A child wishes to be older
A teenager tries to be grown up
An adult tries to stay youthful
The old ?
They just pray to stay

I have seen love
I have felt its tremulous
I have lost love
I have felt its void
I have yearned for love
I have known its command
I have envied love
I have been left cold
I have needed love
I have been left wanting
I have no love
I walked away
I alone

My toes are ugly
Well I think they are
They look so strange
Down there on the floor
As though added on as an after thought
Now imagine if we had none at all
Fetishists would suffer quite a lot
No way to get themselves off
Athletes foot would be a thing of the past
And I'd never be nibbled by dogs or cats
As it is there here to stay
Just ugly toes
Down there
Ok

There is nothing more heinous or gravid a crime than the death of the human soul and spirit killed by another, save for it being killed and the body left to roam this earth. ..

I dreamt of clouds heavy with rain, whisps of heavy porcelain, suspended on wishes and heavy with tears.
I saw you upon them, darting from one to another carried by the wind, dancing like a wild spirit, untamed, free.
For a moment time was no issue as death had come, and gone.
You paused and gazed down upon me.
The smile held a lifetime of emotions then, goodbye and a tear fell into the now dark clouds and a crash of thunder crossed the sky.
The rain fell harder and harder as it masked the tears on my face.
Masked for no other to see, drenched to the skin, cold in solitude and heavy in heart.
I awoke my hair soaked from fever, only then did I know you had come to say goodbye.

Some say we have lived our lives many times before
Each life another opportunity
They believe a soul mate criss crosses our path
And that said we miss each other
If I have spent my lives looking for you
Have you been looking for me?
Are we the same age?
Have I missed you?
Are you in a foriegn land?
Or have you moved into the next life?

Shap edges of light pierce my eyes
Sounds of morning ransack my thoughts
I'M NOT READY FOR THIS!!
I may never will be
As I age my thoughts mature
My body degrades
My mind has clarity
Yet my heart is still foolish
Does the dawn break
No.. it's broken

All the things that are to die for
Are what generally **** us in the end
Alcohol
Tobacco
Sugar
Love
Justice
Truth
Some quickly
Some slowley
Most by our own hand

Over the rainbow or somewhere else
A play upon words for my personal thoughts.
Was Kubla Khans ******* a work or a fact? It took Coleridge decades to work that out.
If Kipling thought "When" would it be lesser a work? If would be nothing, there's satire there.
If Poe wrote of seagulls and the Raven was missed, would a dream be a nightmare in his words instead?
So had Yeats not the heavens embroided cloths but instead the curtains from his grandma's cottage, would he have laid them down under her feet? Or wrapped them around her to keep her sweet.
Is there nothing in words that hasn't been said?
Who knows now, who cares I guess.

I had so much I wanted too write.
My head bursting with so much thought, so many words, so much emotion.
I just can't organise the letters to make words that make sense.
Maybe they don't want to be written just yet.

The silence at the close of day surrounds me
No motion or thought just being
A void of perspective and matter
A place we hither to hide from
But it's always there

There is a duality between madness and love
One drives the other to its limits all to often
The madness in how and when we fall
The sorrow in how we leave and why
No measure of common sense will help
For it is by its nature an uncommon problem
For one madness, for another their all
As paths cross and emotions rage we loose sight of what was the beginning and what may have been the end
We blend in duality
The love of madness and the madness of love become one
Yet when we part, neither are what their former selves were
Our own madness alone

Once upon a time a man had the universe in his grasp.
He didn't know that so he didn't hold onto it
Many years later that universe drifted past again
Then with both hands, on tippy toes he stretched to grab hold of it.
His grip now not as long or as strong as his sight, no longer strong he relied upon his feelings
If once upon a time he had done that before how different life would have been.

Five drinks later and loose of lip
She outlined her desires
I'd chuck my knickers at you!
But I'd have to ring them out first!!!

Shameless and longing she needed him now
But our victim saw love in her eyes

To the room for her craving
For him all he desired
An hour later, both were satisfied

She left him her number
But please only texts
She had tasted honey
And would want it again

Sometimes vulnerability comes through in a person's character as strength or determination to succeed.
All to often it becomes the portrayal of weaknesses and past failures.
Yet in a minority it shapes them, it gives life to their dreams and ideas.
It's easy to sit back and say it's "destiny" but are we the victims or the stewards of it?

They say if a writter falls in love with you they will forever show it in their words.
What if you fall into the heart of a writter?
Do you tumble falling from word to word as the lexicon of their being shrouds you?
Or do you become like two stars colliding?

For what one admires and respects in the events that lead a soul to a point in time and space, is all we have of them.
A signature of sorts,
their comets tail in the universe.

From that point all that we do entwines in each others script.
I had never thought of life as a script, written daily with characters passing in and out of the storyline.
But it seems true!

If you look at it that way it is simple.
The question is...
Will a character be given a leading roll next to the star.
Or simply a walk in part for a few episodes.
Who knows
Only
The writter.

