Can't help it— when I
see ink sink into paper,
I think: me on you.

She will lose herself in a book
and find herself in poetry

She thinks that religion is a sacrilege
and that long showers are sacred

She makes love when she's tired
and never tires of making love

She is irreverent in her humor
and pious in her gravity

She is diligent in completing her work
and ambitious of her quest for leisure

She is the personification of romanticism
and the embodiment of compassion

She exists harmoniously in my mind

We set off nice and slow, I was nervous, uncertain.
Don’t get me wrong, I knew what I was doing,
I had ridden before, but nothing like this.

She was so beautiful, the best I’d ever had,
Trembling beneath me I knew she could move.
She responded delightfully to my delicate touch.

With accomplished skill I flicked HER gears,
Feeling her pull a little as we truly got underway.

Negotiating the first deceptive bend,
She gave a little shimmy, a sensitive wiggle,
Forcing a tightening from me, till I gathered her up.

Assuredly taking full control once more.
Hands gripping her firmly, slowly twisting the throttle.
She bucks; growls pleasurably, we are as one.
Revelling in wilful abandonment;
Gliding in unison, so enjoyable.

Cornering sweetly, high exhilaration,
missing NOT a single beat,
Accelerating at speeds-illegal,
Too soon, too soon,
Our destination arrives.

Catching my breath I tease the brakes and relax.
Tension flowing from me; while she: she purrs like a wild cat.
I know we made good time as I gently apply the clutch,
Easing her down through the gears, she gives a little SHuDDER.

I dismount, sighing, smiling, a playful slap, yes,
Acknowledging mutual appreciation,
Already anticipating another ride,
And believe me,

It was a ride.

©Paul Chafer 2014

You're going to die
But there's a list of the 30 best cat selfies on buzzfeed
Something is going on in Ukraine, or is it Venezuela?
But it's ok...
Sherlock is back on
And you haven't finished Game of Thrones yet
God is a twisted sadist if he exists at all
But you have some notifications on Facebook
Don't think,
Just pick up the phone and play Flappy Bird
Let the feelies get to those thoughts that creep in

The revolution wasn't televised
It was tweeted
And its auto-tune remix went viral the next day

Love takes many forms,
Often takes us by surprise,
Are we defenceless against this emotion?
For that is all it is, in its entirety,
Chemical impulses sloshing through grey matter,
Forget the heart, the blood pump,
This is only for the ache, the feeling of yearning,
The brain is where it counts, headology.
We are wholly consumed, body, mind, soul,
Lack of appetite, yet, we are devoured inside out,
Gasping on awakening, if lucky enough to sleep,
Denying the truth of it, accepting what cannot be,
We dither, speculate, play scenarios,
Lament, rejoice, laugh, cry, lament again,
Every waking moment inhabited by our affection,
And yet, these feelings that hold us prisoner,
Trap us inside our own souls,
Can vanish faster than a tropical storm,
With no consideration for the wreckage remaining,
No thought for those hurt,
Love has moved on,
Fickle creature, and yet,
We adore its presence,
Hate its leaving,
And like a retreating tide,
Await its return with avid pleasure,
For nothing, nothing,
Can ever compare.

©Paul Chafer 2014

Hatred seeps through vicious eyes,
Love like a dream lost forever,
hearts forgotten together,
an ecstacy of broken sadness,
glitter trembles in minds refracted,
Broken tension forgets itself,
lost in the hands of the weary,
never safe in the caress of sin,
for poetry cannot be formed from chapped lips
your fingers ache as words relapse
breath forgets to fill your lungs
your place is gone here,
life begotten through glass shards
piercing the skin to your bones
small drops of crimson leakage
trickle from the crevices of your body,
the pain is unstable and placid
as they tear your heart out
with their bare hands....