One more night without you
ends another wasted day
each minute that we spend apart
makes me feel this way

No distance ever seemed so far
as that ‘tween you and I
Nor did a night ever seem longer
as in bed awake I lie

One day soon we’ll be together
nights will shorten, time will stall
From that day you will have all of me
My everything, my all.

I sing a song that has no words
to a tune that has no notes
it has a melody that no one hums
and lyrics no one quotes

But the rhythm is infectious
and the beat can drive you wild
It can start your feet a tapping
or get you dancing in the aisles

To hear it you must close your eyes
and once you do it makes you whole
the music that’s uniquely you
the soundtrack to your soul

She's a very **** lady
is that Angelina J
All the girls want lips like her
but botox ain't the way

It doesn't matter who you are
if you're a model or a dancer
You can get lucious bulbous lips
with The Duct Tape Lip Enhancer

This miracle of science
also available online
and in those "As seen on TV" shops
for just $24.99

This too is guaranteed to work
from the North down to the South
you just take your Duct Tape Lip Enhancer
and stick it over your mouth.

Now unlike the Duct Tape Diet Patch
the instructions don't stop there
You have to press it down real hard
then yank it off with a tear

See not only will your lips swell up
and be bulbous to the max
you'll also have a smooth top lip
thanks to the built in Duct Tape Lip Wax

Love and lust are fickle things
oft bought and sold for diamond rings
Sometimes confused one for each other
although not twins they could be brothers

I've tasted both and have to say
there has to be a better way
Connections made both near and far
could lead me to anam cara

A stronger bond that knows no end
anam cara is my soul friend
One who loves the essence of me
who opens my eyes that I might see

Who challenges me to look at myself
to read every book that sits on my shelf
My anam cara, my souls friend
awaits for me, round lifes next bend.

Summer at the dunes
Local island paradise
Room for everyone
Join the party stay all night
With the crowd or on your own

I hold your pictures in my hand,
as if they were life itself.
Some torn, some bent, some broken glass,
where I swept them off the shelf.

But now that anger it has passed,
and tears they fill my eyes.
I know you never meant to go.
I too am dead, inside.

Why could we not have had more time,
together you and I?
Before your sickness came along,
and took you from my side.

You fought so hard to stay with me,
and smiled through the pain.
So beautiful and brave you were,
sunshine amongst the rain.

Always I will remember,
and treasure what we had.
The mem'ry of our time together,
makes me happy, makes me glad.

I wish that I could follow you,
but here for now must stay.
To tell our baby of her mom,
and why she went away.

And tears come now not just to me,
as Rachael starts to cry.
I will kiss and hold her close for you,
goodbye my love, goodbye.

Lipstick and Chanel,
is all she left behind
and scratches on my back
I hope my girlfriend doesnt find

I didn't stand a chance
she knew exactly what she wanted
and now I know prey feels
how it feels to be hunted

Everything she said was right
she played me like a toy
coming on all flustered, scared
innocent and coy

By the time I knew it was too late
she had me in her spell
and now that I have been released
I'm left alone in hell

You have no idea the torment
the guilt and shame I feel
it was like something in a movie
it just seemed so unreal

Its like I stood there watching
like some kind of sick ******
as she gave herself right to him
and he gave himself to her

But now the movies over
cast and cameras spent
and all I can remember
is that colour and that scent

Lipstick and Chanel,
bright red and oh so sweet
only time will tell now
the future that I'll meet.

How much of what we use, is really what we need
and how much do we buy, to feed someone elses greed

We used to open windows and now we buy febreeze
then wonder why the allergies make everybody sneeze

Our homes are airtight boxes, like live-in tupperware
And yet most of us are ignorant to what poisons linger there.

We've been told that if we buy this stuff and do things in this way
Our lives will be much better, than they were just yesterday.

But yesterday the air was clear and you could hear when Robins sang
How did we ever get this far, without ylang ylang?

There’s a funeral across the road today.