We die a little a little each day, as do we all.
As those that would do us harm labour in their quest to hurt.
Absorbed in greed and hatred and it's vices
Daily they cut more, deeper each time
Until one day there is nothing more to cut.
No longer a victim to prey upon
For the victim chose to exit this world
Sought solitude and peace in another
Simply gone.

I can't love.
I can write of it.
I imagine it.
I dream of it.
I cannot do it.
It wasn't taken
It did not leave
I expelled it
I did it myself
I
alone

I have been blamed for rain and blamed for snow
Told I was wrong for doing as I am told
Why is it so hot, oh why is it so cold!
Don't touch me, but I need someone to hold
It's raining again, it isn't my fault
Your hairs gone frizzy and ruined the night out
Shall we just get a cart or a glass box on wheels?
So you can be perfect in all seasons reveals
Throw down the mirror and the perfect facade
You think that people can't see inside?
Angry and twisted a corkscrew heart
So blame everyone for all of your woes
See how that works when you are alone

All I could hear was my heartbeat deafening in my ear as I lay upon the pillow and held back the tears.
A thousand thoughts all mixed up, not one made any sense and you just sit there staring, at me in my bed.
You're always there, never far and a plague upon my life.
Whenever things are bad you make them worse at night.
Never wanted always here, oh where did you come from. The cursed black dog !
BE GONE! BE GONE! BE GONE!

I looked inside my dark places
I walked miles by day
Further at night, in my mind
I saw faces of others
Twisted by lifes trials
Tear reddened cheeks
Broken smiles
I had seen enough for any lifetime
Each day repeated
Like water dripping on a prisoner
Serving no purpose other than to becon insanity
But it was already here
Madness all around

Sleep in dreams of laughter
Wrapped in velvet covers
Drapped with silk
Sleep in silence not fear

I want a big clock
Hung  upon my wall
Like the kind in train stations
With arms feet long

I want to hear each tick
And every tock
One at a time
Counting the moments
As life passes by

I know one day
Maybe to soon
The clock will stop
For me alone

Who knows why
It ticks as it does
How many seconds
Each of us have

You get to use them
With who, is your call
But once each has gone
It's gone for good

So watch the hands
Sweep the face
Tick after tock
Till we leave this place

I can't sing you a lulaby
Ive no words to help you sleep
I cant singng you a lulaby
Because you're not here with me

Oh I can't mend your broken heart
I cant take away your pain
I cant sing you a lulaby
It isn't for me to sing

Tomorrow you will wake up
So tired and so alone
Face the day half awake
Longing to go home

For no one sings a lulaby
No one sings to you
You wouldn't hear it if I did
The words wont get through

Night after night he dreams of you
It's all that he can do
Singing you a lulaby
But it never gets to you

There is still magic to be done
But not by this magician
Maybe it holds true
For I think some,
Magicians that is,
Are mere illusionists

She sleeps, motionless
Only breath,
Her breath In the night moves her form
She has an alabaster like serenity of soul
Innocent as she sleeps
Yet in her waking hours her form is that of seduction
She has a simplicity in motion that arouses the most controlled of men
Now
Do I wake her
Do I kiss her or embrace her sleeping form

I strain my eyes to see what is before me
Often focusing in and out, trying to gain detail
detail of what exactly.
I am simply an observer, no more no less
I have no stake in this reality.
I'm simply a passenger
You all scuttle past unseen, but there!
Never noticed, never challenged
Yet you spout opinion never fact, like hyenas
Await a head above the parapet
Shoot to **** !! They made a mistake
Vapid and insincere. Harbingers to a tee
**** your insincerity, **** you to hell
Let me see you bare your soul, give of yourself
No you cannot because you have no worth
No measure, no purpose
Feeding like carion on the bones of the living, loving,
Fighting for air
Yet you prey upon them still, worthless and bereft of a soul
One day you will be that, frail, trying hurting..
Then your kind will devour you.

Is hope an ideal
A place
Or a dream
Is love not it's root
That of ideals
The place a dream sits
Is despair the loss of hope
Not love uprooted
It's dreams expired
Then what of life
To live we need both hope,
Lest we forget our dreams
We need love to dispel despair
Are these ideals
Or simply life's truths

Oh I'm running with scissors
Hell they're not even mine
I got no paper to cut
And I trip all the time

I've been rocking my chair
Back and forth on two legs
Trying to balance
And waiting for it to break

Climbing up trees
Scramble to hold on
Shaking with fear
afraid of the fall


On the highway playing chicken
******* the cars
Well A cat has nine lives
I got just one

I'm running barefoot with you
Along a ***** beach
Cut after cut
Now our feet bleed

Faster and faster
Here comes the bend
Hear the tyres
Squeeling again
Again again again
Again again again

All of the things
That I shouldn't have done
Now I'm to old
My mad days are gone

Did you look in the mirror before you went out?
Your spiders legs are hanging out

At the end of all our wars and conflicts, when the last bomb is dropped, the last bullet fired, and the last man is left standing the victor, know one thing.
He is already dead...

I crossed the street
I saw you
But no
You are miles away
But I was sure
I was wrong
My mind plays games
Is this what age does to a man?
Memories become now
The mind plays games
The heart always looses

The light glistening in his eyes as the salty tears ran from them
In that instant there was no more mask, just the face of a man
A man lost in the trials of life and without any compass or destination
A man like any other.

