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Andrea Cullen Aug 2013
Philoxenic appetence
                                Misplaced
Disproportionate benevolence
                                               Dissipate
Myself: an object, given away
A transient drifter with always somewhere to stay


Exuberant sorrow ever-wishing to deject
                    Distortion
Deception duplicates
A heart burnt black
Focussed on the lacking, unable to bounce back


Mouths to feed
Needy hands grapple to extract
No fact needed
Smoky contortion
Inhaled greedily

Ready for the downfall
Open to the wind
Upward spirals shy away from the world they crave
Mischievous nymphs dance merrily on a stage,
Unmade
Then lay down to cradle their babes


Slaves to the slovenly
Behaviour of unrest
I know they’re trying hard but is it their best?
Sing a song of sixpence, your fingers in my pie
Life is not serious
We’re all destined to die
                 High.
Andrea Cullen Feb 2013
I tried to reach you; gone too late
gone as is our love, gone with the winds of fate
I tried to teach you; once then twice
one two many ears closed to advice
I tried to touch you; soft and hard
head already weary, heart already marred
I tried to clutch you; loose too tight
haggard by purpose, limp with blight
I tried to feel you; fathom then grasp
grains of sand in the hand that escapes the clasp
I tried to heal you; no pill nor vial
******-hypochondriac living in denial!
Andrea Cullen Feb 2013
I found you, lost
Always-never-winning, loser
Yesterday I tried to dream but reality is drawing closer
False realities shade truthful colour
True reflections show no other
I found you, lost
Always-never-winning

You found me, sung
Always-ever-striving, singer
Tomorrow sees dream revealed but love empty tends to linger
Broken promises obscure good intent
Repeated mistakes seek to relent
You found me, sing
Always-ever-striving
Andrea Cullen Feb 2013
Caged in a prison, high on a hill, actions ensued but didn’t quite fit the bill
Words of not-always transformed promises to forever,
Side by side, naught to hide,
despite the cloudy weather
A friend, a rock, a ship almost wrecked was looking to dock

Alone in the harbour, under the moonlight,
Ashamed,
The half-wreck shone bright for what it was famed.
Tough stains were covered, remains left undiscovered to be smothered by another
Heart still full of what was before, keen, loveful pursuers already knocking at the door

Cabin wide open: “Ahoy mateys! Ahoy!”
She soon set sail with the innocent boy.
Tides were rolling on peacefully by, some of them were low tides but mainly they were high,
When in need there was a shoulder upon which to cry
And the girl thought the boy would help her get by.

Way out at sea on a tropical isle the boy showed the girl daemons not seen in a while
Opened her up and dove right in, illustrated the flaws of reacting to whims
Open
Broken
Alone at sea,
the boy turned his back as she fell to her knees

Floundering, drowning, thrashing in the waves
The girl succumbed to what her daemon craves
Underwater tears remain unobserved
A not-so-sly Fox spoke of acts undeserved
An unsure girl, curled up, abashed
Covered up the act and watched her daemon be tamed

A ship in the darkness, a ship under the stars
Saved the girl and craved the girl and hoped she knew right
And Oh! How she flourished in this dependable new light
“Love and peace, me mateys!”: a new reason to fight

The boy on his island, soon to return,
Will see that the shipwreck upon which they met, though
not
yet
quite
perfect
Trawls the coast to find an isle of its own
And though different to first-envisaged, Bristol shall be its home.
Andrea Cullen Feb 2013
Broken footsteps dart in and out of shadows
A voice in the distance considers itself hallow
Brave, empty words pleading for forgiveness
Repeat
Retreat

Warm caresses in a light born new
Notches on a bedpost with nothing else to do
Soft tender words promise forever
Believe
Retrieve

Heart weary aches for torment
Closed doors and corridors: naught left to vent
Formless silences cling to nothing
Bring
Sing

A song for the lonely
One for the not-so-proud
A song for him only
Hanging silence sings loud
Andrea Cullen Dec 2012
Silence resonated
Ear-drums react
Kindness demonstrated
Stille Mitternacht

Weinachten ist vorbei
Noel est parti
Shred the wrapping paper!
Limp, lifeless tree
Andrea Cullen Dec 2012
Melancholic misadventures and misanthropic moments make meeting men more and more meaningless,
Meaning less and less to those who undress to convene in the act of adulterated ***.


Flex:
Point!

Sit down,
Smoke a joint,
Go to sleep,
Work,
Eat,
Wash

(sometimes, not too often)
Feign attraction
and smile with your eyes as you die on the inside

Darkness outside


Whilst wintery winds whistle,
the worldly-wise whittle on and on in their wordy way of the other-worldly wonders they have witnessed.

We can but wish that their wily whispers will soon diminish with the melting snow
Or else go,
Turn your back on all that you lack before you step on a crack, break that back and see it refract through the prism of the microcosm of your mind

Colour-blind

Lost

Trying to find


Be found

My heart beats yet I hear no sound
As plasma pumps passionately through my pallid passages and I ponder partially perceptible pursuits that preside in my past

Digging deep down into the depths of my ***** deeds discloses a discerning dichotomous divulgence of doctrine and dogma

Two mothers
Three brothers
One sister
And a whole load of Misters!
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