Despite the freezing temperatures and impending storm, the car park is full. Friends and family fill the church to say a last goodbye to their lost loved one. At the end, the church bells toll, mournfully. The honour guard of veterans file out and line up behind the hearse, saluting as the casket is brought out.

It never ceases to make me think how that little wooden box is smaller than you would expect it to be. It never seems big enough.

I always look at the coffins and think, “I’m sure he was taller than that.”

But the real discrepancy is not in the stature of the man compared to the size of the coffin, but of the life of the one being carried within it.

Does it really come down to this?

One man’s lifetime of love and adventures, more than most judging by the honour guard, the average age and the number of mourners. Does it all it come down to wooden box that seems too small?

But then I realise something I hadn’t thought of until I sat down to write this.

The measure of this man, the measure of his life, isn’t to be found within that box or even reflected by its size. His life can be measured by those that came to say goodbye. By the sorrow on their faces for the loss of their friend. By the honour guard, standing proud and straight and stronger than their years, to escort their comrade from this world to the next.

And as the snow begins to fall, I can’t help but think, who will be there to measure my life for all to see?

Is this my midlife crisis,
my “what’s it all about?”
Everything that once were certain
is now vague and filled with doubt

The friends I thought I’d have forever
one by one have stepped aside
I’ve lost my grip on oh so many things
despite how hard I’ve tried

The urge to run away, escape,
grows stronger every day.
Am I unique in my frustrations,
or do others feel this way?

The things around me, they mean nothing,
most of the people, less than that.
These four walls around me are not home
it’s just the place I hang my hat.

When I consider my life’s purpose
there’s really nothing I can say
It's enough to do to figure out
the purpose of this day.

A stifled whimper
The sight of your back arching
Hands gripping at sheets
Head turned toward the mirror
Watching with eyes wide open.

Do you believe in serendipity?
That some things are meant to be?
Like the way our paths meandered
before you bumped into me?

He placed a single rose upon the headstone
and then turned and walked away
his heart as broken and as heavy
as ever twas upon this day

For twenty years he's made this trip
though back then he was sixty five
the forty years they shared he said
were the only years he felt alive

A small town boy and a city girl
he figured her quite the catch
undaunted by her city ways
they made the perfect match

Their love was like a fairytale
without the happy ever after
sure bad times came by now and then
but life was filled with laughter

But even to this day he says
forty years was not enough
his voice strengthens when he speaks of her
sounding not so old and gruff

He thinks about her every day
even after all these years
but each year this the only time
he allows himself some tears

He says he opens up the bottle
lets a few spill off the top
but never sheds so many
lest he find he cannot stop

Before he takes his glasses off
turns off the bedside light
he blows a kiss right to her picture
and bids his love good night

He knows in time he'll see her
and kiss her once again
its what he says has kept him going
kept him strong through all this pain

Although he doesn't know it yet
thats the last rose he will place
in sleep tonight he'll join her
once more he'll see her face

It seems quite fitting don't you think
that they should meet again today
the anniversary of their wedding
and a love that never went away

Tuft of winter coat
Snags upon an open door frame
Escapes the new brush
Tumbles upon hardwood floor
til captured by the old brush

Hand in hand we walk the beach,
as the sun sets on the sea.
Who would have dreamed,
those years ago that this is where we'd be.

I knew your face and knew you smile,
'fore I ever heard your voice.
But once we knew without a doubt,
then you could make your choice.

From passing friends we quickly grew,
to become each others air.
Without whom we would suffocate,
without which we would despair.

And then one day I heard your voice,
calling down the phone.
Telling me you'd made your choice,
that we were free to be alone.

My heart leapt and inside I wept,
not from sadness but from joy.
For now we could at last be one,
The girl could meet the boy.

Everything we talked about,
finally came true.
Its like we'd been this way before,
like we already knew.

Now hand in hand we walk the beach,
as the sun sets on the sea.
In all my years there's never been,
a place I'd rather be.

