I know that there was more to her than
what my eyes could see
if only I was closer
though I knew I'd never be,
she moved like silk on satin sheets
all shimmering and light and
what my
eyes could not see
I
imagined through the night.

Behind the face another face
that looked out on the sea
and another face behind that face
with eyes
that looked at me
if only I was closer
though I knew I'd never be,

as she moved closer to me
it seemed that I had moved away
and the night flew out on golden wings
with the coming of the day.

Hi,
my name,
incognito
and where does the
night go when the Sun
shows her face?

My favourite place?
you don't want to know,
but it's somewhere the night goes
when the Sun shows her face.



The government..

..Living wage?
a crying shame.
and shame upon those
who support this.

More than just pals
I loved her
she wrote me
Ghazals
I loved her
she told me goodbye
I loved her
I wonder why
I loved her.

(20 minute poetry)

This has gotta be wack
when you open your eyes and find
you're out on a day trip travelling back, but unsure of the why of it.

Not sure of anything though it all looks familiar.

Then a switch flicks on and I'm back to where I belong and wondering why or if I was worried at all.  

It's the shaking if lenses are shook that makes me look on the dark side and to look there is to be there even if only in spirit.

When 'Marley' comes upon me and the chains start to rattle
I battle as best as I can.

one man against an army of ghosts.

Unenviable odds about evens
although the bookies have them
as clear favourites, but what would
they know?

Self preservation and protestations of innocence or guilt are what built the empire
I'd fire the lot of them and take my chances with dead men.

It's gotta be
wack
switch.
and I'm back.

I was awakened
only yesterday
and suddenly
I got old.

The  night flew in like a Kamikaze on patrol and I
the target vehicle lost control and tried to flee, but the pilot
of this flying bomb could not fail to see the terror trail.


before the end.

Then
it's not dark anywhere and the air is light,
the drone of the engine carried away with the night
but the chattering of my nerves serves as its own master.

Two alka seltzer in a white wine spritzer
I might as well feel alive and drunk,
dead drunk is a dead loss.

Weaving slowly a carpet from the day may be the way to keep out of sight, a covering over me to keep the kamikaze from seeing me.

Either way or anyway the day will end.

What man can be and cannot see to see what man can be and are the words that come so free
from the fountain
that spouts inanity?

They send another and another and the night becomes my brother, some time good and times when bad is bad, scuff marks on the overhang and split nails when enough's enough
I'll stand and catch the blast or mix a drink and watch the pills dissolve.

both eyes on the sky which fades to cemetery black
and the night is back.

I surrendered
unconditionally
she accepted on condition
we
made love.

A snake
chequered flag black
curled and crawled
down her
long slender back.

The tattoo parlour and
the artist therein
had captured precisely
its movement
in each little *****
of the ink coated pin.

Spinning wheel red
my eyes being fed
to a python.