Handsome shades of murk crackle the joints in your bony fingers while she drapes purple towels over a broken window no one has bothered to sort.  It's a quiet and moldy sort of night, with even a starry sky lying shamelessly over tranquil lakes under closed willows. There are no secrets though between her eyes and yours, who find joy in absently breaking the bleached porcelain cups your in laws bought, on this blood stained floor. With all this abstracted silence dying to burn your dog hearing thoughts, she finally manages a whisper.

'Dare not let the light in and wake you from this memory.
It might be putrid but it's the best you'll ever have'

   Leaning back, the chair you sit on sobs wordlessly about the strain of living and the piles of laundry no one has bothered to fold. The moon overlooks your surroundings, watching pine trees in the distance exhale their last breath and drop weights of hope omitted from the stars for this Earth. Perhaps ignorance is bliss or someone cut off her ears and yours because no one turned to notice while those same pasty fingers count back the pages ripped out of old journals, all meant for her. With all the trains missed and reminders dismissed,  you realize who's caught in a fog of sighs.

  She paints your portrait in distress because she'll never finish what once was. Termites are biting the wooden legs of this chair and rotting is the flesh on your arms. Reflecting back on your life is worth nothing more than a refrigerator note she scribbled on for last weeks groceries and now she sleeps in a place far more silent than in a coffin deep under roots where some proud oak trees once stood. Being found in the middle of a lost labyrinth with her hand no longer warm, you finally manage a sentence.

'Who cares about the dying trees, I'm running out of paper.
She might be dead but well alive in a writer's promise'

last night;
in an awfully profound night's sleep
i dreamt of dismantling barren roads
that hurriedly flowed down
like rapid moonlit rivers
streaming down yawning mountains

the pint-sized diamonds in the stream
reminded me of sparkling headlights
parallel to busy streets on late fridays
where youngsters in shiny cars
are seen racing for their lives
daringly pacing through bright city lights
looking for parties to crash and burn
for their own delight

the road i assembled from these broken pipes
led me into a bank of crystalline water
brilliant with intense enchantment
i drunk from the lucid spirals on the surface

illusions bewildered my owl eyes
as a spectrum of colors propagated outwards
expanding like a thousand burning suns
when i dipped curious fingers in
the surreal mixture of flourescent light

briefly for a moment
all life shined through with purpose
the serene sounds of the humming river
crashed towards me and enveloped me in kisses
they lifted my head from under the ground
and over the clouds i rose

i think it meant a second chance
was within my fragile reach
somehow i could finally
take fate into my own hands
to rebuild my walls with these feeble joints

my own path to guide me out
this state of repulsion
towards myself
it was a reset button
to start all over
one morning to wake
unbroken and aspiring to believe

maybe your presence made that possible
a four leafed clover
i had miraculously found by the roadside
during those lonely trips taken out of town

you were a starfish dying on the shore
i hoped was waiting for me hold
the one i picked and couldnt decide
whether the sky or my palms
were it's home
and so i kept something
i should have given back
'Oh magnificent Sea, please do forgive me'

but you gave me something
i never thought i had the right to feel
such promise your words resonate
evoking
    images,
memories,
          and emotions
i never dreamt could be mine

though shamelessly stolen from mother nature
regret has lost it's match
claimed and planted deep
you are a budding seed
growing it's own eden in my heart

this inelastic collision of you and i
must have sprung out for a greater cause
that you must have birthed from a shooting star
a conscious meteor of rupturing destiny
purposely aim towards me by the heavens
and i thank them for once

though much of my dream
has spilled out of context
and the seams have frayed out of order
giving up isnt an option anymore
because to know why
you stand here with me
is a buried treasure somewhere
along this map im still plotting the points on for

he was the sort of person


who chased
loose flyers down the road
hoping for a lost letter
some lover must have wrote


he was the sort of person


who could not
sleep with an IV drip
dug deep into his arm



he could not move
  
   or run away
          from nightmares
                   that
                were not his.

Took one step into his lonesome world.

The clouds there were peculiarly pixelated in a forgettable shade of #999999
Digitally coded water vapor condensing into dense bubbles of thought
They resembled puzzle pieces childishly misplaced
Naivety was finger-painted along the lining and edges
While other bits played a quiet game that seemed to find them wanting

I did wonder where he hid them
Or if it was someone else who ran away
Who stole the stars in his sky?
Who stole the light in his pocket?

Took another step into his lonesome world.

The wind there had a dance of it's own that seemed to trace a pattern
Oscillating at a rate of 15Hz was a low frequency partner-less sway
Similar to eyelids confused and batting their lashes
Or wiper blades clearing tears off cars during a storm
Occurring without much thought was the drizzle with each wave

I did wonder why he danced alone
Or was it someone else who simply walked off
Who turned his sky on?
Who turned his lights off?

Took a breath standing in the center of his lonesome world.

