Silent treatment
to silent screams
Pick a song
for me to interpret
and I'll play the game
but all the same
I'd prefer your mouth to open
and your words to spill out
from the hidden closet
where you hang your armour
Open up your armoire
and take your big boy ******* out
I don't usually allow
just anyone
to punish me, literally
but in the silence
the whip falls sharp
my silent screams
blend with the violin and harp
symphonicaly, it's a tragedy
emotionally it's a travesty
Physically a diversion
down the same old road
Ya are whatcha ya are
it's nice to know

Entrancing as the view is
It's like watching silent movies
Where overly painted faces
Gesticulate with solemn graces
Open to interpretation
Until the words appear
Surrounded by fanciful borders
Innocuously proclaiming
The weather is fine today, m'dear
And you laugh anyway
Because what they just said
Is not how it sounded in your head
Especially because how they are dressed
Lord forgive my misconstruing
a torrid expression so ambiguous
It eclipsed my ubiquitousness
I'm just trying to understand
From the arms that are flying
and the cheeks that are burning
Without the words inferring
If it will be a fine day today
or
If the world has finally stopped turning

I need the words to come first
Before the screen scene
Or else I'll laugh, when I should cry
To be misunderstood feels obscene

Big Mistake* can even barely describe how I let you goad me into coming back to your hovel and how you had to clear a path to your bedroom door all the while giving me such a goofy grin. Unfortunately (for me) your flat mate was passed out naked on the sofa with an empty long neck between their legs, snoring a sonata that would have made Frank Sinatra proud, I don't know how to describe the incredible feelings of vile that I experienced. Where do I begin?

I was so pleased to see the mattress on the floor in the corner of your bedroom that I just literally wet myself (don't mistake that for desire) and as you gently lowered me to the floor (honestly, who lives without bed frames) and I felt something crawl across my foot I fervently wished that we were higher. The drugs I took in the club are starting to wear off and I'm even more exacting sober (I wish I hadn't tucked into my handbag an extra pair of ******* and packed some antibacterial wash to take away what would be left over)

"Wait" I cried as your arms seemed to grow 3 extra hands and you tried so hard to get me even more naked than the day I was born. "Protection? Do you have it" and as you looked at me like I was an alien and an extra head I had just spawned, you went out the door on a prophylactic journey that I was sure (looking at your house mate) would last almost till the dawn.

I took the time to glance though your extensive collection of ******* that you didn't seem to feel that you needed to hide and took a chance of learning a thing or two, that you may like, and stacked them in a neat pile to the side. The sheets that floated on your love bed were just a little to crusty for my taste. I don't really want to lay on top of every other lover that you've had in the last year and quickly removed them with some haste (the mattress underneath was another matter) by then I'm starting to think that we should move to the couch and invite naked Mr Longneck to the party just so I don't have to lay down on something so crusty that at the slightest touch would probably shatter.

sigh I'm here now I say to myself 'Take a bow, you've certainly outdone yourself by raising the stakes so high that even a snake crawling on their belly couldn't miss' so I try to make the most of it and remove my shirt (leaving the bra... it's an imagination thing) and try to arrange myself seductively on my coat I laid on the mattress and await for the first heated kiss

You loom in the doorway with a smile that promises that the hunt was a success and lope towards me with a gait of a predator that is ready to eat a succulent meal that your not prepared to undress. One hand reaches out to skim the lace of my bra as your eyes scoot toward the organized pile of magazines in the corner and you spy Miss July on top from afar and in an instant in between a muted groan and a world that is rocked and only occupied by you alone, with just a ***** and one peep I'm left gobsmacked and your fast asleep!

