a heartbreak is the open book
of love's broken promises
that by hook or crook we evade
keeping, and sink in the quagmire
of a misery enunciated by our moans
someone must break your waxy heart
to make you a true lover one day soon

it's never really that important
what you amass while you live
unless it's love and goodwill
enough to give you a ***** thrill
brought on by your urge to give
therein lies the mystic mix and fix
for to give freely is to get blessed
and see your muddles melt away

to you all my good friends through time
i dedicate this poem with loving nostalgia
you each left an indellible mark on me
frankieboy you knew how to duck and feign
and you gave me a blue eye that wouldn't go
dannyboy you were always the funny one
making smelly noises under your armpit
sonnyboy you were the sleepwalking mother's boy
i remember you for being a neat dresser
but each one of you was just a station on my route
to places i thought mattered until i got there
now i'm back to stay, but to whom will i tell my story?
you're all gone now, transported by mother time into time

there are no moments of distraction
when love wanes like sickly flowers in a vase
       pining is an alien preoccupation
when love has lapped your shores and ebbed
    you sleep dead like a drunken old *****
snoring the nightmares away on a bed of stone
sighs, whispers and sweet-nothings are mirages
when love won't stay for coconut juice and pulp
you don't conjure up sublime verse anymore
  after reticent love has fled your sandy shores
you don't dream up fantastic schemes anymore
    when love proves to have been a bad idea
and you were always going to be the one hurt

the flier in me is not a fly in the ointment
the flier in me daily basks in ambient glory
the flier in me is a hopeful at your door
waiting to be puzzled by you, the enigma
and betimes be indulged with some attention
the flier in me glitters and sparkles truly
because you're the source of my highness
i rise into the sky and soar into the universe
propelled by the image of your birthday suit
that reminds me that that's the natural thing
to be; naked and noble like a new creation
so there i go again flapping flimsy wings
that nobody sees; feeling like old-time magic
i want to thank you prompt of my quests
i want to thank you agitator of my longing
i want to thank you lovely seer and siren
i thank you for these blossoms open in me
i thank you for teaching me to fly like a bird
straight into the shelter of your cuddly nest
where i shall be anchored in calm waters
and soon rinsed in a cascading shower of bliss
my sweet seer and siren, i promise you this:
i shall be true though my wings should melt
as did the wings of hapless ikaros the greek

whenever i go away and i do so often
i feel like a part of me has stayed behind
and so i linger and keep looking back
at a world that's gone suddeny hostile
you have that dry look that shuts me out
like a smelly wanderer in a glitzy place

you're pouting
  i'm sulking
you're peeved
  i'm mellow
   and i know
it's the corazon
not the amazon
that's got me
whispering
      and
   whistling
  as el nino
  rains dearth
and we weep to see
good things go bad

i'd struggle to see anything funny
in a world that was no longer sunny
we'd be penguins on some cold shore
dawdling stiffly in the icy indifference
of those who stand by and watch
they hope in their hard hearts that we slip
and maybe lie there, broken forever, and sleep
the sleep of those who go away and never retun

once there were three kittens
three fluffy blue-eyed kittens
huddling in the dusty corner
of a disused swimming pool
where mother cat put them all
one day the rain poured down
in sheets to make all three drown
but they had nine lives by three
so after the rain the kittens still
huddled together waiting still
for mother cat to bring the mice
one morning one kitten was gone
on another morning another went
to join it's semi-wild cousins in the dark
then at last the third kitten leapt out
and was gone to cat hunting grounds
in all this drama the fluffy kittens were cute
cuddly and demure with soft pleading eyes

you have always been there for me
smiling your warm wonderful smiles
seeing the good in me  when i couldn't
for that and more, my friends, i thank you

your deep belief in me was legendary
and if truth be told, it was amazing
you hung onto my every single word
for that and more, my friends, i thank you

my dreams were always your dreams too
and you were never ever in any doubt
that one day the artist in me would shine
for that and more, my friends, i thank you

these many years later with many of us gone
some of you think i can, even now, still make it
your faith in me is really and truly amazing
for that and more, my friends, i thank you

day in and day out i cry before life and fortune
i beseech those who dispense these things
to please just give me a break before it's too late
but for everything, my friends, i thank you

i'm writing this one big book for us all
a book to justify all the waiting and all the faith
a book to make other books pale into oblivion
and for keeping the dream alive, my friends, i thank you

