If journeys did not have crossroads,
They would have no starting point,
Or natural ending.

When I read the works of other here,
Dumb struck that I ever dare,
To offer up words and ask for your
Love and affection.

But then reminded,
Each one, each poem a crossroads,
Sends me on a new direction,
And I must leave some crumbs of me
If, my unseen home, I shall ever see,
Or ever return to, when I am voyager
No longer.

You can't handle the truth.

Tell them that when they ask,
But don't really give a ****,
Not wanting to really know.

Do ask me, ******!

**You can't handle the truth.

If I had a million hearts,
they'd all be yours.

how can i miss something
or someone that i've
never had?

i'm pretty ****
good at it,
if you ask
me.

All those pretty little 20-somethings
with adoration in their eyes
Whom I did not have the heart to tell
its destined for demise
Can now rest assured
I got what I deserve
I found a similar
to which I fell
on empty words.

I am one of those
who do watches
and people love to watch me -
they watch, but ironically,
they call me Watch Man

Well, for a start, I can eat watches
At a recent show
I ate 4 watches in 6 slow hours -
it was time-consuming

My wrists stretch on the touch of
watch bracelets
and so they made me wear many to see
how many I could wear on each wrist
20 on either wrist is what my stretch could take –
yeah, you could say,
I just had too much time on my hands
Last on show they made me wear a belt of watches
which was a pretty waist of time,
if you know what I mean

Look I’ve applied
to join DC Comics
Me as Watch Man
along with the likes of Iron Man, the Hulk
and Spider Man and such characters nondescript
But I’ve been turned down
Just not your time yet, I’ve been told

Well, so I content myself meantime
as Watch Man at Freak Shows
Doing the Time
before my Big Time
When there are enough time-savvy people
Who can recognise the genius
of those who do watches

Autumn’s still yawning.
Sunlight seeps between
a few trees and leaves pools
of yellow drool.

A crow nearby looks up,
a black speck
climbs the steps
but then, as a bullet, it’s gone.

Moss, like acne
tiptoeing up the track
around my feet
stains the ground green.

A broken-bone crack,
a twig split in two
joins other brunette arms and legs
strewn everywhere.

Clouds begin to blush
silver above my head.
I hope I get home
before they start to weep.

Dying with a winking eye
A smile so broad for death to see
Every tooth inside my ancient mouth
Expressing radiant love and empathy
My cheeks will swell with bulging cheer
Well-worn wrinkles form in the corners of grinning lids
A starry twinkle amongst exploding nebula iris
As silken lashes catch the days last wind

A hearty laugh makes a final human sound
The merry breath wheezing in and then forever out
of cavernous lungs
Rattling against homely walls

Kicking down the unlocked door, of which you have a key
The halls of Amenti are calling now
The shrouded veil surrounds the flaming flower
As the final grain spills to sandy bottom
And the thumping of the ticking heart
Stops in life’s twilight hour