Overpaid ego's
Unlike those in sixty six
Those boys had some heart

She's dancing in the rain
when the heavens open up
She's your favourite herbal tea
drunk from your favourite cup

She's that unexpected note
upon your locker door
She's the twenty dollar bill
you find upon the floor

She's the cold side of the pillow
the first slice of the cake
She's the coffee in the morning
you didnt have to make

She's the right place in the line up
when a new cashier comes on
She's remembering the words
to your forgotten favourite song

She's everything thats good and great
thats happened in your life
She's the one that makes you proud
when you say she is your wife.

We don't have to like it
but sometimes life gets in the way
sneaks up and overtakes us
interferes with our day

We may not get the time we want
because life gets in the way
its just the way it is sometimes
it's no biggie, its okay

Perhaps one day there'll come a time
when life cant get in the way
because life is what we'll have together
each and every day

Each of us has been granted an amazing gift
Most of us don't see it yet but as the years pass we will come to cherish it.
And with any luck we will get the chance at some point to pass it on.
You will abuse it.
You will neglect it.
You will most likely take it for granted.
And on those darkest of days you may even consider yourself unworthy of having it.
But you are wrong!
If you were unworthy, you wouldn't have been given it in the first place.
I only hope each of you realize just how fortunate YOU are to have it and in doing so promise yourselves never to waste another minute of it.

I remember paper lanterns with small red candles floating down the river
but I don't remember the festival or in who's honour they were lit.
I remember roadside shrines and little envelopes of money, not proper
money but a special kind who's name I don't remember either.
I remember the big pagoda but couldn't tell you where it was.
I remember so much about those years but there's so much I forgot.
I remember warm rain and warm puddles that we jumped in with flip flops on.
I remember the little guy on the motobike and sidecar that used to come
round selling soda and taking caps for prizes and the bubble stuff in a
tube.
I remember the paper pucks with feathers in that the local kids would
play with like hacky sacks.
I remember the smell on incense in the temples
I remember the markets. The sights, the smells, the sounds of so many
things never seen or heard or smelt before or since.
I remember Hong Kong
And I'm sure its changed since I was 5 but I want to go back and see
just how much.

I want to run away from it all
to escape the rat race's incessant call
to be left to be myself
alone but happy on the shelf
I want to run away from it all

I want to start again somewhere new
Doing only all the things I want to do
No more obligated chores
Washing windows, scrubbing floors
I want to start again somewhere new

I want to buy some land and build a yurt
Live off grid so Mother Earth I don't hurt
Water heated by the sun
Organic gardening for fun
I want to buy some land and build a yurt

I want to sit a write by candlelight
Not a CF bulb or fluorescent tube in sight
No noise or light pollution
would be my perfect solution
I want to sit and write by candle light

I want to be awoken by the sun
not just on special days but every one
readjust my body clock
to natures silent tick and tock
I want to be awoken by the sun

I want to run away, you wanna come?
One is great but really two is twice the fun.
Loving life the way it's meant
Two poets in a tent
I want to run away you wanna come?

Could it be that you're my Lucy
and I'm your Charlie Brown?
As yet again you can convince me
that you'll keep the football down

And as I take my run up
in the hope I'll kick the ball
deep inside I know you'll pull away
and on my *** I'll fall

Now we're not cartoon characters
but I share in his belief
that one day things will be different
that there'll be no "Oh good grief!"

I have this magnificent puzzle hanging on my wall that I made years ago.

I can’t remember exactly but I think it’s 797 pieces

Yes that’s right

797

Because there’s pieces missing.

All sky pieces, one sky piece toward the top and over to the left and two over to the right.

They stick out like sore thumbs and everyone comments on them. Like I hadn’t seen it before.

“Do you know you’re missing a few pieces of your puzzle there?” they ask.

Some even look at the floor to see if somehow they had miracoulsly wormed their way out from between the glass and card backing and fell to the ground. Because obviously it must have happened since last time I vacuumed.

