You remind me of the moon
I know that I will see you soon
But how can a heart be so cold
When all I can feel is like I’m scold

Why am I so dumb
I just want to feel numb
All I can hear was your voice
I fall and I know it wasn’t your choice

Everything was clear and simple
Now it’s all cliche and I feel *******
I can’t understand what I’m feeling
But I hope someday It won’t be failing.

“I would rather be a pessimist who wears optimistic underwear - French knickers, please, in rose-pink satin;
Than a greyscale optimist wearing overboiled cotton."

Rest assured, confidently
This face you see is a mask irresponsive
Colden by previous wars, every wrinkle is a battle wound
The bigger the frown the heavier the wars
Pay more closely, your attention, to this strut
You see this walk, not burdened by this face
The elegant, inviting, nature of my posture
The swiveling of these hips
This face is just a mask irresponsive
Not even Satan himself is able to break it.

paranoiac-critical method
       unsure where I’m headed
               Dali among the Dead and...


         the Golden Ratio still embedded.

So, now i am nothing without you and I'm old braving wrinkles shorter years days gone quicker losing interest
In all else but you
Needing now like a starving beggar
On the corner of 3rd and main.
Sore knees a cold lingers my fingers
Drawing up
Just alone
It's 12:39
I can't sleep it's
Your haunting my soul
Not the tv always on or the last beer.
I think of you
In your bed
And me here
And how to make
Miracles happen.
Hope after hope
Glows then burns out drowned like the
Wick of an un-trimmed candle
But I know
that flicker of your eye I miss
And your kiss
And your sighs
if i hold out enough
Will
One day
Be mine
And burn bright

Making the link between
Brenton Tarrant and UKIP
is how the Tories will try
to create a bad image for
Nigel Farage and those who
voted for Brexit.

Just watch and see how
the split pin is dismantled
and the link exposed.

Civil War On the streets
of London is certain.

soup in the spring
I can taste again
there's a photo of me riding a horse
but I wouldn't be able to describe the feeling to you
always the horse
never the horse girl
he kissed my hand like a gentleman
and I fed him an apple
coming back home they ask why my knuckles are bleeding
I say I got too close and a kiss sometimes involves teeth

Then
We were always keen on space talk
We discussed what stars meant for us
I know you didn’t believe but
We wished on falling stars
We planned on where we would go together when we finally could

Today
I can’t remember the constellations
that I used to trace on your back
I had maps and shortcuts to all fissures and valleys
I really knew you inside and out

The black hole that the many conversations created
took everything that I had had in my capsule
One day someone will find it and dig it out
BUT REALLY
It could only be you again.