spinning colours.
flashing lights.
pounding music.
rooms too bright.

tucked away amidst the dawn,
he took a drag on Mary Jane,
coating her in liquor rain,
as he thought of thought of lustful times forgone.

he sat the pill right on his tongue,
and watched it melt away.
he closed his eyes and swallowed vulgarly,
for there was no time to be a saint this day.

he hid within an acid storm.
and his promises were holy,
when he watched the load drip down slowly.
for the psychedelic pleasure held him warm.

Back then
You smiled like a thousand green seas
Because the sky rained candy floss
Every passing car
Was a firebird soaring out of dark
Every tree
Blossomed with cashmere petals
Or glossy sweet fruits
And hearts and souls were made of cotton wool
Soft like a pillow
Warm like love

how can i say
that i envy the chase
from the tip of my pencil
to your graphite gaze?
spitting my heart
onto an endless canvas
of greys and blacks,
hoping the red would stain…
but it never does.
only your floral words are
indelible on my skin
and the reverse
is just a lie i tell myself
so i could sleep a little better
every forsaken night.
the truth is far from your moon;
beyond all your pretty stars
and iridescent eternities,
it is despairingly beyond my fathoms.
but i hope, and again i hurt
for butterfly smiles
and deluding taciturn undertows
and nightmarish illusions
leaving bruises of you
on the very tip of my lost tongue
and all over my wept eyes;
a lifeless empty void
against the autumn shower
of your warm hermetic glances.
and there is no one else
to keep this rusted clockwork
ticking rhythmically to the beats
of your mindless cradle…
and that is the ultimate folly
of this ascetic destructive shale
that i tactlessly call my soul.
for a fool’s machinery,
this chemical heart is.
So indiscernible to lose itself in
such vitreous self-infliction,
and sabotaging the very blood
that my tiring arteries
now regain, thus to sustain
the very memory of your breath
in tranquil consonance…
foolish—and yet; a fool, i am.
a fool for believing that this
lie was past the dark side of the moon
and beyond my wounded stars
and lacklustre infinities…
you are despondently beyond my fathoms.
but i hope, and again, i hurt.
darling, just how can i ever say
that i envy the calm reflection
from the incipience of your melody
to your coda’s revelations?

Amidst the smoke and light and laughter
Along the smiles and cheers thereafter

A sound is bled, wrung free from strings
It bounds and treads and wholly sings
Inside each song, a secret’s moved
Not right nor wrong or frequent proved
The message dances from bow to ear;
A coded trance of love and fear
From left to right the story rings
Of death and light the Cello brings
The covert tale engulfs the room
It vibrates truth to those who loom
The Cello knows for why it’s played
Its secret lost, both gone and stayed

In the smoke and light and laughter
Music lies and cries thereafter

Touch the rain
It may look to you
Like the clouds
Are a sheep
Crying
Because no one counts her
In their sleep
But the beads of blue
Are the stars decorating
The tarmac  
With ghostly grey diamonds
Or perhaps scattering the ashes
Of dead suns
It is the cold kiss
Of the wind
The brutal embrace of a tempest
The rain will wash
The pain right off you
Because those tiny lagoons
Are asteroids that never grew up