So you blame the roses for the locust swarm
That eats away at their beauty
And drench their joyful fragrance
In misery...

Where the **** is the insecticide?

She saw him standing there,
looking at her, austere as a
cliff upon a shoreline,
unmoved by the sea.

Yet she knew that every cliff
eventually crumbles
against the unrelenting waves.

And she was unrelenting.

She would paint on a solemn face
to walk undisturbing into your world
of silver towers and streets of marble white,
yet in mine she could wear a clean sight.

She would file down her fangs
to whisper sweetness within your halls
of opulence and feigned delight,
yet in mine she'd bare them in starlight.

She would shut close her lilac eyes
to fool herself into seeing just the veneer
and not the rot beneath your noble court,
yet in mine she'd see the beauty in the dirt.

She would smother herself in lace
to blend in with the specters that lurk
within you entourage of pomp and nightmare,
yet in mine she could run naked without care.

She would drown her voice in vile liquor
to hold her soul from flying away in spite
from all that you've done in her name,
yet with me she would drink in the sky-flame.

She would be loved.
Her voice would soar.
No paint on her face.
No more.

if I was the wind
I would cover you
in summer's warm embrace
and give your lungs
the cleanest mountain air
to take into yourself.

if I was the dirt
beneath your feet
I would shelter you
from the storms
and the turbulent ways
life shakes you.
I would hold fast
and hold you close
to my core
safe from the prying eyes
of the cold midnight sky.

if I was the river
I would wash away
thine sorrows and pains
and give your lips
the cool touch of
flowing water.
I would engulf you
within my essence
and clothe your body
in ocean waves.

if I was the flame
I would warm your hearth
and fill your chambers
with the golden light
of my all-devouring love.

I keep breathing
as the deepest blue
fills my lungs with
the fresh air
of salt and wonder.

I keep breathing
as the golden flames
roast the succulent morsels
that fill belly and soul
with pepper and joy.

I keep breathing
as the wind takes me
to new and exciting
places that fill out
the mind with memories.

I keep breathing
as the soil beneath
fills every oblivion
with the emerald
of hope and renewal.

Should I keep breathing
when the depths
of despair
flood all around?

Should I keep breathing
when the fires
gnaw at the bones
of my childhood?

Should I keep breathing
when the stormwind
slashes away
memories of warmth?

Should I keep breathing
when the sands of time
drag my flesh down
into oblivion?

A taste in my mouth
that lingers on,
even though I have not
shared apricots with you.

A smell in my lungs
that soaks through,
touching my heart,
although I have not
shared hyacinth petals with you.

A tingling in my fingers
that radiates always,
in spite of the fact
I have not caressed your skin,
nor shared any pleasure with you.

A melody in my bones
that thrums in every part of me,
albeit I have not
shared any poems with you in decades.

A mirage in my soul
that dances forever,
yet I have not
shared my essence with you...

Chasing moonlight
On rainsoaked tiles
Of fired clay
And
Soot stained dreams.

Running barefoot
On late summer grasses
Burned yellow
By
A heavy sun.

Striding bravely
On sharp edges
Of crumbling mountains
And
Eroded eternity.

Embracing stillness
On snowcapped peaks
Made sanctuary
By
Ephemeral beauty.

Yours.

The wise woman said
I should take a moment
to look at the birds
singing around me
and stay in that moment.

Yet my soul wanted to fly.

The wise woman said
I should take a break
and look at the flowers
growing colourful
and focus on that moment.

Yet my soul wanted to bloom.

The wise woman said
I should be more aware
of the small things and moments
that live all around me
and focus on the little joys.

Yet my soul wanted to express its immensity.

The wise woman said
I should be smaller,
think in moments,
and find sufficient
all the little things
she's willing to let fall.

Yet my soul hungers for a place at the table.

give me pleasure
and I will give you pain.

share with me your water
and my cold hands
will rip away
at your tender thighs...
you are nothing but prey
in the harsh sands,
awaiting the slaughter.

share with me you breath
and my dead heart
will drain the heat
from your lovely bones.
watch me as I eat,
as your eyes dart
away from your death...

offer me your light, sweetheart,
let that which shines
be forgotten and broken
under my dripping claws.
fade away unspoken
letting go of all whines
until your suffering will restart.

promise me your soul,
as I drink up your brine,
yet never let the ache diminish
while I wait to dry your tears.
from start to finish
remember that you are mine,
as I devour you whole.

give me pleasure
and I will give you pain.

I look across the street
at the woman walking by.

Her slender form
in bright reds dressed,
a beating crimson heart
against the exsanguinated grey
of dry asphalt.

I look across the street
and dare not move.

Because my mother
raised me undeserving
of the time of someone
whom bleeds life into
an exsanguinated day.

I look across the street
and nothing more.

As my father taught me
to live unremarkable
and let all songbids
fade away from memory...

I could not walk with her.

I lay here
on ashen asphalt
and wait for the red
to bleed out of sight.

I look across the street
and exsanguinate
any hope of lasting love.