I’ve been saying, “tomorrow,” for the last three months, dreaming again in a bent and hollow sort of way, shoving myself into all of my crooked corners. I’ve purposely avoided it up to now, trying to dodge it, like an expert lightning runner —my sad attempts to slip unnoticed past the inevitable summer months.

It denies my wishes for a moderate temperature and ruthlessly tortures me with its slow crawl in my direction, wrapping its clammy hands around my throat to pin me to hot pavement; sparks within me and kindles unkempt fires, burns me at the shoulders like Memorial Day fireworks —feels so potent I can almost see it tucked behind the horizon. Waiting.

I want to taste a sky that slowly darkens, bowing its graceful head to welcome a storm that may never come, existing only to fool me into praying another day for rain.

I lay on my back, absorbing the pressures
Of the rocks beneath me, I breathe.
Eyelids resting on now blind eyes, I feel.
I stretch out as high as possible and hold it...
Allowing each fingertip to tingle, arms fall.
A rush of blood and my eyes snap open,
I see colours never known to man,
Unpaintable by all extremes.
Now, I sit cross-legged
Rocking as the wind sways.
The small clearing expands, opening up,
I see more now than two 1800's explorers
Ever did as they searched the world for forgiveness.
Looking up, it has grown dark
A deep blue, a deep grey.
It proceeds to rain, closing my eyes,
I open my mouth as if to speak...
The taste of wilderness rushes in.
Heavier, precipitation grows,
Heavier and birds begin to scream,
Landing at my sides, eyelids open...
I remain still. Screaming songs so intense,
The birds, they start to dance.
A pair with the tango,
Three with the jive,
I smile... I'm alive.
Beckoning me to join...
We danced all night.

Is it by chance that Da Vinci's "La Gioconda"
is named as such?
All propaganda, speculations and theories all based
on a smile.
Etymology of the name Gioconda is such:
"Friendly and communicative, Gioconda has plenty of charm and magnetism. A sociable extrovert, she is pleasant, cheerful and very likeable. She was born to express herself, interact with others and have a good time. In effect, she can sometimes appear rather disconcerting."
"Rather disconcerting", now that's an understatement of the enigmatic
Mona Lisa's smile!
A beguiling smile, what are you thinking whilst sat for the maestro?
Is it an affair of the heart?
Is it a smirk? A smirk of knowing.
Are you even real?
A woman or as some suggest, a beautiful boy, Da Vinci's muse/lover?
Does your beauty mask a hidden triumph, your magnetism over time?
You, have become immortal, looked upon and gazed at, where Gods have not.
Did you know as you sat amongst the smell of paint,
that your fate was sealed not with a kiss but a smile?

Don't judge my outer shell
Don't judge the marks or scars on my skin
Don't judge the look in my eyes as you spit the words of sin
Don't sear your judgements in my brain
Yeah ok, you think I'm insane
I hope you know that this inner pain does it
The pain you cause and from many others
So don't judge the tears that stream down my face
Sad angels cry the most
An angel as sad as I deserves to let these tears fall
So don't judge my outer shell
Don't judge it at all
Don't say I'm mental and insane
You don't know what has happened to me or what I've been through
So don't judge my outer shell
Till you've looked within me
Maybe then you'd see why I'm like this
Maybe then this will shatter your killing spree

If you hold a seashell
Against your ear,
You will hear a tic-toc
Within the knock of your own
Heart counting down by

Each beat being
Unfathomably fainter; you
Must
Write
Now.
Write for your life.

Silence is sin. Blank pages and
Clean walls around
The dwellings of your poetic
Powers; pure
Blasphemy.

Write, poet. Write for your life.
Counter every grain
Of sand passing, with
Words.
Write prose on the wind with
Your fingers to be carried into

The Archives of All. Write as if
Your death depends
On it. Express the beauty of
Our common insignificance,
And how we are still
Held above
Angels.

Write for your lives, flee
From slumber; awake.
There's lucidity here, unlike
Any seen through the haze of a
Dreamer's eyes.

You are the voice of the
Human Race, the last line of
Defence against
Robot lives
In a cold
Machine.

Write for our lives.
Write for your lives.

Shallow breathing,
Words unending.
Trying to see the world,
But you're all I see.
Eyes, wide with wonder,
Catching dreams, without surrender.
Miles to go, we've only begun,
Two hearts beating wild, to one song.

Moonlight dancing
And pecks on the cheek.
Your name on my heart,
Your hand in mine,
We'll walk this world, you and I.
Fight the odds, chase our dreams.
Starry-eyed, chocolate brown
Looking out at the rising sun.

I could fall to the ground and forget that it hurts
When I see them smile, I know the pain that is supressed.
Drowning beneath a shadow of endless regrets,
What they are, where they come from, a nation begets.

Hiding behind a veil of corruption,
Unknowingly had them intercede.
Rising smoke, from a burning soul,
Hear their cries, they hide, yet plead.

How can you pass them, not notice their tears and agony?
Is your life that beautiful, you can't stop and extend a hand?
Building cities, empires, and fools, you complain!
Why, the minute you let your feet touch the ground,
You'll see what the world looks like,
Behind that mask of glittering facade.

Please read to me your poetry

Your every syllable
a whisper to my ears

your every word
a soft caress against my cheek

your every sentence
a long warm embrace

your every paragraph
a love song to my heart

your every poem
a balm to my soul

Please read to me
your sultry poetry

making love to me
again and again....

The thing I hate most
is when I have to switch off the light
paving way for ghosts
to rule my night!

When moonbeam peeped through window
night revealed her in the most beauteous glory
I would not fall asleep in that half-lit glow
till ma told me the eeriest ghost story!

She would tell me about imps and ghouls
the ones that roam to find if a child is sleepless
of spirits no more bound by earthly rules
moving in the hollows in faceless face!

There were ghosts good and crooks
souls that died in unfulfilled lust
their shadows crept in the dark nooks
their sighs echoed with the wind's gust!

I could feel their breath catch their whiff
the lurking bones lying for me in wait
that would not spare me even in my sleep
till they turned me their netherworld's mate!

To this day I feel a deadly gloom
pause before I put out the light
what if finding me alone in a room
visit me the fears of the night!