always  always be ready for when trouble
comes knocking on your door with a flayed knuckle
for trouble always has a bare visage to make you buckle
it always has the patience of an hour glass and its sand
thus, you must needs learn how to endure and stand
against troubled winds in a sometimes irksome world

when you're bigger
are you any bigger, really
perhaps you're just the trigger
of an assortment of events
when by others you're called small
are you in truth really small
perhaps you like playing the victim
with what lens do you look at things
with what misgivings do you struggle
against all the things that in you huddle
isn't it time to dump it all in that puddle
now that the spotlight is on your fuddle
somewhere within sight of your experiences
then walk forward in keeping with your destiny

backdrop
animated face
wandering eyes
the word lay on his tongue
              naked
as all lies are
and truths too betimes

the howling wind held its breath
the eclipse let drip a few mysteries
the ocean floor stirred like a cauldron
and i heard the faint whizz of a life gone

my heart beat in rhythm to my desires
my lips trembled before the word leapt out
inside i was a freshly-laid egg waiting to be picked
and abroad the wind whispered its open secrets

i knew then what lay deep in my heart of hearts
a sacred word spoken countless times but always new
i knew also that i was a child of new times and concerns
and that i was love's foot soldier because you said so

he parted the flimsy curtain
and saw her petite figure flee
his impoverished life in some glee
his muscle and brawn weren't enough
and everything was suddenly so tough
as he contemplated the cold evenings ahead
and the silent moments without her infectious laughter
he knew without doubt that nothing would ever be softer
than her measured walk out of his life and yet have such wrath
that morning was a morning of sorrowful discoveries and pain
the flap of her jacket as she walked up the incline to the open road
was like a metaphorical but macabre shaking of the dust that he was
forgotten now but abandoned a long time ago as they both knew
it took a morning such as this one to put a seal to what once was
for so long, so far way and long ago in another country and another time
when he mattered and was still the prize she sought for waiting so long

you flaunt your glad rags
and taunt me for my shreds
you're a human rainbow
in a riot of colour and style
your shoes are from italy
a rich cobbler's work in genoa
your floral tie is pure chinese
with dainty designs and rich feel
you still speak well of pepsodent
and the wonders of fresh breath
compared to you and your riches
i'm an imitation human being
eating fruit and raw vegetables
while you wax lyrical on lasagna
chilli con carne and and tequila
at some up-market restaurant
in the leafy part of town
where your fleet of cars is a marvel
compared to my lowly fare your affluence
is almost banal in its carefree loudness
you've never worn broken shoes ever
or had a toe peep out of smelly socks
and you've never gone without food
surfeit is your other name, and everything
is a gas; your wild parties are legendary
i see all this from my hole in the ground
safe in the stench of the bad characters
that loiter and swagger in my world
blessed are the rich and famous of our times
for they shall only discover their poverty
when the party is over and it's time to go home

out of bouts of manic depression
into whirlwind ego trips

when i found you
i was looking for the sun in a smile
i was waiting to catch a melody from silent lips
and i was hoping for a latterday miracle on demand
when i found you
i was hungry for showers of adulation from your eyes
i wanted you to cry rivers and oceans because you'd found me
i wanted to recline upon a dream dressed in fanciful whims
and i wanted you to be the reason for happiness and wonder
when i found you
i was looking to spice up my life and give it  lots of deep thunder
when i found you
i was searching for sweet temptation in the arms of life's puzzles
i was waiting to hear the whine of the wind and the voice of a breeze
sailing the blue skies on a perfect afternoon for wishing and dreaming
when i found you
i knew you were the enigmatic lover and muse of my yearnings
and i knew i was looking at someone to contemplate in eternity

i'm stting, i'm thinking and i'm wishing
time could have frozen on that wistful day
a cold misty morning in the month of may
a day i discovered how a heart can whisper
and how a stomach can sometimes growl
against  the many who scheme and prowl
as they plot someone's downfall and demise
before it happens the system's alarm rings
an ominous melody about sly deception
i'm sitting here in my sorrow and aloneness
thinking and wishing sweets would come

