With reverent hands we desperately fumble for something to hold on to. Forgetting that what we seek is really ourselves. Maybe it’s easier to look outside than it is to look within. And yet you wander where magic comes from. But I see it in everything you do. Shed the shackles that chain you down and the moonlight will dance upon your beautiful naked soul. And a memory will leave a quiver of a smile upon your lips. Take my hand and permit me to voyage upon the choppy waters of your thoughts. There we will travel to sobriety and we’ll hook our dreams on the crook of a cloud so that no matter which way we face, the sun will always shine on us.

I thought that was bold
You placed my hand on your thigh
Under the table
In that crowded restaurant
A few people were staring
I could feel my cheeks burning
Your leg was on fire
And so was my desire.

He was the boy with matted brown hair and bright blue eyes who sat alone on that solitary bench almost every day that summer. He was picking at the guitar planted firmly in his lap and there were pieces of scribbled note paper strewn all around him. I asked what he was doing and he said he was writing a song. I asked for whom and he said, “I don’t know yet but it’s for when I meet the perfect girl”. He was searching for that secret combination of twenty-six letters that would make her at least think of him now and then. And maybe someday even call him hers.

If you were a city you’d be an eclectic place to live. You’d be as classy as Paris, as hip as LA, as cultured as Rome and as wild as Amsterdam. And I’d gladly spend all eternity exploring your winding back alleys, city pavements and rolling hills just so I know how the sunrise and sunset look from every square inch of you. So with every step I take, with every new discovery made, let it spell an alphabet from a never ending love letter to the pleasures of simply having found you.

A cusp. An apex. Something was brewing as it quietly stirred in the dark. It was the idea of rebellion that mesmerised under the deadbolt of my closed mind. It was all that passion. But whatever was it for if it was to remain bottled up? All that ****** passion just kept on a shelf. Maybe we will never know it even exists until a completed story reveals itself. And then there will be nothing left to do but accept what it is as it is. So as compensation try to delight in a walk through the cool midnight breeze as you push back against the hot sidewalk heat of a long and smoky month. Brush past the traffic and the neon signs and all the noise this city breathes and just let its madness envelope you in its warm and dizzying embrace.

A night like this, staring down a white line and it feels like I’m not even moving. And as the headlights slice the endless sea of dark, the engine hums to the malancholy that keeps calling me home. Memories roll by with every lamp post I pass and the windshield wipers seem to beat to the rhythm of my pounding heart. The could haves and should haves punctuate every memory until there’s nothing left but a cold emptiness and a dark stretch of highway. I’m trying to forget but the poetics of space will leave an aftertaste of everything that used to be.

I would usually drive home but it was the sort of night that you just had to experience. It was one of those humid nights but chilly enough that I had to turn my collar up. So I walked back and let the pulse of the city engulf me. I felt rather cool and fancied that I struck a very Dean-esque figure walking about as adrenalin pumped through the streets and flowed into me, energising me. You suddenly grabbed my hand and I felt electricity flow through your fingers and jolt me. I think you felt it too because you smiled when I winced from the touch. Tomorrow morning the city would return to normal buzzing with business folk rushing about with cups of coffee in one hand and cellphones in the other but tonight it bristles with magik. And just like us, tomorrow we would morph into our old boring selves again but for now we could pretend to be anyone we wanted to be.

Once again, after the rampage is through
you ask me to stay
in the chaos of regret that ensues
you swear that you'll change,
and this willing fool readily falls to pieces
all my defenses crumble and collect at your feet
as I lose sight of the things that i want
to the blinding need
and guilty desires
laid bare in your eyes.

If I could leave you with one last thing
it would be ‘thank you’
thank you for scrubbing off the blackened, charred skin
and helping me shine again.

You made me realise, truly realise
that I wasn’t the first person to feel hurt
and I certainly wouldn’t be the last
that I didn’t have a monopoly
on sorrow or pain
but…
you told me that if I ever did get hurt
you’d be there to kiss away the pain.

Thank you because you showed me it was ok to trust again.

