I want to write to immortalize my name,
but my heart is poured out on the ground like wax,
So like Jesus and Solomon and some others,
If I'm lucky,
maybe I could immortalize my pain.

It has all been redone, rehashed, rewritten, and reread, (this included)
and like billions of others,
my world revolves around me,
my instinct and my survival,
wedged in my head.

We are all philosophers, scientists and sheep,
from princes to murderers,
from mothers to sailors,
the remembered and forgotten,
the drunks and the tailors-
We're sincerely believing the delusions we keep.

I think some found truth,
and others found lies,
and some found excuses
for the passions of youth.

But I have favourite things that keep me alive,
the songs and the family and friends that help me pass time,
conquering problems and getting things right,
the fragile ecstasy,
the rare intimacy,
touch.

I constantly feel the drain of time running out,
my back is in knots,
I'm tired and in doubt.

I see people I love aging and fading,
and I know we all share it,
our lives are decaying.

My heart has grown hard from the sorrow I've seen,
so many bleeding,
I'm also bleeding.

It's too hard too cry tears for all the begging children I see
they never run out,
we're always needing.

I want to live hope and love in this world,
despite my terminal condition,
my weakness and waywardness,
my incessant betrayal,
there must be some good to flow from this cracked jar.

And I want to walk with you,
none of us are alone here,
this pain belongs to us all.

I will fail from time to time,
in my self-centerdness forget you are mine.

But there will be times when we will touch on eternity.
We will calm the blame with soft whispers of each others names.
We will laugh and clown until our tears have run out.
We will know we belong, pretend that were strong.

In this sense I do live for you, and you for me,
imagine without that what a hell this would be.

And when I die, who knows what will be next?
But I will leave behind some beautiful things.

And if you go before me,
I'll carry you home,
then bury your bones,
then bury your memories inside me
and let them fade with me.

I met with her again last night on the upper deck.

English tea shop surrounded by culture and interesting antiques.

She visits me often in places like these
to remind me to care for my child
and to live beautifully.

My life is infected by her colours,
her imagination,
her intricacy.

St Paddy is a devil
with a cruel taste for beer,
last night he beat me on my head
until my vision disappeared.

My eyes are feeling blurry
and my head is a balloon,
I dont know if I'll make it
until this afternoon.

My mouth tastes like a harbour *****
and my breath smells like a sewer
my brain cells are on strike
and my throat is like a skewer.

its easier to be alone in the dark.
When a love song you love is playing on the radio,
it is better not to know.

It is better she never smiled
than to go on the roller coaster of intensity.
The problem is that it is only seen in retrospect,
when the heart you wear on your sleeve has bled out all your joy.

Until that time,
you hunt for your own heartache,
and when you think you have healed,
it starts again.

Prophets of doom,
dishing out sorrow and gloom,
glorying in their knowledge,
tying weights to burdened souls,
receivers of blackened light and soiled truth,
if they only knew,
there are many others just as they,
spewing lies in God's name,
leading sheep
to a fiery hell.

a collection of pixels
making lines
making letters
making words
making beauty-

trying to make sense-
trying to express,
to bridge the divide-

and somewhere
in the black and white
we meet-

but as in a haze,
almost
and incomplete.

This is the human connection.

I'm so happy that you just want to be friends
that I can die.
I'm so excited I'm losing you,
now I have room to fly
into these lonely arms
of this lonely heart
of this lonely lonely dreamer,
away from love
loving lonely pretty you.

The stars were made for longing hearts
so strong and on their own.
They're close enough to see them shine-
so far that they wont find the earth
that dances on its lonely path
around the blistering sun-
just far enough that they could not imagine being one
furnace of a love destroying all their dreams hold dear
flying through the universe alone.

Now that you're gone
I'm free again
to build my walls of steel,
and hide away
my passion lights
and all the hope i feel
for all this beauty and believing that
I'll ever find a cure
to the darkness that is burning in my soul.

