the moon pulls the tide over the sand like a blanket over a babe that turns in their sleep

It’s midnight somewhere and the waves repeat simple instructions
ssshhhh

we met up for a coffee
and we both got extra hot
but it was her eyes of gold
that would shimmer and scald
at that little midtown shop

three years and a day went past
where we almost tied the knot
and I stayed enthralled
'til I got a call
saying lets meet at our usual spot

and she didn't sip the coffee
as it went from hot to cold
like here eyes that glazed
on an autumn day
while they lost their flecks of gold

her smile a gentle splashing
just like that streetlamp on her door
and her voice a comforting lapping
like a wave upon the shore

but like the moon that can't keep waxing
for a night that's craving more
she left; her green eyes flashing
like a distant meteor

our crescent moon floats in idle reverie
amidst its opal lagoon
in that lacuna before the day's first morning blush
while the fish hold their breath

and as she swims,
she illuminates the heiroglyphs scrawled on the sky
in the scumbled vapourtrails of hurried planes
soon to be dispersed
by the heavy breaths of snoring gods

but i just don't ******* care
moon, please let me sleep

like venus and mars, nestled betwixt a bounty of stars
we snicker at the galaxies of gods
behind flakey, early morning lips;
waiting for the apocalypse

melting at your touch
a simple hug - our brusque
adieu

and you'll never be too much
for someone who can't get enough
of you

and the Mona's in the Louvre
and the opera's in Berlin
and the skin that I'm wearing
starts to feel like a sin

the gentle twinkle
of a distant star
speaks heavenly morse
with my fluttering heart

she told me her saturn was returning
the icing on the cake
of a well baked excuse

I asked, 'what on earth',
but she was far from it
she felt my climate change
and had jumped in a rocket

the recipe was written on the stars
and we were following it with ease
it said to turn up the temperature
but she turned 180° degrees

she was not a predictable kind of girl
not on the elliptical after work, kind of churlish,
living in a simple world type of girl

her hair cyclical in raphael kind of curls
and her biblical storm swirled whirlwind eyes unfurl
in the rain
like a pirouette
like a rose
like rolling thunder

I can't wash off the flower she drew
on my arm earlier this afternoon
A forget me not.
A game of 'she loves me. she loves me not'
A knot untied
I feel the fear that Narcissus must have felt as his ears turned to petals,
his hair to vines.
and his scream to a blooming flower

effortlessly wearing a cigarrette on her lips
head tilted high with one hand on her hips
a dizzyingly incandescent, nicotine laugh
i think i'd die for her
write that on my epitaph

deep-set moon-crater eyes
lips as red as the dust on mars
all i asked was for a little space
but she gave me all its stars

i make a wish on the shooting stars
that roll down her cheeks
a thousand tears over a thousand hours
a meteor shower; crashing onto the waves of her lips

Every second a star dies
And I'm not sure what that signifies
But when we met I used to see supernovas in your eyes
Now there's nothing grand but something simpler
And that's how it always ends
Not with a bang
But with a whimper

We begin to fall asleep
well before we run out of words
as I hold her in my arms
or am i held in hers?

like ball to glove
like light to match
like fish to hook
shes a catch

and I realised
everything I missed
like feeling her lips curl
into a smile or a kiss

I look into her eyes
while she stares into the abyss
her fingers uncurl just a little bit
and we fall asleep like this

the more I see
the less I know
that's a lesser evil
so I'll let it go

the more i have
the more i need
the greatest evil
is a little greed

the more I live
the more i'm in debt
to everything i remember
and every think I forget

and at the end of time
the meek will inherit the earth
and all its worth
which will be nothing

I'm sleeping in the lounge
because I can't sleep in my bed
because you're stained in my sheets
and a stain in my head