I want to listen to the night rain with you. We’ll sneak out when everyone’s asleep. Creep through the woods and over the hill. To that spot where noone knows. I don’t care if it rains all night. I just want to pick daffodils and waste wishes with you. Watch them fly to the moon and dance among the stars. Let it pour, let it rain. You can be my ‘dancing barefoot in the wet grass’, I’ll be your ‘t-shirt hanging on a limb’. I want to listen to the night rain with you.

All the rivers have run dry
and all the bridges have been burnt to the ground
someone buried the hatchet ages ago
everyone knows but me
won't you turn around, you may see
a whirling mass of rolling ash
and there's me, standing solitary in the enveloping plumes
with hammer and tools in hand
no one told me you can't ever fix a broken heart.

I’ll love you like the moon loves the ocean. From a distance but always there. And even though there will be times you’ll find it hard to see me. You must know that there’s a smile on my face. For the dance you do as you kiss the shore is one that will captivate me till the sun and the stars burn out one by one and I’m floating in nothing but the essence of you.

This is a poem about someone else
so don’t look away
don’t hurt yourself
(when you look in their eyes)
you might see me staring back
I am the mirror
and you’ve picked out the devil in the details
so grab hold of the one you love
and tell them that with every touch
     you feel the sun rise from your hips
tell yourself it isn’t a sin
that you’re still moved by the tornadoes I stoked
     when I stroked your skin
and we could be so wrong together
like the stars and the moon
  destined to outshine the other
but we can never be right for anyone else
(but) this is a poem about someone else
and if you’re on your own
don’t look away
don’t hurt yourself.

You settle for less than fascination with anyone who looks like they possess a heartbeat. As those tungsten stars reflect in your eyes, you dance with strangers and you give them hope they might be the one. The strange new flesh you hold onto is interesting but it isn’t the one you want to be holding. You teach your heart to ignore this. And it does as you paint on your best smile onto cherry coloured lips. But it fails to disguise the true hurt you feel inside. And when they dim the lights at closing time, stripping shadows of any hiding place, you agitate and search for the blackness and temporary comfort of blankets. Your shelter is an empty bed where you lay down an impression of loneliness. Where you curl into a tiny little ball hoping you won’t inconvenience anyone by taking up too much space. But you wake up in the middle of the night and realise that you are indeed alone. And there’s noone there to steal the blankets from. There’s noone to snuggle up to. There’s noone to share the darkness with. Flip open your phone and let the light of that small display burn your face while your eyes adjust to the offensive light. Look for that particular number, the one that’s tattooed onto your brain and ghost your fingertips over the call button. Think awhile, “Should I call? Shouldn’t I call?”

She was brilliance, colour and strangeness wrapped in a neat package. Without speaking she points upwards to the Heavens and you strain your eyes to see translucent stars and galaxies playing amongst the secrets of the Universe. And in that fleeting moment, you realise that perhaps you have found your infinity in her. It was time to finally come home.

You,
are the dark circles beneath my eyes
from spending too many nights
wishing you were here
instead of there.

          You,
          are the hitch in my breath
          when someone mentions your name
          and the smile that invades my face
          when I think of the things you do.

                    You,
                    are the shiver down my spine
                    as I recall those magic moments
                    when being close to you
                    was never quite close enough.

                              You,
                              are the regret I will always have
                              a wound that just won’t heal
                              as permanent as a tattoo
                              the ghost that remains
                              you,
                              are everywhere.

I’m doing just fine. I go out on the weekends and I dance with strangers like it doesn’t remind me of you. I laugh with new friends and the smell of jasmine no longer makes me think of your perfume. I no longer remember how the lights from those tungsten stars reflected in your eyes. And guess what, I can smile brighter now and I’ve even forgotten the way your hand fit seamlessly into mine. I can go home alone, turn up the TV and drown out every single memory of you.

Everything that once was
now a wisp of a memory
tinged with hues of regret
like an eternal kiss,
burled in an angel’s *****
or a kiss goodbye
from a summer lilac.

A peculiar feeling
like a strange spell
cast over me
and dominates me
it’s a kiss like black magic
and a love like a divine light.

