At fifteen I feel barricades

Under my feet

Erected in some

Despicable deceit



Yet I trod them down

And know my own defeat

Like those who wander

In their own conceit

Words move and dance

Like shimmering beams

I know all is not what it seems

For they move in such undelightful grace

I know not where or is their place

Then all at once as if by chance

Change their charismatic dance

Which has left me in such a trance

It continues in far advance of all

The things I can enhance and leaves

Me feeling in Wondrous Joy

Of that beautiful rhythmic Charville boy

this poem is an inch long in time

Words like thoughts stagger in my mind
A whirlpool and ask what can be revealed
In such a swirling displacement
The information of destruction
Proclaiming  a dark cobalt sky of dissolution
That commands and causes the chaos of despondency
Now there is a compunction of inexplicable attitudes
That vie with themselves to have a consequence
Of what is not nor never made clear
It is like truth or lies untold
It is sad like something profound unsaid….

A white abstract silence falls heavily like phosphorous snow… odd and oblique with nervous intensity of random limitations… sensitive and fragile in its unremitting generosity…A fluency of motion of imaginary realisation in silent turbulence descends in tenebrous shadows of illusion detonating the unconscious… the symmetry and exactitude of silence beyond all compass…. an intricate camouflage… meticulous and consistent.

Disinherited it tries to sanctify the air….. a silence in where stars evaporate vibrational loud and inquisitive…. freezing time by the velocity of its inner momentum of silent adrenalin.

Concealing its true identity isolating me in unknown realisation of what is to occur.. It resonates with constant tension waiting for unpredictability’s of indispensible voices that don’t speak….. This is a realisation of the imagination…. a vibrant insensibility…. density of unravelled thoughts that vaporise within me causing a vibration that fractures the equation of time and space in the burning crucible of my mind.

Intractable proportions of silent thought…. hovering… a constant mirage of irrational calculations….. This silence forces all the tears of consequence to fall upon my face with no avail…..Then in this thunderous silence see graffiti on white walls…abstract and meaningless….Like primitive lives…those with meaning yet possess no meaning… an ungovernable democracy of fruitless endeavour… of non factual fastidiousness… a glimpse of life and its fallacy.

Yet the words were spoken and written… by whom… And for why.. Now the silence punctuates and instructs…. phosphorous extinguishes itself and hides behind another truth…..The noise of the world cascades in torrents deafening… attempting to defeat… subordinate the senses in atavistic cruelty… Prowling searching for the silence… but it has gone…. disappeared in the imagination of my inner self…. an abstraction I call me….. But I know where the silence has gone….

With lips intoning

A litany of endearments

In a language I fully understood

One kiss, one kiss, one kiss

Conjured up all those remembered

windows of the soul softening the

Jagged edges of the world

Erasing the stultifying atmosphere

Of unmistakable applications of

Symbols that try to unmake thought

His kiss provoked new meaning

The glamorous sounding world

Of ideas; A bewildering emotion

One that could not be filled

In with a charcoal pencil

A sensual communication

Only he could deliver

Wonderfully ******

Oh! The memory of the moment

And lift the curtains

Of the fringe that

Framed his face and gaze

Deeper, deeper into those

Smiling eyes; in sensuous touch

Of naked sound

Taste mysterious pulses

Imprisoned yet unbound

Spangled light reflected all around

Then we made words that pierced

The ground while echoes of

Forgotten laughter fluttered

Like a thousand birds

One moment, this moment

This kiss, Oh! His kiss

Holding in its tender touch

                                                  The promise of a lifetime

As adolescent night falls
He drifts in my dreams
His harsh and angry words
Causing hardness
Leave Turin stencils on my sheets
The feared bruising of our lips
In geometry of circular mouths
Does not stop our history
Prompts navigation
Leaves pleasure un-distilled