i'm writing
the mother of all poems
a poem with a taste like late harvest wine
a poem with whiffs of smoke and loud bird calls
i'm writing
the mother of all poems
a poem that closes the schisms and binds like glue
one that makes you drowsy under the shade
and gives shape and size to your thirsts
i'm writing
the mother of all poems
a poem with the delicate poise of a ballerina in a tutu
and the raw energy of an entranced ethnic dancer in the tropics
driven by the booming sounds of a pulsating drum
i'm writing
the mother of all poems
soft to the touch like finest silk or velvet
restful like a wind that's been around the world and back
i'm writing
the mother of all poems
a poem that will say it all in a single definitive word
a poem whose cadence is a hypnotic chant for therapeutic sessions
i'm writing a poem for all people in all places for all time
so indeed they wait and hope to catch the word in their hearts

look no more at the dying sun
search no further in that distance
and hope no more for magic moments

cry no more for lost opportunities
wish no more for dead assurance
that your time shall indeed come

hallelujah we march to our resolution
mindful of fun and failure at life’s rendezvous
our hearts pierced by the ***** arrows of dearth

when days of plenty abound and scarcity flourishes
we see and ****** that which our hearts yearn for
and become finders keepers as in the days of yore

when i want to be serenaded
i go where i can be persuaded
by the thumping beat of my heart
to dance to the lively beat of yours
you see, my life springs out of you
and always has this vibrant hue
so when i want to pay homage
to life and mystery incorporated
i humble myself and on all fours
lick the life juices of fleeting moments
till i'm hungry and blue no more

her glossy lips
a poisoned chalice
and her eyes
a flaming brand
to sear the heart
she shot toxin
into his slain ego
and he groaned
a dirge folorn
till its shreds
fled in the wind
and the swirl in her subsided
but she saved the best for last
you don't get it, do you?
in the country of my heart
you're dead and buried
she said
ground to dust under my heel
you don't get it, do you?
he felt a great darkness creeping in
and knew his day was done
as was hers, her ire being spent
with a hypnotic smile
and a darting red tongue
she gave him the kiss of death
and eased him into oblivion
without so much as a qualm

plastic money
plastic rice
plastic taste
plastic smile
all fake!

cares and snares are all the same
and many thought it was a game
too late they found it was for good
and their lazy thought was their food

sometimes
i think i'm flying
and i ponder as i hover
over thought light as a feather
and ethereal as a mad man's dream
sometimes
i think i'm dying
because i think i'm alive
and without substance or essence
i float about free and frivolous
and make-believe that my preoccupations matter
sometimes
i think that if i cry a river like one in fever
i might find i have exorcised all the sorrow in me
and that a new regime of easy laughter comes in
sometimes ...
just sometimes

wearing his thick jacket and weary gumboots
                 the heat notwithstanding
the man is forever abroad on his strange mission
    his hat is the contraption that covers it all
as he feigns distraction and people call him mad
to live a life that has no surprises, only a pattern
how can they possibly know what he's brewing
or what he intends one blessed day to be stewing
in the big *** of dreams that he tends each day
those who want to know must,like him, be mad
only then will they see what really is in the sea
and how atlantis was a figment of souls hungry
for those unusual things from off the beaten path

in this belated realization that it's a raw and cynical age
we search diligently in the rubble for relevance
just as we look where we shouldn't for excellence
and bemused by it all we find that we're in a cage

again and again we lap against the shores
of our sleepfulness as we do our chores
and hope for the echo that tells us move
even if there's no treasure trove promised

at the end of a dream we start another
at the start of another dream there's no bother
about detail or assurance it will happen this next time
it is in the nature of life to keep hoping and struggling

so now that times move quickly towards resolution
and now that contradictions dissolve in revolution
i hear the chiming of a distant bell in the far distance
it bids me move resolutely to my perpetual perch

where i shall crane my neck for metaphorical gold nuggets
So my wild adventurous friend and fellow traveller
let us be off then and be doing and let us truly be deserving
of the adoration and adulation that comes with being a winner

in victories that taste like ash because you begin to wonder
what it was all about and just who it was stole your thunder
it is a perpertual puzzle how everything only lasts a moment
and how we can't quite recall it all even though we would

the eclipse in me
    dissipated
and a primeval sun rose
from the depths of my being
you were the reason for all that
      and i celebrated you
with crazy little things:
   i leapt up a tree
  nimble as a cat
and hung upside down
from a supple branch on high
touching the ground again
i went into a crazy spin
till i felt i was too ragged and mean
to fathom incidental mysteries
then you told me things
that made me delirious
and like one fleeing the virus
     i ran around the block
reminiscing about a bleating flock
that could never be contrary
              when
    in the morning haze
    of my clogged mind
freedom was the absence of joy
and joy the nemesis of sadness