Yes, I left a phone number,
No, it wasn't mine.
Please by all means, use it but try not to tie up LifeLine!
Jan 22

I’ll never love another* he inanely thinks as he flips through 112 channels with a remote that hardly ever leaves his hand and even though each and every program he lands on is a repeat (he never blinks) but he can lose himself inside a world of surreal and not try to face a world that is real. Please he pleads to the TV Just give a something, anything, to be make me free. Show me a world where I can be me He sighs as she walks into the room and sits down next to him and looks like she needs to say something but he doesn’t want her to begin…

I’ll never love another she tearfully thinks as she slips into the room and stands inside the doorway, quietly, watching her beautiful groom, flipping channels almost angrily, like he doesn’t care to watch what’s going on but is searching for frivolity. She sits down next to him and gives him a smile that is much too grim and slips her small delicate hand into his to grasp the remote control and slowly take it away from him so she can turn off the TV and make him face what is in her soul, she needs him to see the ultimate goal. She gently places the remote next to the empty cereal bowl.

Please don’t say it, please don’t please…. Don’t... He is reciting his litany that has been his personal prayer, his own mantra, over and over again because, ever since the cancer, she’s been distant and he doesn’t know how to close the gap. How can you ever get over a life that is cut short? What do you say? Why can’t people look at it differently? How come only one that is loved becomes “That poor sap” What’s up with that? She doesn’t know what he knows. All he knows is that he doesn’t want to hear what she has to say before she goes.

She’s sitting there silently; he’s holding his breath indefinitely. She looks him in the eye with a tear on her cheek, he feels it is now his turn to speak….

Rabbits! He bursts out loud
And she absently rubs her hand across her bald head
Yes she says, mostly embarrassed
I had them tattoo them on to my head
so from afar they look like hares instead…
I’m just so sick of not seeing the fun side of life

He fully sees what it has taken for her to come forward but there is no comforting her when he is stricken with his own strife. It’s time for him to go, she needs someone stronger. Someone who will comfort her in the hours that she needs and can give her some sort of life. She’s thinking that it is time to unburden the only person that ever understood why she chose to live and why it would be inevitable that she very quickly die and if he was anyone else she would not have gone to such lengths to make them understand but she always knew that he would want to know why.

How can she explain to him that no matter how much longer they had left together that it may be short, it may be long but time is irrelevant to a soul mate. It’s as easy for him to explain that there is a perfect reason to try to hide the pain but it seems almost impossible to escape even though there is a reason for haste.

One lets the other go to spare one another, such a waste...

Jan 25

Watched me
secretly
Forgot me
purposely

Met me
Harried me
Regretted me
Married me

Made me a Mother
Made me a Wife
Gave over all others
Gave me a life

Loves me in Happiness
Loves me in Anger
Loves me in a dress
Loves me naked, with Hunger

Counts me as a blessing
Counts me as a prize

Relies on me when stressing
Relies on me to tell no lies

Lays his head upon my lap
Lays his demons upon my sword
Lays his dreams upon my alter
Lays his problems outside the door

Sits in Silence at my tears
Sits grinning at my Triumph
Sits still in between the years
Sits complacently inside Love

My Valentine is not a day
not just one inside a year
He's everyday I live and breathe
He's the salt inside each tear
He's the foundation stone
of this Temple I call
My Life
My Valentine is
My Husband
and I am
His Wife

It's not the fact that
everytime I open Hello Poetry
I have to open a new tab
on my computer screen
to a dictionary
No Sirree

It's not the fact that
I come back to read them
Six, Seven, infinity times
and always wonder
Could that be me?
They are sooo easy
(of course it's me)

It's not the fact that
He makes me think thoughts
that should have been sleeping
throughout my whole human phase
bringing up ideas that are better left
when we are prepared to retire
to the stars, I think he's part Mage

It's not his witticism, completely admired
It's not his heroism, completely tried
It's not his ability to not be able to deflect
It's his ability to be able to unashamedly connect

But no one will ever hate you for that... if there is anyone here who can't understand the same, don't hate the player, hate the game

Playing strip poker
for money
Being naked and busted
is just NOT funny

A moonlight stroll
when your ready for bed
For those that don't wear pj's
Enough said

