LOVE; destroyer of all.
once your bound,
you're finished.

It will make you
forget your plans
abandon your dreams

two personalities
and one reaction
transformed indefinitely.

LOVE it all up
while your heart incinerates through your soul,
nothing else matters

love till you die.

I salute my sublimation.
tackle my monsters
with pen and paper,
Die in my art, you beasts.

all my characters are myself.
different shades
textures of my complexity
a palette of my entity

Im the protaganist
the underdog
idealistic dreamer
with a happy ending

I'm the antagonist
the enemy
cynical pessimist
with doom impending.

I scrape down on paper
these pages of me.

Sublimating aching
intermission from tragedy.

an empty room
I fill it
With my thoughts.
I get to thinking
About everything.

I stand among many
Receiving awards
Reciting speeches
I must win one every day
And the speeches change,
Like the wind.

There's never
any faces,
Not even
my own
Ain't that strange?

Just the
Splintered visions
Breaking through
With spears
Of emotion.

I guess that
The image
Isn't even important:
It's the feeling,
The sensations,
The prayers,
The mantras,
And endless dreams.

It's an idealistic bubble.
Which I could  
Live in forever,
But I'd never get anything done.

I get to looking
At my watch.
Only thirty minutes
has passed,
How can that
be possible?

I've already travelled
to the serene corners
of my desires.
I've dipped my
toes in lustful wants.
I've soared to
pinnacles of success,
In thirty minutes.

Then the perpetual
Smog of stagnant
English gloom
Returns to me
In my Utopic chamber,
Bursting my bubble.

I hone back
to the moment,
and then I
put my pen
Down to paper.

The skin
Folds
The body
Sags
The soul
Remains.

She tasted
Like candy.
But she
Looked like
Plastic.

Fix me
Doctor.
She said
Those words,
As she come
Undone.

She carved
A mask
Out of money,
Out of  misery.

She kicked
And screamed,
At youths door.
But it was gone.

Her face was still,
But her heart was broke.
She looked like plastic.

I don't want to die,
I wish my words immortal,
Through this I live on.

No one wants to die,
I'll breathe my life in pages.
Read me eternal.

Allow the spontaneity of the idea to carry your hands, your fingers, upon keyboard, across canvas, dashing on paper.

Don't fear it's arrival, but leap when it does, strike whilst it gets you and keep it within the heart of the soul.

Let it take you down wondrous  ventures of originality and great voyagers of emancipated art.

Oh, it falls from the sky and explodes in the mind. It's intangible and nobody has ever seen it, but by god have they felt it.

Now never let it linger, never  let the flame fall to embers. go whilst the glorious fire burns inside you and amaze yourself at your spectacular projections, as they leap out before you.

None know when it comes, but lord behold when it does. It will take you the pits of your anguish and illuminate the rainbows of your joy; unfolding  before you see the magic of the mind, sparkling in the beauty of your work.

I pray for rain
So that I can place my head on yours
And together we can meditate upon the ambience of the soothing trickle against my window.

I beg for storms
So that we don't need an excuse to lie in bed for endless hours and stop time and the world, then lose our minds in each other.

Oh I hope it blizzards
Then we can snuggle under my blankets and get entangled amongst each other like glorious vines on a house.

I plead for thunder
Because then I could lay with you in the absolute darkness, and see the beautiful shards of light spark, and hear the thunderous roar as we lay excited clinging  on to the very bones of each other.

I dream of all this and more,
But for right now I just can't wait to see your face again.

I've got a heart
Full of bad decisions.

I've got feelings
With poor intuitions

I've got pain
That could strike fear
In thunder in rain.

I've got a boat
All aboard my ship of sorrow,
I don't care if I sink tomorrow.  
I don't know where I'm sailing
Looks on course for a river of  failing.

Tears of solitude, sinking my boat.
Swallowed pride, lump in throat.

Scarlet moon, illuminate my soul.
Starlight paths, make me  whole.

oh my angels I see you  clip your wings and die.
Everything  they taught you  in school was naught but a lie.

Cry, cry, cry

I am in love,
With your
Darkness.

You seduced me,
With your mystery.

Everywhere I look I see your face.  
Grandiose,
yet humble.
Old as time.
Luminous freckles,
Stretch proud,
On the infinity
Of your body.

You inspire me,
And humble me.
I am enchanted
By your
Lullaby  
Of silence.

I know  there's some that fear you,
Stricken by the omnipresence.
I feel sympathetic,
For the ages
Of misconceptions.
Whispered in your name.

I am staggered
To my atoms.  
By your honesty.
Your projection,
Naked and dark,
Bare and bountiful,
Beautiful.