I've deleted all my music
and I've started anew
four thousand songs down the drain
that you listened to, too

yet I can't wipe away
all the footprints you left
down the memory lanes
in my head and my chest

and i'm the guy. the guy who's calling
and knocking on the door
and she's the sky. the sky is falling
but who's she falling for

a lifetime

i met the darling devil on her own porch
-darkling-
a wine bottle in hand
foot tapping to some underground band

she said
mi casa, su casa
my castle, your casket

I shed
my masks and my musket
said - if you need something just ask it

she smiled. her only response.
i could see she must have what she wants
to be a human on our green and blue ball
the most dangerous being of them all

she's got a voice like lavender
and a hug like a rhyme
the legs of a traveller
and a mind teeming with time

she thinks like a poet
yet acts like a priest
she's has an air of fresh breath
wisecracks stuck between her teeth

she picks them out like
apples in the market
like moses on the mount might
like crops at a harvest

that's all i have for her tonight

I've been running around
a notebook on my hip
and the sun in my eyes
and your words on my lips

i've been falling asleep
with your smell on my mind
and the faintest memory
of our fingers entwined

but I've been waking up
with a pillow by my side
and you leaving with my dreams
on the outgoing tide

make or mar
and make or break
wage your war
or wake and bake

i fall in love like i get sick
it happens on some idle tuesday
after a night in the rain

come sit at my bedside
and have a cup of tea
i'm a little low on love
and more than low on vitamin c

i kiss like i cough
and i **** like a shiver
with a wheeze
and a nose running rivers
i'll wear my heart on my sneeze

I knew a glassy eyed doll
a classy glass idol
red to excess; red lipstick
and red back-less dresses for the spine-less chick
well re(a)d in chiq cosmo - check
but purple(xed) by the cosmos
rotting, like her kombucha and compost

life might lead on like a patterned string
in avalanches of winters and spatters of spring
but I still don't know why the blackbird sings

She swoops and jives on sinatra's swing
but her eyebags halo like saturn's rings
and she patters around on tattered wings
purposefully hunting for the wasps sting
but why the blacker the bird the sweeter the sing

and its like through all that clattering
she can't hear she matters more than every thing

if she was a yawn she'd be a Sunday morning, just been snoring (dream exploring) kind of yawning
eyes closing creeping smile stretched across six pillows
blinds opening, sleep exiled, rays etched on skin in Gogh yellows
on her arms

if she was the sky she'd be fiery
if she was a Guy she'd be Fieri
blazing sunsets on silly shirts
silly dances at concerts

If she was a word she'd be a cellar door
and if she was a movie she'd be stellar wars
a euphony a symphony
music and imagery

and if she was art she'd be a dancing Degas
with the tempest of Turner and the dynamism of Dali
art for everybody but special to me

collapsing in on myself like a dying star
in the middle of the floor of some bar
on an idle Tuesday

I've already lost the keys to my car
and I've got a burn on my arm from a cigar
it feels like doomsday

don't know where love or life are
I just know I've seen them from afar
maybe they'll visit in May

actually I've run out of poems
and a pen is no longer my totem
as I wander my dreams

I'm trying to think less material
but I can't distinguish here from the ethereal
for reality's tearing at the seams

What about a dream itself
I know the weight of them so well
I guess, maybe, others will too, that means

I guess I'll stay here forever
whether I be real wherever and whenever
in the upside downs and in betweens

Hemingway might have had style
but I have finesse
better than hanging
I'd leave rope in suspense

******* a sword
I'd give an oncoming train a kiss
use a blindfold as I'm crossing the street
death is an eternal bliss

toy with auto-asphyxiation
but kick away the stool
tie my arms and legs to the bedpost
and jump in a pool

and he called her the ocean
because he'd drowned in her eyes
and been lost in her smile
shed tears in the waves of her hair

and he called her an omen
because she burns bright streaking in the skies
racking up her air miles
a comet dashing/blitzing without care

and he called her a wave
because they come hand in hand with goodbyes
but she left him with neither
on the outgoing tide