Such is the obsession
the minutiae of everyday life
or could you be a temptation
one much like an ******
coming and going without reason or want.

But the seduction exists
and in the end everything is clear
yet nothing remains
a subtext hidden in a satire of words
ever since Man walked in the Garden with the snake
when hearing your voice
sounds like friction against your skin
but the sentences you speak
sound unfamiliar, foreign and cold.

And love, what is this dagger
which stabs and hurts but does not hurt
a perfect marriage between madness and passion
with both arms tied and my heart bloodied in the corner
hallucinating promises
and straddling broken dreams.

When it no longer hurt to hear your name said out loud, a friend asked me what it was like being with you. He broached the topic cautiously and with an apologetic smile on his face.

I said it was horrible. He said, “What? Why?”. I told him that the way you treated me, with the constant to-ing and fro-ing of emotions, left me with a bad case of emotional whiplash.

Then he said, “Isn’t that what love is? Love makes you confuse what’s up and what’s down”.

I told him it’s only ever worth it if you end up with the person. After all, no one remembers the runner up to any race. The winner takes it all, the loser has to fall.

I climbed your ribs to the very last rung
but in spite of the effort, bruised knees and broken skin
I’ll finish this race
where I started from
because someone’s future taunts me
sitting in a past I could never outrun.

Conscious yet half asleep in that crowded bus I caught a glimpse of you. In the middle of that humid night ride home I thought I saw you smile at me. And then you were gone.
I had lost you again.

A dip into healing meditation
warm water cascades over me
and my skin glitters like silver scales
flashing bright like diamonds
washing me anew
breathing new life into aching flesh
dancing over me
gentle like reeds along the shore
I submerge like a pearl in sea of liquid gold
refreshed I rise
a crystal swan in a sky of suns.

A kiss
but a brief encounter
of souls, through lips,
but how does a moment
contain such enormity
when falling in love
could taste like centuries.

I smolder
as you edge closer
and as the smoke rises
you take my hand
      and lead me into desire
as the flames lick and engulf us
our paper hearts are set on fire.

In the midnight hour
I listen to the wind
racing through the dark
its song beautifully broken
as it kisses every dream
that glides upon its wings.

There’s a knock and before I can get to it, in comes Self Doubt barging through the door. He prances in and smiles at me like we’re old friends. And he shakes my hand and pats me on the back as he walks past me and settles into the sofa as if it were the most natural thing in the world. I’m left with my mouth agape, fumbling like a fool to shut the door and hang his coat. I’ll speak some pleasantries as he eyes my movements like a hawk staring down a prey readying itself for the final swoop. But we both know that if he’s already here, I may as well be standing naked in an open field waving a white flag of surrender. And like a fish out of water I will gasp for air. But my old friend Self Doubt and I have played this game over and over again. There have been countless nights we duel in silence just staring at each other. Because even in my weakened state I will claw and kick for any last ounce of life. We both know what will save me. But you never save me.

Letting it all sink in
dragging my shadow behind me
and existing between probable and possible
I don’t mind stepping into the great unknown
but an almost hello doesn’t count for much
and you know I hate living in the gray areas of maybe
wishing and hoping that in those moments of painful hesitation
something that looks like love might fall through
but this living in limbo is like living in hell
caught between a rock and a could’ve, would’ve, and should’ve
at least in hell you know you’re dead
here in the waiting room there’s no consolation for the living
every second feels like a lifetime
I swear that I’m betting on the real thing
but why do I always walk away with nothing
and like a fool I place my hopes in one basket
hoping a memory might save me
from going insane.

There is a summer breeze
tangled in your hair
and it feels like a California sunshine
flowing through my fingers,
won't you take me with you
so that when the winters descend
I'm not left with just an illusion of you.

Would it make any difference
if I stood in a field of clover
beneath a velvet sky
studded with stars
that glowed with delight
and swayed to the music
of the rhythms of the night?

Would you believe
that this magik
was made for you and I?