And I know one day Ill join you,
Up in your excellence.

Sometimes I think,
That my insomnia,
Is because
I'm so
Excited to
Be Alive.

I think
If I drift off,
For just
One second:
The world
Will stop turning,
Trees will stop breathing,
Tides won't turn,
Peace could happen,
And worst of all you might stop loving me.

Selfies,
I can smell the desperation,
from here.
odors  of worry;
rippling anxities of uncertainity.
two dimensional,
instantaneous impressions,
pixelated presentations,
and
Teenage frustrations.

up tilted camera.
held against the light,
Illuminating eyes ,
and eradicating spots.
that looks like a good one.
Vicarious representation;
of how good
one could look,
fallible and hopeful.

big bosomed dame
showcasing blessed cleavage,
pulsating the adolescent
bulges.
delivered to
metal passenger,
thereafter shown
among peers.
networked to unknown.
Friends who'd never
met eye,
or
touched skin,
or
even spoke.  

self conscious
cropping of images.
fat and fearful.
wasted hours,
dying for love.
False dream of
captivating the messes with her selfie.

The very ugliness
of impressions.
Oh, how shallow we've became.
The denial
of the impact of aesthetics.
laughable,
torrents of judgement
Skinny,
fat,
ugly,
behold their desperate eyes behind the selfie.

For who can say life is not but a dream.
When you sleep does your mind often know that you're not awake?
Something that your brain can't distinguish between,
is it reality or dreamlike serene?

For who can say that death is not but a dream.
Free'd from mortal coil, the body may wither but the mind may transcend separated from the body. Time is only conceptualized and regimented. Time is of course intangible. There has only ever been one time, the now everything is happening on one scale, at one time, always.

Empty, like all living beings. composed of nothing.
All that lie behind those thin human shells, and interact as if aesthetics are taken for granted. However, all is perceived and compiled of atoms and molecules, particles. Nothing lies truly there except for perception, look aside of the boundaries and reevaluate the conception.

Living, stagnant cogs of the world with fear of rejection.
Are you a dreamer? there isn't too many of us around anymore.
Life, is a waking dream and you walk down its path, but must challenge it and not give in, therefore life is a walking exam.
Aristotle spoke of knowing something because he knows he knew nothing. I know nothing, we all know nothing, knowledge is found therein.

Faking your way through everything, who's going to call who's bluff. Invisible boundaries, ones greatest enemy must surely be themselves,
for instance all those living their lives painting imaginary walls to lock their dreams in. Told something that isn't just on a daily basis by media no you shouldn't  and no you can't. Hypnosis of the masses, bow down to the monopoly and put priority to the meaningless monetary.

Living lives chained to sheets of paper, always chasing, never ever asking why? do you need that, but will you die? Confused and lost sight of the real. pursuit of Happiness, Knowledge, Creativity, Love, Possibilities of above.

Break out the invisible shackles, leap out from under the internal prison and run, never stop till you reach the top of the mountain and scream. We are free and the time is now, there has never been a greater time to be alive. The world is our oyster lets soar and leap to the pinnacle of our greatness.

We can all achieve our potential, your life on a canvas, paint your masterpiece.

You bloom alive my little violet moon.
To turn my tide, to crash upon my dock.
Such bliss Ignite as she bestow monsoon.
Bodacious ***** upheld to unlock.

Her purity offers boundless flight, infinity.
An emeralds gleam among caramel spheres.
For days to spend up dreaming high, divinity.
But with the want to dive and sink in fears.

Although all stars will someday wither and die.
The trees flourish leaves before falling.
and water flows softly until it does dry.
All that are sentient do have times calling.

Everything in the moment, never sealed or bound.
Spinning with the earth on it's axis, living lost and found.

Flesh scaling mossy rock,
trepidatious toes clamber on.
Seraphic sunlight beating down on naked back.
Approaching the edge of all fears.

Standing on the pinnacle.
Surrounded by the best friends in  the world.
all there is to do is let go forever.
brace the fall, elongate with majesty.

Rhythmic heart, beating on all cylinders.
Di Dum: Fear
Di Dum: Anxiety
Di Dum: Stress


End of celestial descent.
Arrival in ecstasy.
Piercing icy blue water,
rinsing away all woes.

Circles of smiles,
and unprecedented unity.
In nothingness,
therein lies the foundation of all things.


Euphonious drum of waterfall.
harmonious chimes of birdsong.
Velvet blanket of heart warmth.
Soul soothing of clear water.

Utopian infinities crystallizing.
Dream't like folklore and now realized.  
Naked as born with no things and everything.
Tight clothed and old with many things and nothing.

