and on my breath
i feel his talkative
and in my heart
feel his words so beautifuly evocative
and in my mind feel his wonderful
and whats so forbidden is so beautiful
if only all the stupid fools knew
they would all feel so wonderful too

watch gray inking night
turn to amber
like a special ink upon
some mysterious blotting paper
and the same state as previous
of profound emotional turmoil
thunders within my heart
what cause is this
that has so overwhelmed me
what sorcery is it that binds me to tears
that blink through wet stained eyelashes
and wash upon my face in tumbling droplets
form a recreation of heightened moments
of my consciousness the weightlessness of inner thought
It makes me know the winds speech
realise the attempted elimination of identity
and I try desperately to hide
from the gargoyles that now stalk me through the streets
and smell their black breath hanging in the air
like some kind of numbing intoxicant mist
and I try to resolve the enigma that is the core of my being
that which contains the esoteric voice of the wind
in rapacious resoundements of remembrance
that cannot be recalled to mind

there is a seperation

a pain of seperation

such as a seperation

that only lovers specialise in

where the prevention of thought

is like a fortress overrun

where trampling terrains of concern

stampede upon the praire of the mind

transforming it into a soft savanna

of wating engagements

that murmer with comforing enchantments

lays upon such pain of seperation

as that of a perforated scar

seared across the heart

bringing tickles of soft warm tears

to the cheeks

the happist time becomes

a chasm only conquerd

by that gulping unification

of embrace

where soft burning lips

meet in that unknown

but express language

of clasped reunion

it is that pain, that awful pain

that only lovers know

Silvine Blockster

had a book

which it seems

everywhere he took

and thus as is

always the case

as when such books

are ferried in open space

it was not unusual

for folk to ask

if they could look

inside Silvines Blokcsters book

But upon not such uncivil pleas

he would become incenced

and wobble most peculiarly

at the knees

rant and even rave

shout and squeal

but he never would reveal

the pages of the books appeal

so once upon a dark and dreary night

when Mr Poe was real and truly out of sight

some citizens upon themselves they took

a vow to knock Silvine Blockster on the head

and steal his precious book

but alas dear reader

the blow they cast

caused poor Silvine Blockster

to breath his last

all fled in panic but one

who stayed fast

and stood there to the very last

he took a furtive look

inside the book

his knees buckled

his face turned white

and from head to toe

was filled with fright

but the book

he could not let go

this brought a smile to Mr Poe

who was not there

as well you know

now Mr Rephil Pad had a book

which it seems

everywhere he took

and when citizens

begged to take a look

his face whould turn green

and he would puke

and dear reader

please beware

for I do not mean to scare

if you encounter

Mr Rephil Pad

under no circumstnce

ask to look

inside his book

or enter into confederation

with those, who for just one peek

would crack his skull

and watch blood leak

for upon this crinkled parchement

fited and forgotten ink

tells of a curse

of which you must not think

a death note

you must not read

on this very subject

Mr Poe and I and of course the Raven

on this subject are all agreed

a yellow leaved flower
with a black mustache
and a very peculiar hat
well perhaps no to the flower
for it is after all on its head
then again the yellow leaved flower
may find the hat funny and well, most peculiar
and thus sports it in defiance of convention
for yellow leaved flowers it seems
are by law forbidden to wear hats
peculiar or otherwise.
how strange

a white pinked pettled flower
that looks much like
a flying duck in destress
is a friend to the yellow leaved flower
though to be sure does not wear a hat
either by choice or design but by decree
because there are terrible anti-hat laws
directed at flowrers, who to some
though not to me, maybe of an oddity
for I am of a mind to believe
if flowers wish to wear hats
by all means they should be permitted to do so
so let them deal with me as they will
for I do not fear them
flower hats and for-get-me-nots
shall be are call

by god something has taken control of my mind
for it is no longer mine
what do I do
ha! ha! ha!
I am overrun with joy and sadness
at the same time
what does it mean
whatd does one do