Her wooden spoon was her own shame
and conspiracies became crimes,
So many like the word Hurricane
is the moon or sun to blame.
When a child's curiosity wonders,
what lies after the beating spoon,
in a room if imaginary cocoons.,
the Angels and the air breathes of dew

Death dies when hands tremble
leaves my side to inhale her last breath
to a truth that sees behind a lost face.

Poetry is a rumble of the garden's bees
with one spin of a roll of the dice,
protects his queen and dies a hero
and the white leaves his eyes
and the ants rip into his torso.

What's a feeling of a sting ray's given
when provoked to rise and strike?

Moving rocking chair in this haunted room,
you sat in and knitted up the memories,
brushing my face as a child with a broom.

Alice on tv,  with a scope on mushrooms
one born to eagerly fulfil his imagination
of a toy soldier and a world of fantasy.

A death knell will sound the night....

Please Diane,
feel warmth of my hands,
as the water is flowing,
I wish I was your fountain,
I have but **** left to gain,
a shadow disappears in rain.

A flow circulates brain,
but the blood drips down the drain
I wish I could raise like a crane
but I copped the...........

Flowing bubbling spring
A good time to lose the ring
Lying in bed to tomorrow brings
I hate when the birds start to sing.

What is there......

Haste becomes routine tooth paste,
if the body can lift from such waste,
I'm sick of who I am am today,
will a future tomorrow be the same.

Please Diane,
He sped off in the van,
and the stoning's I had to witness
there is no priest who can truly blessed.

I'm so sick and tired.....
I just want to die.

The balloons circulate and suffocate
I'm dying right now?
I can't breathe through the plastic
Wind no chance in a closed building,
I punch them away
but only get a breather
before they emerge right back
and I suffocate and now its time to die......

Most children enjoy balloons,
mine only give me pure agony,
Surfed and stacked as a kid
and they are not of helium,

They approach like insects,
curiosity and instinct
but really are after my final hours
blow the candle out, please......
Its time to die.........

I breeze through endless of the trees,
I lose my way in which I choose,
Broken souvenirs will appear,
Fears jam and stuck in first gear.

Hands buried last in quick sand,
eyes focus to ears whispering,
silver stars, captured in jars,
glittering like your stare, focusing.

There's a horizon I can't reach,
A cliff that hands can't withstand,
A hawk soars above my shore,
As I sink further to thoughts within.

I'm not scared of dying,
just without a warm hand,
of a lover's embrace,
until dead in the morning,
my body aches as my mind,
the brain does not function
like yours or anyone's else's,
a symptom of Aspergers's
god's terrible disease,
inflicted upon birth of me,
I can't stand up straight,
I can't even generally relate,
my birth-mark is of lonely death,
I can't wait to take my final breathe.

I may be able to rhyme
and keep a good flow,
but does it forgive crimes,
worth feast of the crows.
Words flow from my mouth,
but everything's gone south,
I hurt the ones I care about,
and that comes with no doubt.

Friends I truly really love,
wish to burn me over stove,
I can't blame their feelings,
when I cause all the bleeding.
The gardens of the weeds
I'm the devil in their eyes,
once full of such pride,
I need to open mine wide,
to the tide that did divide.

Co-ordinate emotions and reasoning,
Will I be the monster on the telly,
or the dearth of a meal's seasoning,
be trapped in the greedy belly.
Of a demon who planted this seed,
burn down this middle age tree,
and the portrait of me as a baby.

I would stop this if I could
but no reasons why I should.
Give me a reason why I would,
As a child, I was totally shook
left for dead on the floor,
silence of the shore.
The killing of the core,
leave apple seeds behind,
memories I can't rewind,

The wars of one disturbed and flawed,
I thought I had the chaos under control,
but my mind is bouncing off intoxication,
leading to hurting and the devastation.

I am truly sorry for the pain and hurt,
I am covered in mud and all the dirt.
Innocent women of seduction and flirt,
this guilt and shame is legitimate.
I brought on the hurt and the shame,
and I only have myself to blame.

Never sweet in a certain nectarine,
like unripen grapes before you buy drapes,
Curtains may close your open soul
but red flows always from the glow.

Bless the spears ****** for the dears,
Strike so fiercely for the one draws near.
Rest assured you're just part of the herd,
Blinded by sworn of her gentle words.

Warning - Suicide Themes.

