never win- therefore I cannot love.
I have fallen so low from the clouds above.
I alone, in my selfishness, can please
Beelzebub
And my discardment, shall to You, be the white dove.

What can I do?
When I am so smitten for thee-
That the icicles of my past, melt in just
a stare of thine starry eyes.

There is a chasm between Me
and Thouest, which lies a fire so warm,
And bright, it does at once light
the darkest of nights and desires.

What I would give-
to feel thine enamoured heat...
Caressing the knots and scars across my body.
Your kiss is comparable to the smokiest oud and fresh tobacco-
lighting our pyres.

Alas, it is impossible to rhyme in your presence!
I stutter at the fluttering of your individual hairs
standing up to greet
the deity you love most deep.

This vessel is the human alchemy for thee:
The everlasting sycamore cooling beside the sea.

Words hurt no matter how small.
Words hurt and hath their power to enthrall.

And I've been hurt
By your malevolent call.

Like the impossible love of Venus and Mars and as time progresses- the death of old stars.

You thought I would never miss you-
But I see your red hair as a burning visage in my mind.

I see your face as a hallow, sacred artifact and your lips as gentle as Hyancith's.

But that discus that Apollo threw
Has struck my heart and the blood hath spewed-

all over my hands.

So I sit like a hag, aged by heartbreak
Mourning like a widow- a black widow, that will **** her joys for a selfish sake.

Words do hurt no matter how small
Words hurt and hath their power to cause downfall.

I was painted to be-
A majestic lioness
With a hungry heart
And beauty resembling art.

I was drawn to be-
A muscular manifestation
Of swift and stable poise
A roaring constant noise.

But I am no prototype for prejudice
This lion, is loyal to herself
And belongs to the savanna,
The rich mud in the Ghana.

I do not care for gold
Or for my pompous title
I shall not use my claws
For such a petty cause.

Through the glass
And in the ringlet of
Sunlight He stood in,
There was tranquility.

To be tranquil
At one's own sorrows
Taxes and tenders
The flesh of living.

As notes and chords
Ascended into
The smokescreen
Of his honesty,

I somehow felt
Soothed and scared
Behind a closed door.
Emotionally longing for more.

She licked her lips, incomprehensibly
A feverish dew, luminous beads
A mutual alacrity, unspoken melody-
That guides me to search deeper.

Magnetism without polarity
No witness to confess undue crimes
Healers unaware of their divine power-
Now we caress in our velvet hour.

Shackles and chains extinct from our desires
The birdsong and Sun continue their loops;
lacing together under luscious clefs
of bassy tones, arpeggiating.

The second is nigh that my senses explode
I am not frightened by this pensive moment
Let me drink from the chalice, Priestess
And absorb the sacred knowledge.

Pain consumes me.
And I consume my pain
in thousands of junk joules
eating away my body like greedy ghouls.

That kind of sadness
Makes smiles ugly-
to pinch my thighs and waist
and loath the corpse which I traced.

Life became granulated and refined.
Too artificial and too confined.
I saw my muscles melting- undefined.
Now there is little will left to be kind.
I was inclined to push you behind-
Keep you out of my mind.
Stop being blind to your decline.

In dark hours I awake.
I should pace my steps before I break.
Nothing would ever soothe this bellyache.
This deathbed shall be one I make-
From these hands that shake.
And this dirge will quake
the lies I tried hide, behind the snake.

My lover's lips are tender.
Tendered by the reed from
Which he sings a thousand
Waves and transcends to a
Dimension, which my eyes
Cannot roam without
Confusion or awe.

For the ways in which
He captivates the
Crowds of souls
Who ponder the extent
Of human excellence
Is through the mystic
Vessel of shining brass.

When his blue eyes wax,
Like glassy moons
Reflecting on cool waters
I pause. And breathe.
And float. And smile.
Uncontrollably- full
of warmth.

And even if I was
Letting heat condense
Making my angst
Obvious to he who
Instigates the malevolent
Creature within;
I am immediately at peace-

Not with myself. But
With the thought of
His love, for his craft.
Each and every
Whisper and growl
Is a hue of his
Kindred spirit.

As I sit here
I possess a seat
At a table
Many would
Understandably
Be scared of.

To spend time
With thyself
Unphased by
Tenors of busy engines
Against humming
Birdsongs in a grove.

From here
Space feels infinite
Not to the touch
But to the sight
That wanders from green
To blue hues in daylight.

Happily disconnected
Yet connected to
The very essence of
My existence
Which troubles
The modern mind.