Just Too Big.

Three words sounds like nothing, but beneath there are fountains of knowledge.

Just- this is the word of no excuse,
it is the finalising phrase,
it cuffs off the gnarled edge of argument,
it stalls and betrays simpering,

Just suggests finality,
it muses over a resolution,
a simplicity,
JUST too big leaves no room for excuses,
no alternatives,
it is a cove,
a cover entrapping the heart,
merciless and without temptation.

Too - it suggests excess,
it reveals a limit,
there are boundaries in this world,
at one point it is not too big,
at one point the line is drawn,
we all step beside the line - either past or before,

there is a quota.

Big - large and luxurious,
grand and reaching,
looming,
rolling,
it is more,
it is much,
it is a caveat of treasured rolls,
big alone is nothing,
big in abstract, in isolation,
shielded in the tight embrace of a vacuum,
is meaningless,
but paired with Just,
paired with finality,
paired with Too,
paired with limits,

Big becomes itself,
and makes a name.

Big begins to suffocate.

Out, out, out,
so wide and overt,
so overflowing and grand,
when the belly button pops,
open like a cork,
spilling juices and fresh bubbles,
we let out crooked smiles grace
the night.

Out, out, out,
with windows handing agape,
out eyes closed,
but there are slits,
cracks in the walls,
crevasses and tunnels,
secret fortunes to be broken,
so that the wolves,
hidden and growling,
in the walls,
can shake their sodden pelts,
and poke wet noses into the light,
we watch,
from our stone beds,
our eyes narrowed hallways
of spies and
clandestine destiny.

Out, out, out,
the door is ajar,
one push,
and the world will lament,
and cease,
out, into the wildness,
there is wilderness in these rooms,
hallowed halls conceal jungle,
long looming forests,
the dark undergrowth that
hides decrepit creatures in shadow,
only eyes glinting,
there is a sublime here,
a mottled verse,
only those with their hearts out,
can be lent the care of others,
and see the secret beings hidden in the cracks.

me and you,
we go together like cherries and cream,
we're too sweet,
my teeth ache,
and the pip sticks in the back of your throat.

me and you,
its always in that order,
me then you,
and some days I regret it,
that our thoughts don't swirl together in a rainbow of unison,
but we're different people,
and I sometimes matter.

me and you,
I think long ago,
we might have been real,
but then,
the world woke up,
and righted itself.

me and you,
were just a bad dream,
and I've never been good,
at remembering.

the weaver never asks himself,
why the webs are so frail.

the songstress will always sing,
except if the world doesn't listen.

take my money
take my house
take my husband
take my body
take my heart
take my life

just leave me my boy.

“delusions of grandeur”

the boy
in the silk suit
black slick skin
a penguin's belt

he is nameless
or unrecognised
or in one universe
he is both
he is neither

the sun
is cut into shards
they spike
a slit throats
but we love the sun
even if it is cancerous

do not blame the sun
it doesn't mean to
we need the sun
it is up to you to protect yourself

the boy
buttoned up
to the neck
past the shoulders
down into the ground
up to the ceiling

he is more buttons than boy

he stands right
dead centre
in the circle of
sunlight
as if he were a deity

the boy feels
the air in
tight cuffs
around his wrists

he is free now