Fluorescent lights and lonely eyes
this bar is full of smoke and the smell of stale cigarettes
there's another fool getting into a fight
spilled beer leads to a broken face
and through a cloud of smoke
you walk in like you're looking for me
in the corner booth
you're drawing hearts on the palm of my hands
connecting straight to my heart
it feels all too familiar and I get up to leave
you reach over and whisper,
"we ain't no good for each other but we ain't made for no one else"
and I'm walking away
with you right behind me
I smile because you know I say with every sway
let's do
what lovers do
we'll hold each other
in parentheses,
your curves
holding onto mine
in perfect alignment
even if
it's only pretend.

Alone outside
standing on the dying embers of what is left of a perfect day
a gentle breeze blows through my thoughts
clearing the haze
amplifying the silence and doubts inside my head
distraction forces the emptiness away
there’s nothing more to say
as I watch the storm approach
clouds as heavy as drapes roll in
and soon rain blankets the earth
lightning cracks
I’ll flinch in the semi darkness
as the grass turns electric under my feet
the leaves dance orange and red
encircling me like confetti on fire
igniting an old memory
soft and bittersweet it rises to the surface
I hope you understand why I shiver
with a mix of awe and fear
at its impending power and threat
but I remain as still as possible
ignoring the danger
because nothing compares to the burning in my head.

Don’t tell me that it’s better off in the long run
That this will do us good
When I’m stuck living in yesterday
And you’re spending my tomorrow
with somebody new.

Sorrow isn’t a goodbye
It isn’t forgotten dreams shared over cups of bitter coffee
Sorrow is having love walk away
And realising it’s taking with it your best friend.

What of all those plans
Left out in the sun to dry
Old tarnished remnants, of how it used to be
Standing like monuments
Chiseled by the winds of time, until nothing remains.

That’s you riding shotgun beside the victor
Sparing a melancholic glance at me through the rear view window
I’ll wipe my face but you won’t see
These tears that stain
So as rivulets of black carve canals down my cheeks
Don’t you dare tell me that it’s better in the long run.

I think you’re completely insane. But that’s alright because personally there are not enough like you around. All you longshots and dark horse runners. You hairbrush singers and dashboard drummers. All you wild magnolias just waiting to bloom. And yes, I lifted that straight off a country song but so what? If a song says it better than I ever could, I think we should all don cowboy hats and start line dancing right here, right now. Wouldn’t that be insane? But I’ll bet it’ll be a memory to remember and come back to on days when your heart needs a reason to smile. So come on all you free souls and firefly chasers. All you porch swingers and air guitar players. Let’s put our dancing boots on and shake down the walls that around us. Thank God crazy dreams come true. And thank God for Carrie Underwood.

I collected every sigh
you breathed
while you lay asleep
in my arms

and with each one
I blessed the shadows
and offered a sacrament
to the God
that kept us entwined
in these sheets.

I want to consume you
I want to singe you
let my flames lick you
tattoo my touch on your skin
in a insatiable controlled burn.

And there she stood, her head held high above the luminous cirrus clouds of ecstacy. She had been here before but there was never enough time to luxuriate in the feeling. Not until this moment. But now, those memories were distant like the stars you observe through a telescope. A whisper of a dream like the pretty echoes of those long gone. She closed her eyes and stretched out her arms as she exploded into a million tiny fragments. The wind carried her on its wings and scattered her among the emerald trees that glisten like diamonds in the morning dew.

I remember that first kiss
Trembling lips and breathless sighs
And the red on my shirt,
Was it blood or wine from your lips
Walk on by and my heart still skips a beat
Watch me fall all over again
Medusa’s lure in the curve of your smile.

Remembrance like hazy days
of drinking too much and laughing too loud
forgetting to measure each minute that passed
till hope dwindles to a flickering ember
and everything that once was
turns into a shadow on the wall
the tattered wallpaper in someone’s heart
like a latent memory of searing regrets
or an eternal kiss,
burled into an angel’s *****
a kiss goodbye from a summer’s lilac.

Did you know
that when I think of you
I'm bathed in shades of blue,
and I often wonder
if you ever think of me
what color would I seem to you?