So I just shrug and tell them that I know. And I tell them that they’ve always been missing, even when I framed it, they weren’t there.

This at least stops them looking at the floor.

Quite often they’ll tell me that I should have taken it back and got my money back or got a different puzzle. One with 800 pieces instead of 797.

But I tell them no. I like my 797 piece puzzle.

I like it because it reminds me of life.

Just because life is missing a piece or two you don’t put it back in the box and return it for a refund or a different one or throw it away.

Just because you put a lot of work into life and find out that there’s pieces missing you don’t just scrap it.

You should adapt to life with missing pieces.

You should be making the best of it and be proud of its uniqueness.

It especially reminds me of my life

My life is incomplete, my life is missing a few things, but the views pretty good.

And every now and then you’ll catch me looking around for those missing pieces, it’s a habit I guess.

What happens when an eye for eye
has left the whole world blind
Will that be the time we see
we should've left the past behind

With each liberty they take
with each human right ignored
they build for us a prison
for the safety it affords

Until we are no longer free
and they've stopped us being brave
by promoting threats and fear
to make sure that we behave

Forgiveness is the only way
to get peace back on the shelves
for until we forgive others
we will never free ourselves.

Am I someones "one that got away"?
Do I keep them awake at night,
with regrets that thing's weren't different,
that they'd not given up the fight?

Is there someone there that thinks of me,
on those damp depressing days,
that makes them smile out the window,
chasing their blahs away?

Do they search for me on Facebook,
have they Googled me at all?
Do they see me here with nothing,
or do they think I have it all?

I guess for sure I'll never know,
if they don't or if they do.
Kinda makes you wonder though,
does someone do that for you?

I thought I understood your pain,
please forgive me, I was wrong.
There was once a time I would have,
but I see now its been too long.

To see the tears well in your eyes,
brings me crashing to the ground.
To think I am responsible,
causes guilt just too profound.

I did not say the words I said,
to try and cause you pain.
But to comfort and console you,
give you shelter from the rain.

I came to say goodbye to you,
and to bury my lost friend,
'cause you never know how short life is,
until you reach the end.

So please forgive me leaving
for its time that I was gone
I will carry you both in my heart
so you'll never be alone.

Experiences are raindrops
falling through the sky
each one precious, each one different
let me tell the reason why

Our life is like the sky you see
through which these raindrops fall
we savour precious moments
but cannot keep them all

and so they pass right through our lives
and leave barely a trace
not affecting if we win or lose
just how we ran the race

No matter if they're good or bad
there's one place they all go
to join the waters of our life
and urge the rivers flow

and as they join the swirling mass
on the surface or down deep
they become like distant memories
we were not able to keep

but while they're tumbling through our lives
and we can still enjoy the ride
we try to find the happy ones
from the other ones we hide

but in the end they all become
part of the river bed
as the waters of our life dry up
and leave us here for dead

It's time to put the baggage down,
I've carried all these years.
The broken dreams and promises,
that caused so many tears.

For years now I blamed myself,
like I somehow was the cause,
and you let me go thinking that,
without so much as a pause.

And like a dozen bags of groceries,
I carried it around,
without ever even thinking,
I could just put them on the ground.

The handles cut into my fingers,
sometimes a bag would split,
and the contents would come spilling out,
and send me to that pit.

The one where daylight does not reach,
the one filled with despair,
to wallow in my misery,
too tired to even care.

But a wise man told me yesterday,
that baggage is just that.
Something you can put down,
and leave upon the mat.

It does no good to carry on,
with burdens and self blame.
Those with destinys to care for you,
will do so just the same.

So check your baggage at the door.
Leave your pack upon the ground,
and feel free to leave it here,
amongst heartaches lost and found.

Let us fill this notebook,
with the words we dare not speak.
Of a love that is forbidden,
lest the havoc it would wreak.

For now we'll keep it secret,
a place to rendezvous,
where you can talk of me,
and I can talk of you.