I looked up and to my surprise found the eye of his mind
Staring back at me from those ***** clouds
It was the reason to all being and the wind was it's doing
Rising high up from an endless undisturbed nap

It was;

Brighter than the Sun itself
  Bursting citrus with each blink
Bleeding pulp over my skin
  Burning like acid on my own wounds
Delightful heat dripping off my tongue
   Psychedelic spirals twisting my limbs

    And
       i danced and spun
    And
       i lost and won

Please find me somewhere in those broken memories of yours

17/11/13

Folks speak of the lost boys once a midnight orchid blooms.
Of where they play and hide by a moonlit bay and sandy coast.
Without a care or a house, finding shelter under wise trees holding hands as a shack.
They ease the strong winds of November with rusted strings,
plucking notes with muddy fingers, they hum the usual song pulling splinters off their minds.

And there is rain that drowns the dancing melancholy in their little hearts,
as rippling ocean waves imitate their breaking bones and pulse.
As the thunder beats of laughter and of sorrow,
wooden guitars tap out the tearing droplets that spill from their sleepy thoughts.

Another night pours it's frank sentiments on us. The heavy dew weather blows the earth of it's ample troubles. It clears the grass of burdened footsteps that roam this place aimlessly. With all eyes to the ground, they miss to meet opportunities (happiness) that could be sitting right under their misshaped noses. They can't seem to smell flowers blooming or hear the hearts that need them, so are they even looking for something (as they so claim) or simply looking away?

Among them her eyes darken and hope to be found soon.

  Walk with me a moment, though the air is cold i find your penny plain company warmer than freshly baked bread cooling off by a white window or maybe something sweeter like (you) cinnamon pie. Similar to them, who would rather lie to themselves than face the truth, our tongues split oceans with exhausted explanations for the thoughts we keep lonely and the needs we discard as unimportant. We're pretending to not have feelings or see the seasons that change with each pulsing beat, so has this game even started or will it part with done (love) at first sight?

Between us the lightning strikes and looks to capture our trembling smiles.

'Les amoureux de la pluie'

  That's the myth we share sitting across a sea of stars (table) that bound a distance rich in silence and secrets only whispered into budding tulips.
  Ambiguous forms that refer to the weeping clouds to heal scarring burn wounds; we ask for you to madden our burning coal spirits with waves that seem to effervesce as they sweep by.
In those bubbles washing away the endless thoughts we conjure up over elements and matters observed.

You like the smell
of wet pavement
  after it pours
  And
I fail
   to stop thinking
about the little things
you act upon.

The mischievous innocence that frames the corners of your smile force me to lose my structure as a lover. My hands quiver and are weaker than the red and blue fishes swimming across your blouse.
Empty unsealed cartons remind me of your wholesome frown (that i honestly adore) and opalescent evenings overseeing weary city light lit buildings.
I'm kissing the morning Sun through your burning lips, my dear. With sideburns that curl the way lashes should, they are pecking at my ears as we wrinkle these covers and fall asleep again.

Have days ever taunted you to be candid,
                                 impulsive, and
                                    driven by lust?

Have words ever burned the tip of your thoughts, or
                                   the coffee you sip with the tip of your tongue?
          
Have eyes ever stole a glimpse of your heart, or
                                   the leaves off trees when the wind gets too hard?

                                                                                                                                              
You see
This night has just been born, It's maybe about an hour old.
And I know I'm too lonely to handle the things you say,
And you know being too honest leaks translucence
It goes astray.
You see
I have been told before the idea itself is a mimic.
Along lines of a half truth hiding in the droplets,
They're hanging off the metal bar grills
of some balcony
   on the 8th floor
(somewhere)

Coffee rings,
from cups shared over dreams we altered carelessly.
With each roasted sip of warmth consumed
they stained these pearl satin sheets once more.

My innocence tainted by your words,
                                   lies,
                                 and promises
                      (of a faraway place you said you would take me)


I'm left here floating with soft clay drying on my frantic clammy palms,
unfinished and without shape are the stars you left me hanging onto.

I'm left here following a trail of steps on this grainy fine path,
overgrown with weeping weeds are the eyes that watch me follow dust.
                                                                    

(lost and gone with the laughing wind)

If I swore to tell you
          (wild eyed and breathless)
of what lies
inside my pandora's box
    the blue velvet decaying
    under my flesh
          the whispers in my head
          like supple breeze
          through follow oaks
             (eerily adrift)

would you still dare hold me
at the dusty ledge
of this 85-storey high building
(my crumbling paper body)
as the concrete cracks
submissively
and the walls fall apart
instinctively

because
i would give up
the last of my flicker
to light
your final cigarette
and make
your lonely bed warm