i'm the drone of a distant engine
   you hear it but never go to it
i'm the  rush of blood to your head
  you feel it but do not crumble
i'm the swishing wind in your garden
  i tell you about fads and phases
        but you pay me no heed
i'm the distracted man passing by
you want to know my destination
           but you never ask
lest that adage about curiosity and the cat
       should turn out to be true
i'm the love you know you're losing
      but sorrow and rejection
           were also made
                  for you
                  as for me
         So dear home-bound
   hold fast to what you found
            that nasty morning
of numb thoughts and frozen breath

gingerly on the knife-point of a problem
my inflated ego slowly was punctured
i heard the hiss of its demystification
in that constricted moment of revelation
a moment that enthused about the demise
of my avid hallucination now laid bare
salvation, the voice of naked truths chanted
is neither in the fig leaves nor in bashfulness
and the humming monotone of desperation
is a boost to candid inactivity and stillness
it is in such big-bore moments that we of
puerile yearnings recognize our childishness
a voice told me to stop tempting fate forthwith
for in truth i was a child with a dangerous toy
and only pampered tutors could stay the course

a wayward wind blasted heresies my way
and i rode its juggernaut almost to dusty oblivion
but my saviour was never ever too far away
that maestro whispering ditties at my window
and just before the fall she licked my ear
with a tongue laced with a golden truth:
the poetic route is a trip to redemptive ecstasy

i want you to know dear reader
that i've given up playing the saint
and it's time for a few home truths
i'm  shooting straight from the heart
and though toxic nothing will stop me
bleeding an ocean till i'm done for sure
this time my dripping words will go thud
into that shameless unfeeling love infidel
and i shall know peace of a kind at last
aaah, the beauty and the catharsis!

squinting up the leaves of the bountiful tree
i espied a mango ripe and soft with goodness
as the sun came gently filtering through
aloft the wings of a little fellow with a long beak
and a brisk song to celebrate dinner found
my feathered visitor hovered above the vintage prize
and as his thirsty proboscis drilled the succulent mango
the warm enticing juice, natural and healthy as ever,
drip-settled in the base of my hungry open eye
i thought i heard a flourish in the triumphant bird-song
such as one at the fall of a big wicket; and
in that slow-motion moment, i knew: the mango was his,
and it'd now be eat and let eat, till the last delectable mango

this is the part where we say
it was nice knowing you dear
go to your destiny with no fear
let my tattered heart shed its tear
as i feel you slip away from me
on a morning when nothing makes sense
because you have chosen to go and make cents
in the ignominy of a fabled land across the big river
and i shall without doubt in the days ahead be in a shiver
and weep when i think of the things we do for nothing
in this world of sorrow and intrigue from the schemes of others

Shame on you
For making my heart bleed
and shredding my ego
Shame on you
For fleeing from one so true
And making me oh so blue
Shame on you
I’ve been but a shadow
All these besotted years
In the eerie corridor
Of your yawning indifference
Weeping and waning before your disdain
Shame on you
It was never my crown that I wore
When my whole being was all sore
You were my grieving destination
And my putrid dream with a caption
That said I was a loser
Parading in a flamboyant cruiser
Shame on you
For killing the room with dead flowers
Spraying it with bugs that fell like confetti
Just so you’d see me squirm and groan
In the teeming smell of bloodsuckers
Shame on you
I thought I had the right theme for a life
Of surfeit from the largess of the love i thought we had
Shame on you
For poisoning a hope so vivid and alive
You made me beg for bitter morsels from your nightmares
Then ‘took the gap’ to a place where you’d be the story
and I'd be the hapless man who chased a rotten dream
Shame on you
You gave love a bad name

indisposition, indisposition
you drive a hard bargain!
indisposition leave me till it's done
leave me
till I've kissed a girl and made her cry
leave me
till i've written my story in one word
leave me
till i've been to the ends of the earth
leave me
till i've died a little for everyone
indisposition dear taskmaster
leave me
till i've made amends for all the crazy things i've done
and for all the phenomenal things i haven't done
indisposition leave me be
till aching dreams have eased into being
leave me
till i have proven my traducers and detractors wrong
indisposition, then and only then
can i float and gloat like a happy ghost
forever in ethereal limbo before the next airy phase
indisposition,
leave me till it's done!

