.
Changing her disguise,
lover in liquid lapis,
**** wearing turquoise,
blending serene, frozen,
collecting flirtations,
in green emeralds,
feeding on innocence,
emotion camouflaged,
sacrificed phrases melting,
****** hot tears, crimson,
return to the silence,
and decriminalise sentiment.


© Pagan Paul (2016)

.
Slip your arm around him and smile,
tell her that she has beautiful style,
bring love and friendship to them all,
then stand back and watch them fall.

Shower compliments from way up high,
be with them all to laugh and cry,
share their pain and share their lives,
whilst in the darkness sharpening knives.

For rumours, and cursed words you weave,
behind the scenes, intent to deceive,
to bring them crashing to their knees,
and conquer that which has you displeased.

Then laugh until it hurts, somehow,
the means may have justified the ends,
but take a good look around you now,
you no longer have any more friends.

© Pagan Paul (25/03/17)

.
I love her many faces,
they swim in my dreams eternal,
tantalising, playing, and held within,
breaking the shell to find the kernel.

The source of beauty beholden there,
brings succour to an aching heart,
chanting, singing, a pretty lullaby,
straight as an arrow, swift as a dart.

A veil of Wisdom hangs loose,
showing me the way with herbs,
aromatic, evocative, a hazy swoon,
a tranquil lake, a thrown stone disturbs.

I adore her seductive curves,
they dance in my time and space,
rhythmic, ******, and shown external,
a Wiccans kiss and a Womans grace.


© Pagan Paul (08/08/16)

.
How I wish I could lay my head
down gently on your thighs,
to make you moan and sigh aloud
and slowly close your eyes.

How I wish I could use my tongue
and give you more than rhyme,
to bring a flush up to your cheek,
of feelings beyond space and time.

How I wish that I could speak
in words of feathered certainty
and so entice your curious mind
to lay down with me for eternity.
.
.
© Pagan Paul (2017)

.
There is a man
     with only one hand,
in the 3rd eye of Buddha
     he learnt about clapping.

There is a woman
     with only one heart,
in the land ruled by men
     she retained her compassion.

There is a man
     with only one eye,
in the land of the blind
     he was ostracised.

There is a mind
     with only one thought,
in the land of the banal
     it treasures imagination.


© Pagan Paul (19/10/16)

.
War. Famine.
Pestilence. Death.
Enjoy a game of poker.
It relieves the boredom.
They only have one Big project
booked into the work diary.
The horses are stabled,
so why not have down time?
The day-to-day business
takes care of itself.
Ably supervised by the humans
in a race to the Big day.

The stillness is penetrated by sound.
Death cleaning his teeth
with his reaping scythe or
Death sharpening his reaping scythe
on his teeth.
Either way, it shattered vertebrae.
His nerves were getting twitchy.
Three Kings, the Jack and Queen of Clubs.
Royals were dropping like flies.
It was going to be a busy night.
He met Wars eyes and her bet,
(****! She looks beautiful sweating),
paid an advance and called.
Uncharacteristically delicate,
he lay down his souls.
Jack and Queen of Clubs.
Kings of Diamonds, Spades and Hearts.

War smiled sweetly.
Her dirk-like eyelashes
fluttering an assassins dance.
Letting her cards fall soft,
triumphant with winners ecstasy,
she declares her hand...




… “SNAP!” she says.




© Pagan Paul (14/03/17)