My mind cruel
the words spew-
blunt daggers-
ripping at the one I love.

My guard weak,
control down,
brash-
unforgiving.

But she sees another man,
Soft and kind,
gentle-
blind.

I see the horror that hides.

Silent night, traffic lights.
All is calm in the rain.
The Cape wind glides over black river roads.
The watered trees whisper under clouds that bellow.
While it sleeps in heavenly pieces,
while it sleeps in heavenly peace.

This withered night,
the warmth takes flight.
The chill creeps into the sleeping thing.
Glazed eyes fading while lonely lights grow,
the roar of the engine on the tarmac below,
while it sleeps in heavenly pieces,
while it sleeps in heavenly peace.

Mystery
the plug of our insatiable appetite
calls on soft winds
"destiny maybe?"

Dont solve her completely
or she'll die and you'll miss her,
just taste her,
enjoy her
let her be
free

Made for the monster
Played by the pauper
Aged by the sage
Loved by the lunatic
-it's neck broken by the *******.

Played before kings,
Sang shivers and dreams,
Was a woman
a lover
a poet
a thing...

Now waits
mounted
on a poor man's wall,
For a master
to recall:
the hidden,
the mystery,
the music-
its all in all.

Your words
lose their structure
of hard black on white deadness
and fly off the page
like arrows
piercing
with truth and intention
my target heart.

Its beautiful poison
quickly runs
through my veins
infecting me,
drugging my mind
with thoughts
not my own.

The queen escaped the city walls
to let the bear come in to play
she was sitting by a river called Deliver just yesterday,
waiting for somebody to come wash all her blues away.

But then his sky came crashing down,
the lies he built just couldn't stay.
He was sitting by a river called Deliver just yesterday,
waiting for somebody to come wash all his blues away.

The queen said I am just a girl
trying to figure out this world.
Dont go sitting by a river called Deliver- it wont make me stay.
You dont even know me, dont throw it all away.

Its dark- but wait until the break of day,
In time we will see the way.
theres a river called Deliver- it will show the way.
When you hear the music, it is when we'll stay.

The bear escaped the city walls,
to let the queen come in to play.

The broken mold lies screaming with hopelessness,
its purpose lost-
the clay has discarded the form the artist wanted to emulate.

The mistake,
the fault,
the glitch,
warped from the copy to become an original-
not as desired or required,
but having a will of its own.

To realise the dream,
is to satisfy the itch.

To wake from the dredge
is the Life on the edge.

The fault of finding freedom from frigidity.

Spectacular views are seen when you wake from the dream
and the colours scream like coffee and cream

Laugh at the imagery,
the cardboard cutout words strung together like sweet christmas decorations.
Fall in the pool
like a funny bunny cartoon.

Be the sad clown for one more noisy day-
and while you're at it:
brush a giraffes teeth.

Smile at the dreary monotony
and greet the ever grey sky
like a buzzy nook not.

The strangers we meet
The strangers we eat
The strangers we are
are stranger by far.

Aged,
riddled with sores,
confined to a wheel chair,
His head shaking uncontrollably
and drooling onto his napking,
he smiles.

Love lurks like a wounded animal,
starved for affection,
scarred by rejection,
stalking weak minds,
seeing who next will be devoured,
it longs to lift it's prey on the wings of hope,
and drop them down
to it's inevitable conclusion,
despair.

I am bored with love,
and it's passionless limbs that drape over my bed
and it's lethargic state of impotence
while it still idiotically wears that same red heart.

There we were alone in togetherness,
trying to build dreams with two by fours and glue,
but even a home wouldn't bind us
when our hearts lived so alone...

Poetic vows cliched into nothingness,
like all words eventually do,
and we allowed our bodies to become
another pair of hollow shadows
that made love to walls
instead of to each other.

And still we wondered why
the roses were dying.

Unbeautifully she undresses,
unraveling my understanding.
Unceremoniously she grabs me,
undoing me to madness.

Unbuttoning my pants
and tearing at my sleeves,
inelegant her moans and
undainty are her screams.