Playing Musical Chairs
using only stools
is for people with equilibrium
but funny as Hell for drunken fools

DIY Home Salon
Hair Coloring
Purple with Orange Highlights
clash with pretty much everything

Frying a meal
when your ready to retire
Again, sans pj's
your literally playing with fire

Body Waxing
ANYWHERE
especially
... down there ;-)

Digging deep in my despair

Empty eyes are watching me

Rabid vultures stop to stare

I’m digging deep to flee

Digging deep toward the fire

Sinking deeper into the pit

Skin flaming with manic desire

I’m digging deeper than I admit

Digging deep into fertile soil

Fading slowly as time warps

Clarity with distortion

The perfect foil

Finally I’m in deep enough

To bury your ****** corpse

You came to me
at an impressionable time
I was young and heart weary
some would have called it leary
of a kind face and a gentle word
I was not pretty or experienced
my facade a concrete palace
my body scarred with malice
No, I wasn't pretty, I never looked
to be sure
but told enough times,
so I heard
You rolled the dice
and came up with snake eyes
I wasn't surprised
I got lost in the world
but I never saw myself
You came to me
in my dreams, in my fantasies
reflected in the rain
on my window
and in tears of pain
collected in jars labeled Sorrow
you continually asked me
how I saw myself?
Truth denied, I just hide
I have never  seen myself so
how could I know?
All mirrors I have looked into
are just sheets of glass
showing me faces, staring at me
pointing and laughing and joking
and never once with any hint
of emotion
Like Love or Sincerity
or Acceptance
I just continually tend to expect
Less, you know?
because I've never seen how people
see me...
I've no reflection of me
just opinions, you see?
The ones that stand on the other side
of the glass and judge me
are my own eyes looking
straight through me
Then you came to me
standing in the bathroom
head down, pretending
the faces behind the glass
weren't mocking me for once
and you stood behind me
with a hand beneath my chin
and raised my face to the glass
and asked
Tell me what you see?
I saw your face, all angled grace
with glittering eyes
and winsome smile
and an expression that begged of me
to see what you see
then I looked into the mirror
and replied with aching truth
Between the furrowed lines
and scars of time
I see people laughing
taunting that you couldn't
possibly want me
I see...
Me
Everyday since I've held my head high
and looked at that sheet of glass
waiting to see your reflection behind me
and I ask myself
How could I see your eyes
looking at me, glittering
but when I search for my own
I only ever see
faces in glass, jeering me
but I never, ever ask the glass
Why I'm alone

golden beaches and apple martinis
waving palms glanced across the sun
turquoise waves stroked white sand
while she giggled at dolphins having
fun, dancing in the ocean, anticipating
the motion of the lithe body that moved
towards her from the east, silhouetted
against black silk. He moved toward her
with ease....
She walks out into the winters day and
forgets her gloves and hat and how to play
snow surrounds her non sequential to her
daydream but if stops to put on the extra layers
acknowledgement will bring forth her scream

*She's happy in the Sun

August started out like all the other months, there had been so many
The highs and lows of many seasons
saw my pockets spent of just a penny
Saw my recollections stacked to amount to rubble,  just prized as memories
And pieces of puzzles, ill fitted together, produced gaps within my psyche
Crossroads bring me to a full stop
I'm haunted by the ghosts that linger
Pointing this way and that way, back the way I came, demanding I stand

right here

But I've been down this road before

It's littered with the pieces of me that died, and became just carrion
But like a Phenix, burning deep inside
I flicked off the ash and moved on

Singing my Swan Song

and     I       cry

Your drugs don't let me sleep at night
Your love just leaves me cold
The road I took, just last lifetime
Left me broken and bitter old

Better luck I find, on an old but familiar road, I may have walked it all before
*But I left the story untold