The echoes in this in-ruins tenancy,
haunts with its peaceful darkness
level 5 of St Martin's Centre.
It was like a true calling,
an end to grip displeasing
the silence of insects buzzing.

I felt a calamity peace
never for long time felt,
shadows clawing out to me,
flick metal of stanley knife
out to a pale simple cut,
wishing blood forever stains
gushing out from my neck.

I could have been a blending
a smorgasbord of a corpse,
read the light in glimmer of creation
I could have been with shadows,
Those resting  call out to me...


How can one such as I,
attracted to the blackened places,
ignite a glimpse of shiny spark
leads to salvation of the blind....

I can't raise a hammer,

just a silvery bending fork.

Is a defence mechanism homing

to stirring assurance missed?
This will haunt me for all my life,

bellows comes out flames in mouth
I caught on slow & never learned,

bumping heads buries this child

questions, questions, questions, questions

like the morning sun,
how does the dawn,
raise to take it all,

questions, questions, questions, questions,

the night sky,
it braves,
settling of the sun
does it crave,
truly no-one?

questions, questions, questions, questions,

A lonely soul,
no-one knows,
lies on side of road,

-would you make the call?


The storm has come and the rain will always bring,
The losing down the drain of the loosening ring,
The angel loses the vocals she has always sung
and now this demon finally eventually becomes,
lost accept the numbing and crying,
eventually words you say will lose their meaning,
and the bees' pain, feel nothing when they sting,
and the secret of the tide becomes another,
the hell created by what you thought was a tease,
the guilt of emotions is what this finally brings,
you are left to be buried in hell, not the heavens,
your lustful thoughts from your very own tongue,
and now your old body is rotting and dying,
this is on you for your arrogant reckoning.

I used to dream when I was young,
I would remove all of the thorns
of the most beautiful flowers
and place them in her hair,
lovingly,

Innocence is cute, its so divine,
then you grow up not so fine,
that girl you knew as a child,
can't even remember her name,
sadly,

There's a loneliness to every soul,
eating alone in a popular food court,
they may enjoy the meal, cooked well,
but in the end, solitary doesn't taste as good,

and love declines as the demon in you climbs
and now you realize, its a tragic  fairy-tale
and now the large world appears small
and insects on your skin now crawl,

The realization,
it makes you sick,
now, floating past the jetty,
the strands of her hair.....

Could you learn to love a creature
with uncharacteristic features.
Could you live and breathe in,
the **** I feel within,

Are paintings subjective
like difference of opposites,
of tides before a dawn,
attempted killings of a fawn.

Is the piano the hardest
of all the instruments
to learn from a natural talent
or the red of burnt out sun sets,

Why is Anathema a beautiful word,
a curse of the blue in fireworks.
Why was I the demon's flesh
that he forever relished?

Through the trees, can feel the breeze,
of gentle flapping of butterfly's wings,
Its a sight that every child should see,
the beauty of the wonder and discover.

Timely old owls that sound you the hoot,
as gentle as a master playing of a flute.
And when the eagles soar like demons,
the kids are amazed, unlike priest's sermon.

The river flows but its the fountain,
wraps the eyes of a child's like beacon,
the most beautiful of all of nature,
they imagine treasure that's sunken.

Through the trees to mother's embrace,
two little girls remember path they traced.
Sweetly hugged around their waists,
the soft saints of a mountain's grace

When I travel by skies to your lab,
I slow down flapping of my able wings.
Soar beneath so I can see your eyes
they're memorized at an eagle outside.

***** soil beneath lies a snake coiling,
I swoop down and with my ****** beak,
throttle it's hissing neck from side to side.
Silently as the ninja holds its rage

Ever the romantic prevents poisoning
from one who seems princely dashing,
and if the eagle's eyes seem worrisome,
he's just sick of being so lonesome.

Yesterday's old woman millings,
to a rusted old wind-screen-shield,
& the torched stranger in corn fields
produces crops none shall wield,
against the killing & the ******
but the flame-thrower welding,
against a knight that heralds,
a shield for which for blocking,
but the fields lay ablaze in dying,
and the starving in which eloping,
to those eager to hold on to living,
as the hounds bounce glorious beagles,
and eat up what boney hands cluttering....
A feast before they too become death.

She'll never see
the truth which axes trees
I've come to learn to be
the mess that follows me.

For all the fallen crumbs
loaf of bread freshly baked
intoxication dumbs a cake
embers burn out before a wake.