Jeannie
is off to the bus
Jeannie
waltzes to the bus
Ooh what a drag
the conductor says
Jeannie
the bus is full
Jeannie
has a heartbreak
it was
all for nothing
the perfume
the high heels
and
the walk on air

I drink to you perfect stranger
You who ignored the danger
I drink to you son of another
You who took time to bother
About hapless misfits like me
Clueless sods that still believed
In the fictional good of humanity
In your moment of supreme grace
You freed me from my scepticism
So we became joined at the heart
And sealed our fates in perpetuity
For to have a mission is to perish
And be interred in some parish
A sentimental plaque the epitaph
To the vanquished dead and gone
By the ungrateful living here now

love walked past my gate
and all i had was this hate
frying my insides fiendishly
in a wish spiced with bile
at a sad banquet craving madly
for unending serenity and glee
when love strolled past again
someone else was by her side
and i was forever the chameleon
in fast-changing shades of green
felled by bouts of unabated longing
and whipped into submission by my loss
so i reaped the famished fruit of my cross

I’m full of loud buzz
I’m a fizzy in a glass
I’ve got true class
to crown my suavity
I boast shining amity
in the seething cauldron
of a churning world
that our forbearers
would swear  always
was tossing and turning
and writhing and sighing
as equilibrium dissipated
at a time not anticipated
a time to lie down and cry
for the gory scenes in the world

i speak of
rampant confusion
that's not
rabid profusion
i speak of
sapping exhaustion
that's not
of debilitation
i speak of
manic depression
that's from
naked manipulation
i speak of
senseless obsession
that's from
candid illusion
and i speak of
fictional annointing
born of
endless seizure and seeking
i speak of
unadulterated reeking
grown out of
staggering imbibing
after stunning rejection
and numbing oblivion
i speak of
endless yearning
endless seeking
endless delusion
endless exclusion
thwarted efforts
dead dreams
and misguided hope
i speak of
...

the haloed sun above winked like a sage
and its searing smile stirred coy memories
that sailed the blue sky like feathery petals
cascading like a shower of floating fancies

and in a shallow pond above the rapids
where the waters gurgled and roared
their call for blessings at the mystic waterfall
the kingfisher was soon to be with the grateful dead

the couple engrossed in the snares of scented life
gazed up at the sky in search of the evening star
that twinkling would witness a girl taken to wife
in the misty coolness of a spray of charmed wishes

the timid bride with latent fire in her heart and limbs
had a wet kimono wrapped around her treasures mild
she prayed that if she be preyed upon it had to be wild
and abandoned; consuming even as the sun danced its exit

a snaky trickle of golden warmth poured down like honey
coursed through the articulate body to coagulate inside her cup
and she became paralyzed with the joy and wonder of creation
enacted once again in this moment of pleasurable stillness

and the first of her petals was well on its way to necessary ejection
and a soft landing in the hearts of those who wait for signs

i'm going to tell it like it is
you're a despicable little imp
telling me to chill and mellow
when i should bloom and fly
but i now know better than cry
and i won't wilt because you're sly
it's time for me to branch out without you

my dear little sweet pea
truly, you're my cup of tea
what the doctor ordered
a vintage prescription wonder
that guarantees i never wander
                  now
there's no more trepidation in my heart
and i'm on autopilot as i approach the gates of love
i will send you no flowers because they pale before you
you're a flower whose warm glow illuminates eternity
and your sweet tenderness has legendary attributes all for me
my sweet little pea tell them things to wring their hearts sore
and set my heart galloping with the absolute joy of certainty

the quiet whispers aroused a gnawing doubt
that was insidious, surreptitious and incessant
and spoke to him well above a timid shout
that said verbal power lay in being conversant
with what the heart is and just how brittle it is
when callous heartbreakers are abroad at ease
he pleaded himself vanquished and broken
and said he needed no eleventh hour token
to tease a compliant smile out of the shreds
of self-belief that *****-nilly everyone sheds
when belittled by the mule kicks of misfortune
from belated action when no longer opportune
thus he told his heart to be still and his mind to rest
life and experience had shown him what was best
when the world became a bitter and mazy wilderness
and that, in truth, was his unending epiphany, with
naked truths and outright lies in the dusk that had to come

he was scarce
like goodwill
and she was forgotten
like an old world story
till a chance meeting made them gather
crumbs and snippets to weave a fresh ditty
and follow a new dream to the ends of reality