******* me over, every single day
Wish this pointless life I'm living, had more to say
All my soul is hearing, is this screaming erray

Losing more grip on life, with every painful good-bye
It is turning out, this whole world before me is all a lie
My heart is telling me, I will never have the strength to fly
I lay here in this bed of thorns, and cry, cry, cry.

Perservering does no good, when all i do is bleed
Dripping out the agony, my soul must soon be freed
Freed today, or freed tomorrow, I will surely die if I'm in lead
Everything I do in life, I'm failing to succeed
So instead of trying for same pride, I bleed, bleed, bleed.

At first light I made a gift of coffee
it’s aroma stirred just one long leg
I lifted her naked into the wet warmth
to bathe awake and wash long hair
carrying her towelled wrapped form
bowed lips now sip then fight me
as I dress her in jeans, socks and top
beauty made calm and simple

Drunk sad at her leaving party
keeping her warm I had let Lust sleep
now still lolling in grief for dark peace
my selfish need drags her ****** up
into light trapped by the green valley
walking on along its grass path
the canoed river spits past a-whirl
rediscovering the torn through pocket
her hand delves questioning
to withdraw unhurried, stroked
by a flicking fishing rod

Recovered now leading me
over the bridge above the Boat
then on up the steep valley side
we arrive at the Ostrich for beer
then to dine on fish in the open
feeding and sharing her lips
we consider audaciously
the little garden’s potential
she hums prayer murmurings
pleased by the moment

On into the nearby woods
high above the Kings trail
to slowly descend hedged paths
we return to the river valley
slipping between shop doors
lifting a book we idle along
a new couple enjoying life
taking tea under waterfalls
back  besides the Boat where
her beauty is now Queen

She leads me smiling by the hand
along both banks in the setting sun
till we near the Abbey's stone ribs
skipping around it's green shadows
a bank helps us to vault within

Fenced alone
ignoring distant figures
jeans and top colour
the darkening lawns
beckoning me closer
Lust now sits astride  
the grass and stone
an open ****** grin

A week only, no more
I am left alone in her bed
on this smaller island
she ashore in another
busy - separated by a day
we talk lovers spells
and write away our hopes

Three months and two days
a call ‘******* we were....
pregnant” her sacrifice ours
on a stainless alter of
that new god Career**


.

grinning(green clad)devil
satted silent in
a sharp cafe
waiting eternal

in walks man
sighing sadly sits
across from greengrin devil
forked tongue river
roils implications

"thou art the skin of weak *******"
drips emerald

"this i know, yet unable to face its truth, i find my i"
ripples trite man

in this way satting
supping murky fluid
sin gestates
in celadonian
lips

I look into the staggering blue of the sky
The sun shines, but it still snows
As if spring has arrived
But winter is still fighting to stay
Flakes fall all around me
like shrunken stars descending to Earth
Each one that lands on my tongue
brings me future luck
The sun reflects off of their sides
Causing the air to twinkle
To twinkle like falling stars...

On the swampy fields of an exhausted war
Of a country torn apart in strife,
Warriors fight for their own causes,
For peace
For bread
For glory.
But one has loyalty to neither side.
A shadow
A snake
A Traitor.
A spy infiltrating their defenses.
She knows all their secrets, and yet she knows nothing—
For who doesn’t question the point of their existence?
She knows nothing of the future.
Why try? You find nothing by searching the murky waters of destiny.
And nothing is what she cares about.
She leads a lonely life.
A mercenary
A thief
A Snitch.
The **** of existence.
But it’s an interesting life.

At least for the time being.

Up in the land of Temalahoo's
the people forgot the number two!
The start of races was often cut short
with a Three... One... oh wait! Abort!

Nobody could seem to come up with a fix
except for the little jolly kid Nix.
See little Nix was really quite young
about eleven months past the age of one.
Never forgetting his next step of the way
little boy Nix knew the number astray.

But because of his age, no one would listen
and little boy Nix grew frustrated with them.
He hooped and he hollered that lonely lost number,
but simply could not awake his fellow mind's slumber.
And it wasn't until he had long since grew,
that little boy Nix got through to the Temalahoo,
but by then little Nix was no longer so small
and he too had forgotten along with them all.

guns they fire planes they roar
soldiers fight to win the war
bombs are dropping all around
as they explode along the ground
lives are lost and people cry
lives so young that have to die
giving life to fight the cause
to live in peace with no more wars