Unbelievable the ***
underlying all the sweat,
undenying is the passion
on the bed sheets that we wet.

Unconventional,
uncontrollable,
unforgettable the night.
unacceptable,
uncontainable,
the thought of mornings light.

There is a well of tears
in the heart of hell,
tempered by the barren years,
filled up with our loss and fears
for moments that we hold so dear.

Strong and courageous,
Mind set,
Words and intention impeccable.

Money flows
from talent and desires,
time,
managed in exact
and perfectly planned compartments.

Influencing friends and family,
perfect relationships,
ruling as a king.

I'm a well oiled machine,
in my seldom recurring dream.

Im alive!

I dont care anymore why!

Brevity or eternity-
I will breathe my air
and love my sun.

Today i am here,
so today i will take all i can.

I will **** in the world and contain it in my veins like a million songs.

I will touch,
I will feel,
I will break,
I will heal,
I will crack,
crumble,
then get up when i stumble.

I welcome it all,
the pain and the ecstasy,
my lifelong companions.

My sorrow i will hold for those absorbed with the greyness of monotony and in my arrogance know how lucky i am.

I will burn with anger,
laugh with joy,
cry with sorrow.

I will cast off my fetters stealing my time and my life.

My intentions will rule me.
I will become the hidden signature written on my soul.

I am.

She traded her dreams for a liar,
too much fighting for love left her tired.

Too many men,
Too many monsters,
Too many battles,
Too many losses,
Too many wounded,
Too many corpses,
Too many promises
nailed to crosses.

I tried to inject her with desire,
I tried to resurrect her dying fire,
but all she could do
was retire.

The flowers fall like sweeties
in the packet of my mind.
The answer flows completely
from the hand that stops the time.

The questions that were seeking
could potentially leave us blind
to the poetry that's creeping
to the rhythm of the times.
  
The finders fees of finding gold
are deeply grained in laws.
The crawling finger grasping
for the love of ***** ******.

The sailor tongues are swaggering
with anticipating  throws,
of innocent and eloquent
shows of pretty hoes.

One innocent,
One tormented.
One bitter,
One contented.

One pure,
One ***** and demented.
One heart loving,
One mind dented.

Both are powerful,
Both relentless.
Both are wise,
in worlds apart.

Both have killed
in wars contended.
Both crave music,
souls and art.

One face,
One body,
One war,
One you.

I can feel her breathe again.

Glimpses of colour glimmer through the shadows of the past,
I see my poetry returning in an orange dress.

We held hands and drank wine in each others souls.

Too wired to love,
strange and cold,
she spins her words with threats so cold,
a web of lies that holds him near,
his light is fading into fear.

The crack on the cracked mirror stains her face,
a crooked smile spews disgrace.
She keeps his face in her flower box,
with all the other shattered clocks.

They're all just ghosts that pass on by while,
she breathes to pass the time.

She  swallow the sun, before the days begun,
keeping him in the dark, with her silly little lies.
He prays she finds love and he hopes that it's he.
He's scored  long enough,  he knows it's only in his head.

He watches from afar, while she's beside  him in  bed,
Pretty as a poem he read.
There, but uninvolved, someone is waiting round the bend-
This dream is just a page he read.

He's been here before, an old hand at goodbye,
years are moving on to a safe and cozy night:
where slide shows flicker on walls of unknown photo scrawls
and moments covered in dust,  
dead forgotten trust.

If only she belonged to a wasted life with him:
grounded, broken and free;
with few Hollywood lights hanging on her tree,
a sense of sanity.

She is held like a doll that can never love back,
plastic blue eyes keep him entrapped.
Compromising compassion compels him to her door-
He swears he's been here before...

Too weird to love,
too strange to hold,
she spins her heart with threads of gold,
to build a web to hold him near,
but he is light years away from here.

Her cracked mirror cracks her face,
a brave smile to cover disgrace.
She puts his mask in her flower box,
with all the other broken clocks.