My shame lies in hidden shadows
portrait from crumbly hidden wall
melody lost from old grand piano,
gathering guilt of this mouse's tail.

No joy mis-giving of dark horse's wraith
contrasts belly retro giggling laughs,
fragments as stony capsule freezes
rips tomb of arts,  false idols burning.

The divinity of the sweet ****** Mary
open eyes to ***** which buries
tiny legs swaying certain innocence
wonderfully proud of rocking horse
a moment that I wish have paused.

Nightmare of paralysis claws
the remains of rusted sealed door,
a burden can't balance demons
if water's impure  careless  creation
of a man-made poisonous bore...

Stains the metal
ancient are red tinted forever more
raise of dead daisy petals,
Why raise the Olympic bar
for these under performing scores?

Same as older, and obsess over,
left overs, random order
but all over again....

She has awoken,
words were spoken,
Its hard to supervise.

feelings,  you're the fish been reeling
and any love bites are now sealing

Your unrequited love is ignored,
Your  magic at words is her boredom,

Imagine her flesh taste and sweet smell,
as your journey takes you to hell
and the bell rings of loneliness
never one for God to ever bless.

You would give your life at the taste
of her sweet lips and without haste,
but she was born perfectly beautiful,
and her halo is so angelical.

But you, how are you with the demons
aggravating such a cruel meaning
Not born with those white wings
and never able to lullaby sing

Is beauty on the inside or the flesh,
Psychology will give you a wish
Curiosity kills cats and yourself
as you dream so much of herself.

Am I this sociopath biting your ears
With the breeze, did I become your fears.
Am I a crowbar from ceasing your gears,
Am I in your thoughts as the night draw nears?

There's a crack that keeps getting bigger,
childish giggles and a little snicker,
Do my eyes shine a death night stalker,
behind a tree I see the doggie walkers.

Am I the the madness loading a shotgun,
Am I the craziness shooting up for fun?
There's a tide for every harrowing day,
And the rips harass me in every way.

A dreamless with a knitting machine
my skin in the flow of the stream
washes down into all but a dream,
starry eyes are closed in disbelief.

An angel flutters fallen awoken,
a gift to the unable spoken,
piano keys switch to a different key,
I'm finding it too hard to breathe

She's all in white and green eyes
never by tombstone in which I died,
silky mistress so mysterious
Dressed saintly in a sunday dress.

Schooled into a rhythm of chilled
Systematically against her will
She bites my skin but there's no peace,
when my soul has always been on lease.

True-less will one day become fact,
when little limbs stop withering about,
and believe in the Reaper's one day tale,
a warning for any paper boats to sail.

Demons are all around the angelic,
am I all but one a dreamily saintly?

Lonely, naked, in the corn fields,
a stranger to this new awakening,
stitching upon new found flesh,
upon the recently perished dead.

A ****** vessel cannot sail,
and the pull-ness from the tide,
and the fields whip the wind gale,
and this leaves the shape open blind
the blind-ness sees with open shut eyes

spinning sweet, saliva,
to our child-hood waifa
innocence turns to antics,
bronze bleeding from spear,
your lips turn to frantic,
and I turn in, surrender defeated.

A tide is the ****** and thirsty,
a victim to grind of the axe,
sweaty eagles dive into the river,
to die and can't seem to relax.

The eagle's claws so sharp,
and the angels play the harp,
watching the hare ripped apart,
another gone glow, child eat the ****.
a witness to a storm of chaos,

the rodeo and all whipping lassos,
the burying and the death
shallow of the sands,
I break apart to bounce up to breathe,

The ending of a situation,
is the end of a creation,
fifteen years
can't find the gears,
lost in the now and here,
breathless and I fear.
the applause was the cause,

my craft became a special art.
I'm shot in my bleeding goose neck,
and **** of my end is my card's deck,
it will end with the joker's card,
or offensive song from the bard.

I wish I could live
inside that happiest
I ever felt in a dream
silver coin of the luckiest.

Walking arm in arm together,
Over a bridge, two lands severed,
Your sweet voice graced clear skies
why couldn't I just eternity lay,

****** brought us together,
but the head is ever hazier
than a skin growth noticed
without care or respite

Mountain air holier than the doves
An early breeze freezes from above
chills the wings of those bird that chirps
strings the emotions of the heart beating harp

One day the branches breaks away
as the flowers are stomped on,
and the silvery glint becomes stray
As a father has shame for his eldest son

Trees rattle but not from a breeze
as a guilt lays down upon the stare,
and the silent ghosts will believe
that never life was meant to be fair

Dominos do not fall always in formation
and even a sociopath realizes compassion
Sticks & twigs did always strike my face,
of a 9 year old wishing love to embrace.