Each day you drive in circles until you realise you’ve been on this same route for months. And then the cold blows in, loudly announceing its arrival like an unwelcomed but expected guest in the the wee hours of the morning. It drags its feet across the tarmac and tiny whirling tornados follow with every heavy step. There’s nothing left to do because now, the cold is here to stay. And it’s determined to make you accept this no matter how hard you kick and scream against it. With every blow, every blast and every tingle that goes shooting down your spine, your resilience lessens. Sometimes, in a moment of weakness, you could be forgiven for even considering the cold as a welcomed lover. Because it steals your breath. And in the mornings you’d rather lie in bed surrounded by its chilly embrace.

He was unsure so he looked at her more intently and it seemed like the stars burned a little brighter everytime she blinked. Her lustrous eyes held the shine of a million galaxies and when she moved she swayed to a private melody in which she danced for someone yet unknown. No one could understand why her tender brows embodied a slight worry or sadness that begged for him to stay the night and cradle her head in his lap as she fell in and out of slumber. Staring at her was like a dream, and he could spend his waking life asleep if she’d continue to be the muse of his nights.

He held her too close and he held her too tight. For him time stood still. But for her, the ticking of her wristwatch never sounded so crisp and clear. She knew he was falling for her but she wished she could silence her inner voice telling her to pull away from that familiar embrace. Holding on for a few more seconds couldn’t possibly hurt anyone. And so she did. She held on tight. Perhaps they both did. In spite of what she kept telling herself, she pulled away. She broke the hold just as she felt her heartbeat thud and thump in time with his. It could not, should not when it was already tuned to that of another beat.

You can preoccupy your mind with every new girl that you touch
keep a list, keep a tab, keep yourself busy
but you know that you're just trying to find me in every one of them.

Go ahead blame it on someone, blame it on me
say that my tummy is too flabby, my thighs are too big
and my elbows are too rough
but see,
those are the very things you look out for in every new person you meet.

And why can't you sleep at night even when she's in your arms
the quiet of your room is an oppressive screaming silence
because my sighs were the only sounds able to put you to sleep.

Friends tell me you don't look at the stars anymore because you've found them in her
you can lie to them and you can lie to yourself
but the truth is, you don't look because you told me that my eyes held the galaxies
and you would forever be lost in mine.

So fill your mouth with different poems and different verses and different words
tell your new addiction how metaphors form from the curve of her lips
but you know it's my spit that rises at the back of your throat because you still long for the taste of my mouth on yours.

Quieten your mind and steady your heartbeat
Close your eyes and listen
The wind she howls
And lightning paints streaks across the skies
The mountains they tremble
And thunder she rolls
I am unafraid and yet, moved to tears
This life is an adventure in your abode
You my Earth,
I am still
Deciphering your code.

I will hold you
gently at first
and then all at once
till you feel me
my weight upon you
my arms around you
pulling you in
crushing on you
like the dew as it sits heavy upon blades of grass
and before dawn I will leave you
with nothing but a moist souvenir from my lips
a kiss farewell
before the morning light.

Find me
in a place not too far away
where dreams float
and the stars dance in a velvet galaxy
where my wings may unfold
and I will soar
upon a tempest of hope.

I implore your good self
would you walk away right now
before we go too far?

Before your whispers become tangled up in my sheets
and your heartbeat becomes the soundtrack of my dreams
because when you’re gone, my bed will feel like a tomb
where I sleep with your ghost
and your eyes will be all I see
like an after image of the sun when I close my eyes.

would you leave if I begged you to
would you walk away
and take your heart, your kiss, your smile
would you leave right now
because it’s already too late.

Sepia tints an old photograph
that I’d forgotten I took
in it we were holding hands,
smiling like fools
as our Blind Fingers danced a pirouette
gracefully, nonchalant
I remember your eyes as they idly traced
the outlines of my face
and how your tongue was like the ocean
and my lips the shores it died upon.

The ways of love are strange indeed
like a winding river
passing through moments of passion
and fits of rage
caressing our souls
we chase the demons away.

But that was then
and as elusive as dreams
when morning comes
all is forgot
like a teardrop in the rain
or a ghost in the heart,
we stare into emptiness
that of beauty adorning sightless statues.