Sprouting from a loamy soil
a small green leaf does toil
Working its way above the earth
Stretching out, to shake off dirt
Upon arrival, does the Sun
grant it Life, it has begun
Per single word, upon a page
it's gift to Man, belies its age
It bleeds upon parchment white
and dances in the pale moon light
as the world begins to mellow
so dies the parchment, turns to yellow
Here it comes, this digital age
where mathematical genius is Mage
Electricity feeds upon our brains
Riding currents with glittered reigns
Gifting of our temporal lobe
Emotions waiting to implode
Hark, the buzz of midnight writ
behind glass screens, magically lit
are words that are concretely bound
in empty ether, rooting for ground
Soothing are the songs of Soul
that find they're way from a hole
If nothing ever comes, but Hope
Our words are but a slippery *****

Yesterday, they said there would be a hurricane
but I didn't listen, yesterday
Today I needed supplies, food, nappies, formula
and I was out of time. I had to drive
So I set out into the dark, just me and the baby
we didn't have far to go, not far
Yesterday I wouldn't have picked up a stranger
in the street, 'cause yesterday
was when I learned my lesson
today he was slogging against the wind
and rain, with rags covering his feet
We ended up inside his space
where he carried my baby girl
and laid her next to the fireplace
and he took me down the stairs, by the hand
where he looked at me like he truly cared
and calmly chained me to the wall
where I stood tall, until I crumpled
I was never going to get out of there
All I wanted to do was feed my baby
All he wanted was my baby
I died nightly as he raised my little girl
I cried daily as I saw her become a woman
inside her completely undecided world
He bought many more women to himself
as I looked at him from the wall
hating every single breath that he took
He never noticed as I shook
while he bragged that his baby girl
was growing to be a Doctor of great repute
I just wanted to puke, she was becoming the person
I always thought she'd be, except for me...
She came to see me one day
my baby girl, lied to... standing there
She never really decided to accept what her
Daddy
had to say, as he gave to her tons of excuses
why she couldn't go below the stairs
but by then she was curious
and what she got when she was there
was me
her Mommy
in all my glory, even though I thought
she never saw me, but she got the story
and as he walked down the stairs
in the middle of the night
he didn't see her waiting
she waited for the fright
the look on his face said he did it
because he cared
but as a Doctor she didn't dare
pretend that he was slated to be long
for this world, because in her hand
where her fingers curled, was the injection
that would make sure that he kissed a long
Goodnight
he raised her with all his might
to be something I would have been proud of

*She made it right...

If I could just take it
and roll it into a little ball
and punt it in it's nether regions
I think I could actually find
something to like about the season

I don't want to see the big fat *******
all in Red, touching, smiling at my kids
I don't want to hear Christmas Carols
that never, ever, seem to leave my head

If the Christmas fairy
doesn't stay out of my sherry
I'm going to choke the *****
with the Christmas lights wires!

It's bad enough that she
puked all over the tree
Her decorating skills
leave a lot to be desired.

Why?
Why?
So much torture!
Misery is just buried
underneath a pile of
brightly coloured tinsel

Happiness seems to be manufactured
straight out of the world
of HALLMARK...
Instant joy!
It almost seems so simple!

All the baking, sweating, storing of food
in Tupperware that have mysteriously lost their lids

All the cheap items I lost on EBAY
to last minute sneaky bids

But for one tiny smile, from a child...

**I do it for my kids

is that even a word?
literaturely?
who cares really?
It is now, to me

I have oft complained
the seductive heat
of tar and ink
that has literaturely
clogged my veins
and in turn
gummed my brain
often touting screams
that proclaim
NOT SANE
is here to remain
but I was wrong?

