My  grave is where I dig each night ,
above me hangs one gas. fire light

But if love was ever meant to be ,
It wouldn’t be for the likes of you and me
and when i think of what i once owned ,
was nothing but a butterfly.

And if that butterfly had wings ,  in all my hopes ,
fears and dreams .

And if those dreams turned to flowers,
that wither and die ,
but still last for hours,
and as those hours pass ,
at the bottom of a
hour glass .

And if those hours turned into days ,
perhaps then that might save me from this grave ?

But days were never meant to last ,
and one day they will become a thing of the past .
And so in my digging I came across a fly ,

and that fly was trapped by a  web ,
and in that web a spider lay which was eaten by
a bird in May,
and the birds then flapped their tiny  wings
and got eaten by a cat who did naughty things ,
Who scratched the dog
who chased the cat that ran around and around
my neighbors flat .

And so it began as if for days ,
The never ending ceaseless din of praise .
that in this world nothing ever wins ,
and all must one day be taken up ,
beyond this grave ,
Or  get swollowed up,
by a giant whale
And so , as moths gather around a fire ,
and a  fisherman mends his nets ,
catching fish ,
only to save them from an open fire .

A fallen rose without a name ,
will the world ever be the same ?

A falling tear that falls from you’re face ,
just before you’re warm embrace ..

Both of these things I will do ,
all in memory of you .

For i will  hold in my hands the Autumble showers God has planned ,  and when rain clouds appear  from afar ,
I shall awaken the morning star .
With such beauty such as this  ,
from which I was blinded from such a kiss .

Which is why I never saw you’re rose of nameless  grace ,
fall in silence before my face .

And I never saw you’re tear ,
thou I was forever   near .

But I will still hold rain clouds up in my hands ,
for that is what God has planned ,
for I felt you’re hug when you were near ,
and for that I will hold up
the world ,
my dear .

(/Woman )”:;O charm me sir so that I might never sleep ,
with you’re words so beautiful and sweet .
bewitch me with you’re poetic words
However daft or obserd.
And love me thou my pale is dry,
that you might fill it Untill I over flow with joy .
That i if I were to awaken you’re love ,
In the pure essence of a flying dove .



Then spindle or twine
Let Love then.  Spin the final twine.

And upon that Twine a needle be thread ,
stitched in red into  the garments of my bed .”

Man ) “But alas I cannot spin or thread or weave ,
for all. You’re practices are to deceive .
And to capture thine ,
for that Would be a waste of time .”

Woman);”Then read me that book you were writing just now
In soft white sheets I will listen some how ,
whilst the candel still burns bright .
For I will weave a spell that will fill you with
all the desires of hell .”

Man )“ But that will cause my words to arouse ,
and the wind and rain will begin  to howl .”

Woman )”Then let hell awake for I shall lie on this bed
Untill you’re softly spoken words have been said “

Man ) “Then be gone with you
my candel blows
and when the wick is out ,
Then Satan himself will be cast out .”

Earthly  shadows fell
as  black clouds in slow procession started to meander
across the sky ,
as  grave yard  tombs started to cover  my eyes ,
the moment you’re presence left my  bed .

For you’re love for me that which once lit up my  skies
in radiant colours of you and I ,
a furnace that once set the moon ablaze
in so many different ways .
And  comets burnt the atmosphere that
was set ablaze in falling rays ,
the moment you drew near .


For you touched my heart in so many ways ,
like when we walked as if for days ,
across  planitory realms of space
forming
shooting stars of amazin grace .

For  we would watch the sun fall and rise
in glorious colours before our eyes .
“ For there lies infinity”  you said
as you squeezed my *** just before bed .
from which billions of stars are formed ,
and then die
each one set
before our eyes ,
like in some cosmic catastrophe,
like a story time that didn’t rhyme ,
as children cry themselves to sleep ,
in loving memory of little Bo Peep .


But for a time we lived,
and died ,
in such a short span of time
like shooting stars before our eyes

Goodbye my love
as I touch you’re ghost ,
but it’s what I want to feel the most ,
the soft touch of scent upon you’re skin ,
as if some day  we could start again ?

Love is like  a flake of snow that falls gently  from the skies ,
and dissapears before you’r  very  eyes .
For it was never meant to last ,
like morning due on a blade of grass.

Yet How sweet the tulips song in spring that dances on a song birds wing ,
and disappears in the falling rains
from  where the black butterflies and Gobolix  came .

Where Deep in the forests there’s is  a bridge of dreams
Where everything isn’t always what it seems .

Where love is all ******* in a bow ,
with forever hearts,
and a lovin glow .
For It is a place you don’t want to go .

For when the  black butterflies clouds  the skies ,
for they will one day drain the colour from you’re eyes .
For Gobolix   have wings that fly
and Steal dreams from every sun lit sky ,
and from any lovers walking, by drawing shapes of hearts
in the sand .


For if you see one with flashing tail ,,
and searing eyes
as  the zephyr   start to howl and
and the winds start to wail ,
and the rains begin to spit venom as if
from a cage .

For one day  the due will pass ,
for it was never , meant to last .

But if it does  and you see no fear ,
then Hold fast to love ,
My dear ,
for then you will know the gobolix
Is forever near .

O darkest night
that spake not in loves fairest white flowers descend
that fall  in fragile pieces ,
perfumes that ignite   into. loves never ending   flame .
But is so then dashed upon life’s cruelest shores ,
where seagulls who’s heads were smashed against the rocks
died in agony once more .
once again to be denied life’s sweetest joys ,
against that now blood red shore .
And loneliness is but like a feast to every pedetory bird ,
and beast ,
that swoops
scavages
lurks and
feasts ,
Upon every lonely  soul
Who walks this earth
Who’s ghostly apparitions dine alone ,
as a Spector is at a  feast
where lovers  gorge on wine and beef .

O darkest night without a friend
Where lovers walk
May shadows end ,
So I alone might be so near
so as to hear every lovers heart felt chear

even so ,
they can never be
ever so belong to me .

of Thine ,
which are
Pruned back from
thy blessed vine ,
can never be forever mine .

The poets dream
Is to gaze in wonderment at fields unseen
and to be inspired by what he has seen,
in every rain drop ,
and tear that departs ,
inspired by a falling heart.
In every rock that blocks our way,
to more happier and forfilling days
to become more jagged and rough then we were before ,
yet pure .

And as that field of green grows white with snow and with every starry night ,
that violates nature’s vibrant glow
that one day soon
It might. Become ripened by the rains and sun
blossom and become fruitful
again. as one.