I thought I'd seen a ghost
It was a mirror, and cruel
That can't be me I've grown so old
How did I change so fast?
Or was it slow and unnoticed
Answers a lot of questions
Raises to many more.

Do the ends caress what's whithin?
A play upon words, a facade of what is beneath
The pages inside the book now seldom seen
Placed upon a shelf no longer to read
Or the reader did not understand the thread
The plot not to their taste or their perception hazed
Or picked up when in the mood pages turned then put down
Then cast aside unfinished
So what now of this book?
Do you open it's cover and look
Does the cover, it's front and back
Protect the story held inside
The photograph, the front of course the eye catches first or the spine with inviting words
The title that hides the tale inside, cries and smiles truth and lies
Hardback in a true disguise, more costly but often satisfies a weighty tombe a work of size
Holding the story tight, until the time is right
Or softback invitingly there to see
Oh please oh please open and look beneath
The cover so often is a pale facade
No relevance to what's within its charge
For the story may have no end or may need to be re written again
Each reader sees a different thing
The written words scribed as a life I yearn to know what's inside
Though many books are there to see
What is it you really want to read?
Is it the story of an open heart or a drama
Now closed by a reader far to harsh
The story of a persons life like Dickens forgotten bride
Or can it be read by others, when the time is right
A classic re visited late at night, giving the reader warmth and delight.
So reader choose your book with care for taste in books is a "soul"preserve

He called me again today
He was there in his cape
Scythe over shoulder, no real shape
Tricked me to join him in his eternal game
Wanted only me tonight, almost had me as well
He offered me Jack Daniel's, so I didn't feel the cold
Didn't feel the waves as his grasp took hold
He offered me his hand and I'd never grow old
Would end all the pain and let this life go
No light did I see no valhala or heaven
Just darkness and cold as I walked in his steps
Then before I had passed my face was on fire
A dog licking my cheeks, frenzied she barked
If not for her my rescue dog
I'd be gone from this earth and of its pain
She returned the favour to live today.

A collection of elements
Mostly harmless
Bonded together in molecules and strings
Making muscles and bones and other things
Mostly water and fresh air
But none the less I'm still here
You may say you know me
You speak of my form
You really don't know me
For I'm only a shell

Hear it?
The white noise?
Lie awake, it's louder
Like leaves rustling in my ears
Or the constant tone?
Yeah you know!
The noise won't leave you alone

Punctuated only by furr ***** and *****
Whats the point?
Eat sleep **** repeat
Can't play fetch or go for a walk
Claws to sharp and scratch the walls
Sit on your lap and dig in your *****
Sleeps all day,fights all night
Then ***** in a tray or in next doors flowers
Then gets lost an posters put up
Lost my **** it was a three day stud!
Then gets old and now wants to be friends
Till it pops it's cloggs and the kids are upset
Then it happens, weeks go by and you come home from work and a kittens arrived!!
The dogs gone nuts it's ******* it off
The wife and kids are going soft
Grab the lead and "I'll take the dog out!!"

Layer by layer like peeling skins
The crisp outer layers
Moving beyond to the softer flesh
White not brown, moist not dry
Only this will make you cry
But I think love and emotion is just the same
Layer upon layer, the deeper we get
The more the tears
The more it hurts

Two o'clock shadow at 8 am
Another late night, beer again
Eyes red dry and sore
Un ironed shirt from night before
Mind won't focus can't concentrate
Why did you drink again so late
Your body is drained and wearing out
Get some help your times run out

He always feared he would be never enough
If he lay beside her in fear of love

Always believing one day she would have gone
Into the arms of another who offered her more

All that he thought and all that was there
were nothing but dreams of a life with her

Entangled lives with tremulous pasts interlaced in a web of lust

But lust is fleeting and isn't love
And dreams were all it ever was

When I woke today I was alone
Couldn't feel your warmth
Couldn't touch your skin with my fingertips
Nor kiss your face with my lips

Couldn't smell your scent as I made the bed
Nor touch your hair as you got dressed
No silhouette to make me smile
No clothes left for me to fold

I couldn't hear your voice at breakfast
Or the sound of your heels in the hall
Couldn't say goodbye and wish you well
Couldn't hug and squeeze you it's living hell

Because I am here and you are not
You've never been and thats our lot
So really nothing's changed from a month ago
So why do I feel like I am not whole?

Tonight again I shall got to sleep
Imagine you as you breathe
Stroke your hair and kiss your neck
Then hold you in a warm embrace

My life has changed in a way thats good
It isn't how I thought It would
A way that others may not get
Is it Love??
Let them guess
***

We are all that is made from the words of others and the emotions they give, or take.
The building blocks or rubble of our very fabric, and all that separates growth from decay can be just a word, one single word.
Growth can be slow and nurtured by another, but decay, oh decay can be swift and destroy so much in an instant.
There comes a time when we begin to build a wall rather than build ourselves.
It gets higher around us until it shuts out all the world
Then we die within our own prison
Built from bricks made with the words of others