If i held your echoing heart
                   in my hands   (with frantic devotion)
as it throbs rhythmically
in these fire brick palms
   propagating at a frequency
   of long found anxiety
a dim soul
trapped
in an antique olive wood clock
(tick tock tick)

would you dare still trust me
to dance
with those charred demons
(your most profound secrets)
the ones sworn to be
memories of disgust
the bad taste
at the back end
of your tongue
buried deeper in the Earth
for Hell to bare and hoard

because
i trust you
to embrace
the flaws we share
and
tears we didnt

(but most of all)

the discovery of our story
rapidly unfolding in this unashamed
polluted atmosphere

Your parted lips
   do not taste
Of sugar
   nor of salt

Neither
these
     thorned roses
  nor
     stormy seas
My ****** angel,
Could ever compare
   To thee

Your parted lips
    do not taste
Of sunshine
    nor of glare


But of the blazing
almighty Sun itself
(the divine source of light at a noon's twelve)

Blossoming blisters
   on my tongue
Erupting volcanoes
  are the pores
           on my skin
               at your
                touch

You do not taste
  of regret
But of promise
  from the past

A mystery that sipped in
     through murky wine
you are dark
  disastrous delight

at first  
     &
       at last

Unbelievably
     (mine)

as we momentarily depart
  on this night
invaluable seconds
turn into slow sailing snails
and the bottomless void you have filled
comes forcefully undone

a coral kissed satin ribbon unwinding
to pull you back into my arms

as we momentarily depart
  on this night
unforgivable distance
splits our bodies apart
  like microscopic amoebas
holding on to a never ending current of flight

we might be identical beings
running in opposing directions
              (at this point in our lives)
   but our souls know better
    that soon will come a time

where;
     our flesh and bones will reunite
where;
     our lonely days will then be yesterday's moonlight

undo the rusty bolts
underlining
  my frizzy hairline
the crummy ones that hold
  volatile turmoil
    within my scalp
the erratic lunacy
  playing
   with my aging brain
using the untangled strings
  to jump rope
   and play
    sorrowful tunes
      for the weeping
        to harmonize

i want you
  to stick your hands
   in my heavy head
as you would
  in a flower ***
    freshly filled with soil
dig into the moist compound
  with your pliable fingers
   amend
     the corruptive leakage
       that toils
         within my own deceit

i want you
  to avidly turn
    the soft claying matter
       how ever you please
as you would
  turn into roads
     that lead you
        running
           straight to me

i want you
  to breathe
     igniting hope
born from the fumes
   of cigarettes
    you smoked insensibly
into the seeds
  you wish to discard
     in this potted cavity

i want you
  to pour oceans
    of poetic sentiments
tainted with gentle kindness
   from those isolated tears
     held back in the sockets
        of your eyes
to water
   my wilting corpse
     so it may flourish
        from your light reflecting gift
          of life (you resurrect me)

i want you
  to trust
     in your
       captivating presence
          to make me
              unintentionally smile
from your caress
  will selflessly sprout
     inflorescent buds
       of rich purplish-blue flowers
          with conspicuous green calyxes

  and even though their coloring
        is rather insignificant
  and they can be easily overlooked

i want you
  to know
   that only you
     hold the key
       to this secret pasture

that
  without you
   there would not be
     such garden
         for us to hide

1.

i like to think of us
                    as discovered

found
     by chance
in a boundless sea
separate jars
floating towards each other
it was
  desolation
from which we wished to flee

and
when salty sailors unearthed us
tangled worms
    on a sandy beach
we curled
   our limbs together
under
    the sun and breeze

castaways
lost miles in
tides of diving love
  that surely drew us here
to an island
at the ends of the world
of silver sand
and sweet coconut trees

2.

i like to think of us
                    as inseparable

thicker
  than blood
the sweet dripping honey
in my veins
           you are
what nurtures
           my nature
an avalanche
of tenderness
that without
i would collapse

you are the sun
rising early on dreamy mornings
to my seeded growing heart
you are the moon
to the longing wolf in my tummy
  howling softly in the dark
you are the words
streaming falls of encouragement
that leave my chapped lips dry for more
you are the ink
painting passages of hope
that leave my fingertips typing of your allure

3.

i like to think of us
                     as infinite

cosmic
  in proportion
measureless by any means
  individual supernovas
greeting each other
        igniting simultaneously
it was
    compression
from which we were freed

and
when curious scientists
ventured
    into oblivion
we were brighter
     than any shining star
                in the sky
    glow worms
illuminating
     the walls
  of sunken caves
hidden somewhere
     peaceful and ruined
like Atlantis
or
(maybe all these metaphors
           are just stories to
             secretly tell you
           this is how i lose lose myself in your stare
           it is what i see
          tenderly sprouting
                         in your eyes)

she was the sort of person


who ran
into glass walls
searching of a lover
who slept miles away


she was the sort of person

who could not
flip the pillow
over to the cooler side

she could not hug it

       and tell herself
                 that
           everything
                       was fine.

this is me
     asking
for whoever out t(here)
to find me
     hiding
in these
     words
social networks
and
stolen efforts