I put my hand on my heart
and promised my love
because my pockets were full

and all I can think of is sad things about wood
about how from child to adulthood
it's stuck where its put
and stood where it stood
I wonder if wood would avert its eyes if it could

soaking up the blood of Hemingway's brain
and staring into the grieving eyes of bed ridden Twain
unable to scream at the Adam and Eve, twain
as they fruitfully leapt into the mortal plane

does it retain in its rings and grains
(more than brick walls and marble veins)
memories of plague strains and reining Charlemagnes

do they like their scars and bloodied stains
or is this just a little inane/insane

there's a game we all know
that has a Monopoly over us
that doesn't take a dice to throw
nor a score to plus

its the game of Hearts
sometimes complex like Draughts.
a game of straight flushing and great blushing
in spates of gushing or candid Candy crush Crushing

sometimes there's:
star crossed Starcraft lovers
two-per scenario Super Mario Brothers
and the game's
a Tetris tete a tete
a dual duel between two beating chests
each with a Chess set missing a King or Queen they've yet to get
Romeos and Juliets
though they've only just met

and other times;
we're just trying to Connect fo(u)r two seconds for once
in this scrabble scramble through life
Risking it all in the Trivial Pursuit
of trying to fit in the Sudoku
by following some pseudo social cues
of the games creator
that says we're failures
if we're not in 2player

Atop a roof
in the neighbourhood of my childhood
I leapt for the stars
as I never thought I could

The breeze rushed past
I looked back where i stood
thinking to myself
so far so good... so far so good

see now,
the cement has never meant so much
cold heart hard to the touch
and soon back to dust

god's angel before I fell from the top
falling for the melting ***
I'd always been covered in freckles
now out **** spot

**** and the word
they've both had their prophets
people all over the world
have used them for profits

both needed mules
to carry the goods into the city
i'm out of puns
not very witty

she texted 'I dreamt of you this afternoon'
which was a promising start
'you were a paintball instructor...
and you shot me in the heart'

now - I'd never dreamed of her
(and thought that even worse)
I wondered if I should mention it
or just write it down in verse

but, that very night,
dreaming in the solace of the dark
I took part in her archery class
and she shot cupids arrow through my heart

she's been running through my mind
with her heels on
smashing all she can find
like a Hadron proton

a thousand miles an hour
she screams through the rooms
and she doesn't even know her power
like a flower in full bloom

I have poems for your twinkle toes
and similes for your wrinkled nose
how it twitches
like the Bewitched witch's

I have poems for your starry eyes
reflecting all the star filled skies
each and every glistening datum
just as if your pupils ate them

not like a black hole swallowing solar systems
******* light and all existence
but like an 8 ball of spotted shining wisdom
also like what I have written

I dress from my shelf of self-consciousness
hoping to impress myself with anomalous self confidence
mirror mirror on the wall
In truth I'm jealous of you all
not just the fairest
a more acute awareness
of all these greater things to pursue
on gods great green and blue

and the music trickled from his fingers
and transcended / ascended through the ceiling
straight through a cloud
and the stratosphere freeing

If I had one more mouth
I could say twice as many silly things

another foot
I'd just put in my mouth
mouths

another leg
and all I'd do is run
another month
I'd not use this one

another year
would mean more tears
but how bad to cry
with a third eye

Debussy's in the air
Satie's in the sea
Gershwin's growing in the ground
how much more beauty can there be

Einstein's up in orbit
Newton's sitting 'neath a tree
Schrodinger's both here and there
so where should I be

Naruda conquered love
Bukowski; Reality
Ginsberg Howled all the rest
what thought is left for me

I'd like to say something never said before
something of wonder, profundity
here it comes
here it comes

I'm coming up empty

was it love at first sight or
had I somehow loved you before
was it hormones in the blood
or something closer to the core

Like two connected hearts or souls
like two encircling black holes
was it a chance encounter
or someone sitting at the controls

Now; I don't know the truth
but I don't need to
all I know
as that I need you