When last I cut my wrists
the pain ran Red
and inside my head
I literaturely turned Blue
Who knew?
that all things unsaid
are put to bed
on a razors edge
cutting my soul in half
that never once
turned on you

I literaturely turned gray

I paled beneath dying embers
of forgotten burning fires
dulling as ash coated remnants
of long ago desires

I now step back
from the fray
I've had my weak
my day
and upon the hour
where the clock strikes
the 780th minute
13 leaves a sour
taste in my mouth

turning all good things South
swimming in blackness
in my new ruby red
bathing suit
that literaturely
turned white
I literaturely died
tonight

Now a mute
blood red in vane
I sit and stare
at the bones
of my soul
that remain
A ghastly caricature
of a misspent life
that can't negotiate
the road at the bend

I literaturely can
no longer
comprehend

I don't know what it's like to want to die
but I know what it's like to watch
I know what it's like glance at the hours
waiting,
it's like looking at a clock
that goes backwards and the cuckoo
that would normally come out to play
pokes it head out and announces
"There is no time today"

I don't know what it's like to wither
I know what it's like to cease in time
staring at the wall is fascinating for you
but all the same, I'm watching that wall
and waiting for you to be sane

I don't know how it feels for you
but how about how it feels for me?
I don't live inside your brain
but you don't exist in there,
independently

I don't know how it feels for you
I know how it feels to me
we both don't want to open the garage door
you see rafters that could make you fit
I see gone my forever more

I won't pretend I know how you feel
when you cry so inconsolably
If you don't ever try to forget
I was there, to dry your tears
the tissue shredded
by more than your fears
I don't know how it feels
but I do know what I see
*I ask you to see me

I light the gas
put on the kettle
You like tea, don't you?
I'm a coffe person actually
But you like tea
and I'm hopelessly lost
I'm grabbing things
from the refrigerator
left right and centre
What do you eat for breakfast?
I'm inhaling memories
drinking sensation
dining on your touch
not remembering much
Your form of sensual chloroform
is sensational
The kettles boiled
the cups are still empty
your touch on my lower back
is heavenly
I'm not sure
I'm where I need to be
the kitchen you say?
*Shall we?

So many small things occupy my mind

There are major revelations,
some minor hesitations and
some absolute truths
that just seem to get my back up
but only one truth.
It seems to circle around
and round
inside my tiny little brain
to come about to smack me
up the back of my head
trying to insinuate a sensibility
that I will always lack.

I heard the other day that you died.

It wasn't because fate intervened,

it wasn't the wrong place or wrong time...

You called the end to yourself...

The sadness I felt was not my pain at your demise
It was your pain, your ultimate decision
to decide that you were no longer worthy
to live, with a smile on your face, but with death
in your eyes.
You decided you could no longer live
beneath your disguise.

And we all thought it was ok that you went that way...

It was appropriate that you went out
in a blaze... be it of glory or opportunity
no matter how hard we tried to be disgusted
you, my friend, went your way.

So alright!

I know you didn't feel any pain
because you got what you wanted,
an end to the insurmountable mountains
less steps to climb, less breaths to take,
less mistakes to make, less truths to find

But tell me...

As you stand there in front of me, at the end of my bath
and watch me take the blade and make the cut,
do you laugh?
Do you mock me for my efforts to leave this world
of pain, do you pity me for my pretense or could you
sit for a moment and let me explain?

Could you sit for a moment and explain it to me?*

Because I don't want to be here, but I don't want to be there.
I don't think you are there,
to greet me
I don't think there would be anyone on the other side,
to meet me.
There would be no one to say
"Hey... welcome?"

There would be no looking beyond the scars,
there would be no hanging around the stars
shining brightly upon all that was left.
There would just be anger and unjustified angst
and a small amount of amusement, just enough
to leave the bereaved that little less bereft.

I think about you everyday, and the way you died
I think about it everyday and even though I tried
I've never been able to to be happy for you
because you were able to escape
I've always been angry with you
that you regretted all you gave
your wounds where so raw and your actions
never, ever seemed to take shape

I share your same helplessness but I can't cut
any deeper because I see your eyes in your
Son and Daughter

and in them I see you
in them I see Love
in them I see me
and what I can give

and I know that I can survive the pain
if I look into their eyes,
which beg me to live!

