Borders can be open,
but minds can remain closed.

Are you my muse?
Well, are You?

Every time we talk
ideas crop up

Sometimes crazy
sometimes not so much

But little flicks of light
appear
like a runway
signalling

along the synapses
of my
frontal lobe

Or a light bulb might
show up
in a bubble
above my head

No matter how
No matter where

They insist on follow through

even though some fizzle
and some just outright die

~~~~~~~~~~

So are you my muse?
I need someone to blame!

it's funny the things you forget
when asked for an 'interesting fact' --

you sleep on them for days
and exhume them from the ground
because they matter! so deeply!!
there's no metaphor that does them justice!!
it's poetry because it isn't!!!

i don't know my siblings.
my parents sleep in my dead grandad's bed
and i received his cupboards:
yeah, we're pretty much begging to be haunted.
let's be positive, it'd be nice to see him again.

thanks to reinforced childhood superstition,
i still pick up pennies from the ground
(yup, even with my germ phobia).

i used to write to the tooth fairy!
she warned me about gum disease.
her name was tiffy, but it turned out to
just be mum writing with her left hand.

as an internet-addicted hermit,
little me hated going abroad
since the only friends i felt i had were online.
there's thus a list of places to someday re-visit -
rotterdam is one.

i'd like to be somebody's muse.
if my life plan fails,
i want to work in a funeral parlour:
it feels as though i'd do it justice.

watching the same film more than once
just isn't something i do -- except grease --
exceptions can be made when it's on TV.

i mean, c'mon, it's grease.

to be loved by a child
what more could one ask
in the light of their eyes
one can warmly bask

find a child to love
an elfish sprite
find a child to love
set your world right

innocent faces
spirits free as the wind
laughter and smiles
they almost seem winged

find a child to love
maybe even two
find a child to love
why not start with
you