A place to ask the questions,
normal lovers get to ask.
Only ours will be handwritten,
such is the nature of our task.

A place to write sweet nothings,
and lines of loving prose,
to share our private jokes,
and act like everybody knows.

We'll take turns to enter something,
for each month we are apart.
Consider this my entry,
your turn to grab a pen and start.

But one day we'll take this notebook,
sit together, look within,
and on that day I hope we find,
this single entry found therein.

I wanted to write a poem about peace
but I was too angry
I wanted to write a poem about love
but my passion was elsewhere
I wanted to write a poem about freedom
but there was nothing to stop me
Just as there is nothing to stop you
But you wont
You would rather write about hate
About how people shouldn't be allowed to say that because its not nice and its not respectful and it offends you
But you don't say "they"
because you don't know who they are
You don't say their names
because you can't be bothered to find out
You identify them by their religion
because of the clothes they wear
You identify them by their race
because of the colour of their skin
You took a handful of people and used them to taint almost a quarter of the worlds population.
Congratulations.
And now your words are circling the globe, spreading hate and intolerance while at the same time spreading their message, and so it begins.
The spiral of hatred and terror and fear and mistrust that ends with some young Arab kid kicked to death on the streets of London "cos he looks like a Muslim". The same spiral of hatred and terror and fear and mistrust that ends with a young Muslim walking into a market in Baghdad and killing hundreds as he martyrs himself to defend his home against the invading infidels.
And the only thing that's changed is the body count
The only thing that's changed is the number of mothers and fathers and brothers and sisters and sons and daughters who will have one more reason to cry on this day and mourn their dead while others protest the loss of theirs.
And so it goes on.

If only it had been my words that had circled the earth first and not yours, we may have learned something actually worth learning.

If you really want to stop the killing and the dying and the mourning and the protests that offend you so much, copy and paste THIS and show the world there are still those that can think for themselves, that there is still hope.

Why are you so far away
and yet so close to me
There so much I want to show you
so many things for you to see

So many things that we could do
if we were given time to share
will it always be just daydreams
me always here, you always there

will we ever camp out on the beach
watch the sunset from the sand
or walk along the shoreline
together hand in hand

will we get to dance in silence
to that tune inside your head
or lay within each other’s arms
sleeping together in our bed

will I ever get to see the smile
that creeps across your face
as you think about these questions
and picture our embrace

This list goes on forever
is that how its meant to be
in time we’ll know the answers
one day soon I hope we’ll see.

Will I ever be that someone
that keeps your sleepless soul awake
Will I ever be the longing
that leaves your heart sure it will break
Will I ever be the vision
seen when at night you close your eyes
Will I ever be the passion
unquenched betrayed in distant sighs
Will I ever be the one true love
that you regret casting aside
Will I ever know the truth
of every tear you ever cried
Will I ever be the one mistake
not repeated do you vow
Will I ever hear you tell me
how you feel about me right now

Is it ironic
that the child with terrible handwriting
expresses himself better with the written word
than he does the spoken?

sunset summers eve
golden hues on passing day
and so night does fall

What dreams may come to me this night
yet disappear by mornings light
What visions there of you and me
my waking hours will never see

The touch, the taste, the smell of you
Is cast out by the sun
But in the first breath of a brand a new day
Lies the scent of dreams to come

If you give too much to someone
it gives them more to take away
leaving yourself with nothing
should you ever see that day

The pain of loss is not forgotten
so it takes years to get it back
only this time it is different
there are parts of it you lack

Where once you trusted everything
there's now an element of doubt
Where once you gave yourself completely
there's a piece you hide and wont let out

The things you thought were here forever
have been shown to never last
And the people in your future
pay tolls for others from your past

And then one day there is a moment
a twisted clarity descends
that happy ever after
is not the way your story ends

The grandfather clock in the hallway punctuates the darkest moments of my life
Not the plastic passing of time but the deep resounding timbre that you only find in proper clocks
Proper clocks with keys and not batteries, with brass faces and ornate hands.
With roman numerals and not numbers, chains and weights and wheels and chimes.
A sooundtrack lost in the hysteria of day that, but as darkness falls
it becomes the very essence of a sleepless night
.
.
Tick
.
.
Tock
.
.