They're all just ghosts that pass on by while,
she breathes to pass the time.

I am just another traveller
that is knocking on your door
staying at your cheap motel
like so many men before.
I’ve been here so many times
it’s easier to ignore-
that innocence has lost its life
and it’s bleeding on the floor.

You are just another pretty face
that led me to her room.
I recognise the same perfume
with a slightly different guise.
When I’m drugged inside your secret place,
it seems that hope’s alive,
but the simplicity of finding you
is only in my mind.

That manipulative shot glass-
blew my brains with black n blue ***** bullets
and with blinded passion and mixed emotions,
I glided gently off my high bar stool,
and found myself nestled neatly
on my ****.

I swam in her eyes-
It didn't make sense.

I went to her street,
I went to her house,
I tried to get in.

But her walls
are higher than the Ivory Tower.
and her doors
are four foot steel.

(chorus->)
Open the vault.
Break down the walls!
Let me in.
Open the vault.
Break down the walls!
Let' begin-
a beautiful
complicated
love affair.

I know she's there
-I can hear her breathe...
I know she's scared
I can
feel her bleed!

(chorus)

I'm your white trash baby,
I'm your yellow-belly ****.
I'm your world flushed down the toilet,
oh yeah baby I'm the one.
I'm just useless information
in this endless sea of words.
Just take my hand I'll make you
***
undone.

I got no direction and I aint got brains.
I'm your road to nowhere.
I'm your road to pain.
So come kiss me honey
let me blow your little mind.

I'll teach you what it's like to fall

from grace.

When push comes to shove
were shoved off a cliff
onto rocks of deceit
and foundations that shift.

The face in the mirror
changes all day-
imprisoned by mortality,
bound by decay.

The smiles we laugh with
are losing their teeth.
The love that we find
is destined for grief.

There are moments of clarity,
moments of hope,
that slip through our fingers
despite how we *****.

Large red pillows on a warm blanket in front of the fire.
Candles all around
-Michael Buble to set mood.

And you,
my 1950s movie star smiling coyly,
expectation hidden behind you brown satin kimino.

Ayr ye scurvy turnpike,
turn yer eyes from me!
The beauty of yer blizzard blue
tears me flannel heart.

Ye bake me mind into applesauce
that hotly drools on down,
me stomache is dissolvin-
all me courage ye have drowned.

Ayre ye wretched rogue of lies,
no one could be so fair.
Must be an imagination demon
with soft an tender hair.

When yer tongue tangs sharply on me lips
me life is drained and dying.
shut that song of love ye sing
that sets me soul a flyin.

Ayre ye **** banshee
Don't never let me go,
Grip me with yer slender claws
so closely we can gro.

This world can't stop yer fire
were gonna burn it down,
with nights of satin passion
were gonna paint the town.

Ayre me ***** of wonders,
ye know I keep ye dear.
I thank ye for yer nightmares
that ye give me every year.

The world is your mirror.

Mountains of mystery grow and crumble.
Mountaineers conquer the peaks and some stumble.
Poets dream,
And the fearful hide.
Hero cries echo in the crags that crack the skies.
Burning volcanoes exploding with sulphur,
Tall shadows forever hiding within her.

Sweeping tsunamis destroying with rage,
Peace is the ocean that brings this age.
Sailor that loved her she buried below,
Lovers that saw her were lost in her glow.

The Terra Firma,
We walk and are buried.
Like a mother
She fed and has carried.

The blood of the martyrs and murderers she caught,
The food for the children and the dying she wrought.
Sometimes barren and bare,
Or green without care,
Her arid, her acid, her ice and her air.

So much mystery,
So much madness,
All her ecstasy hides her sadness.
So much history forged with newness.
So much truth, so many truths lost in transit.

Our touch,
Our taste,
Our mind,
Our breath-

So much to mention and much left out.
So much discovered and been found out.
Words can never amount or count,
The dim reflection,
The horror,
The magnificence.

The other side,
You.