To see you cast down those eyes

pennies sinking in a well

searching for hope's desired wish
or forlorn in regret

as they fell.

Once,
gentle winds navigated our craft
safely through
the turbulent waters of life.
Then you set sail
to voyage a separate course.
And my heart
capsized
in the wake
of your passing love.

We are a zoo
there are many animals
housed within
some are protected
by our prison
some pace frantically
clawing for freedom
some are timid
and keep themselves hidden
sometimes they battle for dominance
sometimes they're peaceful sometimes they're driven to violence
sometimes they're docile
sometimes they're irrational
sometimes they take over
our wild animals are all
emotional.

Weather-beaten
crippled by season after season
cast iron hearts are tough yet brittle prone to shattering and erosion
by lover after lover

You don't miss the water untill the well runs dry,
sometimes I miss the well.

They looked on
avoiding
the beggers' mantra plea for change.
Too little
to give
that it didn't seem fair
to give
just to one.
With shame
he too
looked on.

Didn't mean to rip the picture, but we were so mad at us ...no, so scared
and sad.
Didn't mean to shout, but we were yelling at us...no, primal scream
this shouldn't be happening.
Didn't mean to use those words, but we were being mean to us...no frustrated
and losing touch.
Didn't mean to walk away, but we forced us...no refused to be pushed
to proud because we trusted
in us.
Didn't mean to take so long to apologise, but we needed space from us....no, time to readjust
see how we felt away from us.
Didn't mean a thing to be only me and you...no, we need to be us
confessed it is true

Wander where the coldness resides went I.
An alabi to excuse short comings: remaining pride.
Bittersweet freedom when it dies, to forsake the lies covering shame.
We give it a name: must explain.
To make it easier on ouselves like memories dwelling like dust upon shelves like fading footsteps on the shore like internet like stained knees from the fall or ignorance.
When it doesn't make sense and you have nobody to ask but yourself...is this what you get?

Petals wilt
wither desert dry
stem stalks snap and topple
crumble to dust
they lie.
But do not decay.
When graveside flowers die
their essence transcend
to heavens high
a bounty floral bouquet
with love
for those who past away.

When you be busy getting
to where you want to be going
don't be neglecting
the path you're now roaming
or before you know
it your now will be stolen,
other paths will go unknown,
other mysteries will never be shown,
other yous will never be grown.
And when you arrive you could be regretting
what's the good things you have now
when you get to where you be going.

scrolled shavings
feather light
take flight
captured on breeze
in graceful fall.
skinned by deft hand
working the blade
whittling dormant shapes
made awake
with each stroke
of sharp edge
upon wood.
I'd watch his rough
hands move
with an unassumed dexterity and gentleness
born from experience
of one gifted in perceiving the form hidden from all eyes
but his.
This time bringing to life
a song thrush resting on a rock.

Winds howl
an accumulation of snatched words
none heard falling from shattered mouths.

Shadows stretch
toppled promises never kept,
wishes left to wilt,
dissipated dreams.

Chills creep
verglass eyes
red rimmed
the distant stare.

Night gulps loneliness
deeper than
the vacant swallow
between stars.

The wind's blustery paw mauled the night
rattling slack shutters and
shuddering corrugated roofs
like small change.
Sodden leaves congregated
in walled corner pockets,
praying for a last crack at dryness
and the playful kick and crunch of kids' feet.
Stray tomcat slunk
beneath
an s.u.v.
cowering at the naked trees
whose limbs fumbled drunkenly.
Not quite Munch's infinite scream,
but the closest thing I want to see
this night.

Four o'clock
dusk is sinking
shadows eagerly waiting
to usurp the day
Winter's germinating
chilly roots burrowing
deep
to the bone
will children reap
the harvest of snow
will its pale smothering
conceal broken homes
as the bitterness
silently
grows  or
rekindle the warmth of hearts
that froze?

Heavy eyes
but light hearts keep them open,
late night
early morning
not wanting
to miss a beat of every moment.
Then a kiss untill the next calling
taking time wistfully strolling
walking the colours into the day
as the night gradually fades
like the distance of two bodies giving way.
Though dreary there's an energy
wanting to keep dreams at bay
and savour every touch
and word you may say.

Wonder I sadly
the wish of the sun
for a shadow or
somewhere dark enough
to dream.

Woosie Tuesday
dreary blues day
head melted like a clock by Dali.
Willing time to quicken
but it's a
chained frantic junkyard dog: going nowhere beyond where it should.
Blustery Tuesday
frustratingly slow day
error ridden and awkwardly dragging sideways.
Been dotting t-s, crossing i-s
confused by afterthoughts
and should've saids.
Some days were made for beds

A picture may paint a thousand words, but a word can communicate a thousand images.

An oasis beyond a mirage,
a diamond beneath broken glass
some questions beg to be asked
is this worth persuing?

A rainbow at the tailend of a storm
a winning answer when all others were wrong.
Some roads take too long
is this one worth persuing?

An honest opinion among a nest of lies.
A truthful glimpse of what's behind the disguise.
Dwindling hope in why I should try.
Is this thing worth persuing?

A gentle landing after a turbulent fall
a pulse of love when your exhausted from it all.
Can we break through or do we hit a wall
Are we worth persuing?

The memory came as sure as night’s silence
between the hours
when sane people sleep
and the flush of dawn was yet to be considered.
Fleeting memory on the peripherals
the distinctive recall like a snuffed candle’s scent when no candle can be seen.
For what purpose does it still serve?
The sharp ache of it has long since faded
to a dull throb,
and then only when you try to clutch it
and face it.
scrutinize it once again.  
The memory mellows with a faint aftertaste of oak aged whiskey from a tumbler long dry in the depths of advancing echoes
from its footsteps
from its footsteps
from its footsteps

You're wearing me out with your indifference
like a pair of boots walking long distance.
No matter which route I take
I never seem to reach your heart.

Tried travelling down other paths,
but it don't take long before
I have to turn back.
My only destination is wherever you're at..
But you get further and further away.