Everybody wants to be,
loved somewhere, somehow internally.

Everyone's trying with heart ,
To be so the same, or be so apart.

looking for love, in all the wrong places.
gliding through applications;
rejecting, accepting, based just on their faces.

Denying love ,
Defying love,
and simply not trying love.

but its tough to be loved in the this day and age;
because we judge people on how they look on a page.

Alas..

Everybody wants to be,
loved somewhere, somehow internally.

21 years of age, haven't rose with the sun for more than a while now, stretch those aching bones and rise with the fresh warm breath of the morning air.

Twenty-second of June  two thousand and fourteen. Cultures dead, the whole world has become an immersion of postmodern irony and sensuality evaporates like tender droplets of the heavenly sky's tears, what's new?

Tender black coffee morning, velvet aromas of something that could only feel like home.  Getting up and getting ready to tap keyboards and snap fingers, always on the periphery of that feeling of eureka moment madness, all creative and hopeful, hungry and *****.

Friends and foes accepting fates, watching the dreamy eyes glimmer and dissipate before me, killing me with sadness. It's a lonely world and the machines comforting kiss of conformity is all too tempting, to some at least.

The hours of the day, slip by. Procrastination greeting me, I don't feel like writing today. Slide into comfort and let it beat you around the back the head with its big pillow hands of complacency. You know you're not the only one and hey you're not doing as bad as that one guy you know.

evening, I have something in my pocket that has my whole life inside. I have digital extensions of my being and I check them like a notification ******, searching through the complaints and opinions of all who talk so much and say nothing at all.

twenty two minutes past 10 in England, the night puts on his cape and his heart falls out, I look at you and feel everything. how many of you lonely dreamers all around the world are looking with me, living in your beautiful minds with all your beautiful dreams, all of us are alive together and the stars wink at us and the trees breathe with us and we're all electric with life, universal current oh boy won't you flow through me tonight.

Just as i was almost blue,
I begin to fall in you...

I love you.
I'ts been about 3 years since i said this,
at least unabashed.
Doesn't mean i love you any less than I ever have,
Fact i love you more than i ever have.

Among the leathery ripples of complexion,
upon old face.
Lie two young, proud, loyal eyes.
Pained eyes.

A life of breaking your back, hungry and hysterical working up sweats in the rainy morning hours of another somber English day just to bring home the bread to your family.

Leather worn hands, complete with callus.
Grey seasoned hair
Anger like a temperamental furnace.
and laughter that could fill the largest room.
Incandescent kindness;
With a heart the size of a boulder.

Hours spent in the same room with nothing to talk about, a simple nod of acknowledgement, comforting smile across the room.

Nothing to say and no need to say it.

Days of my youth spent in awe of your presence, excitable days, exhilarating times spent on adventures, and the phantasmagorical fairy tales you'd tell me as we ran through the forests.

The giants have clearly just let as we can see their footprint. stricken with fear, staying close to you father and son we conquered the lands. two great hero's, we roamed the local forest and in that moment for me it was indeed a kingdom.

And now i'm older and on my own voyage, still i remain in awe of your presence.

Venerable father,
I love you,
it's been three years since We've said this,
at least unabashed.

When you Killed me,
I fell through the earth,
I sunk to the deepest oceans,
and perched upon the rainiest clouds.

I sat above or down below.
Drunk upon my own sorrow.

Before you killed me,
we sailed through the stars,
and when we entwined,
we erupt synchronous supernovas;
as you and i know of course...

we were the only people in the world, galaxy, universe in that very moment.

But then you killed me, and i really don't mind.
Now i'm swimming through stars alone.
Drifting around looking for another to take me back home.

dissipated and disillusioned worms eating through the last splinters of the rotting universal wood.

the last transmission of regret sent electronically, spluttered,
into a tissue; in a moment of self indulgent *******.

live showings of vicious execution, transmitted directly from the electromagnetic waves into the alpha waves of the young and naive. Desensitization, the last drops of humanity into complete disengagement.

endlessly recycled bohemian ideologies whispered into the ear of the eager idealist. spreading like fire, before burning out into the uncatchable reverie up with the stars, with all the other reveries, shining bright, intangible.

Instant dismissal from the old man, as the big curtain draws. Cynicism and fragmented past, falling on apathetic eyes, a proud man treat with a padded hand. faux sympathetic tones, blushing cheeks on old bones.

Begging with your body crumbling to dust with the disinterested doc, looking at the clock counting the milliseconds to the paycheck. Decomposing until you can be swept under the perpetual rug with the rest, Vacuum.