One day this world will be washed away.

What would you do to pay for evil sins
I could have blamed them on an evil twin
Living within as an excuse for my actions
But we all congregate towards one faction

You can't make excuses for vile
corruption
But as a boy I was free to sail
But this world dropped fat salacious
I was only six when considered delicious.

When the marching bands,
tramples & leave to dust,
I'm left with amazing shiny
of profane instruments
strip down & left so bared
what's a flag to innocence,
when juice of apple's compared?

I'll bring you stories,
of the one heart beating,
an end to thumping,
then the one dying,
the burial of daffodils,
and all of the roses,
story of sorrow,
the one of tomorrow......

The beauty of graceful sunsets lost,
the price of non rewind deep wound cost,
addict blows the ***** itching & bleeding,
losing cardboard parts to a child laying
in the sun as the needle stings & pierces.

Lost a deep nerve frantically fierce,
reach out and touch the piercing stars,
its time to play so lets rehearse,
dream of kingdom comes remains far.

Fire in his belly as liars are on the telly
ramble and scramble, pretend to be able
screaming, ranting, pointing bony fingers
as flesh becomes death at their two cents.

" Mummy, what will I be when I grow up?"
"Son, you'll be an astronaut traversing
planets with your eyes of curiosity,
making me proud upon my death."

Sits in a ***** crack house smoking
visions of a mother's paternal dream.

Stoney is the breeze hail-storms brings,
failure is the way of our useless fathers,
a dolphin wishes to bring a cheerful sing,
as our our faults halters & gathers.
I can't blame when I'm equally to blame,
I brought down shame upon our name,
Distant seas were more than a chore.

A boil upon knee of Victorian ******,
and vicious ever blows the winter trees,
as we bring the wood and scraps to gather,
Equally as cold as shelter we shall seek
in amongst ruins beautiful & bleak.

I'm sorry my father and my mother,
torn off is the scab that skin had worn
and dust to dust is the light's little born,
just an itch in a little bit of scrap heap.

Weeps comes an angel with a leap
not able to for her destroyed lover,
and the child blows out a four leaf clover.

She appears like a quiet flow
of gentle timeless and pure glowing
show from a waterfall of sustenance.

Smooth skin, angelic sweet of a gift
touching my demonic diary memoirs,
frozen in time as the pages flicker
and re-writes like a newly pressed hand.

Her eyes a purity of splashes
of green illustrated
mesmerizes me
with a gaze loving
silk sown teasing dress,
fiery red silky worship
of every flick of hair
rosy painless smile
and cheeks I hesitantly dare
but as this keeper of the fires,
she not even be-wares...

Arrogance smirks as lungs bursts
and I realize a prince's calling,
divine is holy  to steal from apple tree?
But does not the sun need the moon
so the uniting of light merges with dark?

If temptation of two heart shaped
touching fingertips leads to ruin,
then let it **** well be,
ancient crumbling drawings
will be scrawled on every wall in hell
as I'm lost to something never to sell.
Warmth of a Goddess born to heavens
Lips moist like berries I tastily inhale...

Untitled (3 Parts)


Its breaking....
Under sea.
Underneath,
I lost all feeling,
Do fish not feel
the rod piercing?

Sometimes
I was too
Vulnerable
breakable
fragile
young
small
tiny,
me.

I'm getting tired
I'm too weary
to surface.

Resilience,
is not a word
but a death
sentence
of irony plates
I breathe in.

Hey,
do you wish
to see
the worse
in me,
the abyss
snaps
the frame,
Inner child...
its frozen eye...

I still feel,
morning train,
a rush through,
what couldn't
who wouldn't
save me.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

rocking the wooden horse,
as dark engulfs black hole,
its par for the course,
when shattered is considered whole.

Autumn leaves drying and fading,
beautiful in snow shy & melting,
Eyes darken and hair whiten,
wisdom wears on me sharpens...
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Dead and buried is the garden
I helped with my little *****,
echoes are days felt yesterday
blowing in the hallowed wind
are all the autumn leaves...