Smugglers paradise
Casablanca '41
Sam plays it again
A black and white love affair
That is far from black and white

Frightened and confused;
a soul so absolutely lost.
On a bridge above a river asks
"Is the freedom worth the cost?"

I still lie awake at night
waiting for you to show
hoping that you've changed your mind
and decided not to go

I hide my pain from public view
behind a familiar mask
lest someone spot the real me
and take my soul to task

I know that you are hurting too
as I read the words you write
and I wish that things were different
as I lie awake at night

So for now I'll keep on waiting
and hoping that you'll show
From the moment I first held you
I never wanted to let go

It saddens me to see
the way my country bleeds
after leeches in the media
create frenzies just to feed

Xenophobic journalists
poke angry mobs with pens not sticks
distorting truths on paper
so they can get their kicks

Who knows now what the truth is
behind the stories that we read
Sensationalised *******
to create a headline lead

So before you jump aboard
the jingoist express
ask yourself who feeds
on the freedom of the press

I love you; its a secret,
don't let anybody know.
That's why when we are speaking,
I try not to let it show.

I double check each word I say,
before it leaves my lips,
and try to shake this image,
of my hands upon your hips.

So tell me how'm I doing?
Do you even have a clue,
that every waking thought I have,
is always about you?

I wish I could just tell you,
and know you wouldn't run.
But I'm scared this revelation,
would leave us both undone.

I love you; its a secret,
which to myself I'll keep,
cos the last thing that I wanna do,
is come off like a creep.

So I sit here and say nothing,
not knowing what to do.
Praying one day you will say,
just what I am to you.

When life has taught you,
through experience,
that two unrelated things going wrong at the same time,
will beyond a shadow of a doubt,
**** everything up that really matters.

This is no Haiku.
It just looks like it might be.
But looks can deceive.

What makes me your enemy
is it the colour of my skin
the clothing of my people
or just the country I live in?

You do not even know me
don't know what I believe
but you revel in my childrens death
without leaving me to grieve

You came to liberate us
but you cant call this free
we get stopped and searched at roadblocks
by soldiers for your country

I understand you are scared
citizens of new Rome
but that does not, give you the right
to invade anothers home.

Especially as your reasoning
was a fabric made of lies
is it really any wonder
you're the ones we now despise?

You and I are different,
you have gotten that much right.
You have a democratic system
you can use to stop this fight.

You can call upon your government
citizens of new Rome
to end this forced invasion
and bring your soldiers home.

For although we are quite different
in how we look and how we speak
Neither of us want to die
there's common ground we seek

We share a common wish
for this war to end and cease
So we can raise our children
to live a dream of peace

Take the best thing you can think of
times by two, no make that three
and you now have but a fraction
of just what you are to me.

Every time it goes to **** a little piece of me dies with it.
Hearts break sure, but they also mend over time.
What stays broken, what breaks more than it recovers every time though,
is hope
the belief in happiness
the belief in trust
the belief that if you put your everything into something
into someone
that it will all work out in the end
that knowing you would do anything would somehow mean they would too
that they forgive as you would
that they would work at it as you would
that they are somehow as committed as you are
all these things die a little each time, and never come all the way back

to kiss your neck with these here lips
just once
to place my hands upon your hips
just once

to draw your body close to mine
our legs and spirits intertwine
to take you and make love to you
just once

to wake one morning on your arms
just once
to be sedu-ced by your charms
just once

To lie and watch you get undressed
to feel your hands upon my chest
to see into your very soul
as our two halves become a whole
just once

throwing caution to wind
just once
sinning like we've never sinned
just once

A passionate intensity
that gets the best of you and me
and lets us be all we can be
just once