Sitting in bath water gone cold
like a body that has expelled a child
There is no life left in the womb
but the outer shell will live for a while

So, thank you for your visit
I'll be ok, *I'm alright
I'm stronger than emotions
that want to strangle me in the night

I know you died a painful death,
in the end you made it all wrong
please don't dance upon my empty grave
I think, just this one time
where you were weak
I'll be strong

May I have a slice, please? Plain would be fine...

a plain slice of happiness

no sir, I don't have Cancer or MS,
I'm not not a paraplegic or quadriplegic,
haven't served my country and lost limbs,

I'm nowhere near as heart sore as so many,
my plain pain is just -
plain but powerful
in a plainly powerful way

is it possible that
when I feel
that life has taken a nose dive
when it crashes,
I'd prefer to sink than swim?

is that ok?

hope so.

drown in molasses of every day,
try that an any age,
struggle with every decision made,
wrestle with forces that come
at you from every side of life...
wry smile, wry groan,
there is no explaining,
when you chose one thing over another
it is one that missed out
that,
of course was...

is my heart shattering,
my tiresome immobility,
lessened because it is
unseen on
the outward unbound,
leeward side?

is plain pain somehow
insufficient, lacking in
character?

the delirious mystery
of my thoughts
doesn't need spicing,
oregano or basil,
sympathy cards,
and tsk tsk cluckings....

but the steady erosion of exhaustion
weakens me in ways
that leaves me
asking, hoping,
for just
a plain slice of happiness

how can that cost so much?

I knew it was wrong
but if I stayed any longer
I would be lost
and my weakness
would just get stronger
So with just a small bag
that was lighter on my back
than the memories I left behind
with all the emotions I lack
I wandered down the road
with my thumb stuck in the air
I hoped that nobody stopped
while I fretted that nobody cared
Mile after mile my feet carried on
and with my heart beat slow
I stopped
just to breathe
as my feet sank into the snow
When the car pulled to a stop
next to me
it could have been yesterday
or tomorrow
I didn’t know
But I was grateful for the ride
but wary of the unknown face
that smiled at me across the miles
no malice could I find a trace
until the question came at me
after Beethoven's Second Symphony
became just a distant memory

My child, why do you run, in disgrace?
What is really your fear?

And as my hands clench the seat belt
trying to stop it from strangling me
and as I count the mile markers
that carve a mountain between you and me
I can't answer the question
that sits so insistently in my ear
The unknown face beside me whispers

*I’m not the stranger here

When I gave up, I pretty much just stopped, like two feet firmly planted into quicksand. I just stopped.
When I could no longer take a step, I just let my arms fall down to my side, fingers spread and just sighed.
Chin tucked to my chest, an even breath, then a scream that only echoed on the inside.
When I stopped screaming, I was still sinking and the crushing absence of movement made me bold. I struggled and I flailed but to no avail did I become free from the quicksands hold.
Within reach of my fingertips was a ghostly branch, from a tree that had weathered sicknesses untold. But still that tree reached out for me and as I took hold of it's ghastly brittle fingers, and even now in my mind it lingers, I took that tree out by the roots to sink in cahoots beside me, lingering in this quicksand.
I immediately apologised profusely to the tree that now sinks beside me.
The tree answered back, no, please it was I that lacked the fortitude to save thee.
Oh no! I thought, it was my troubled mind that led me to sink so deep, it was me who should weep quicksand tears for the tree who fell for me so blindly!
So me, and the tree, used each other, you see, one to stay afloat and the other to lay down finally,
to hold another up kindly.

The whys or where's
nor the for art thous
or the perhaps now
I know not
the love me nows
nor loved me then
or even the when
I know not
the cerulean sky
nor the indigo goodbye
or the softest sigh...
I know not
when words tried
nor when the rhythm died
or Poetry became a lie
I know not
the how's or wherefores
or keeping score
but
I know when
love of something
begins to end
bleeding from lacerations
bashed against rocks...
*I know then...

Wonderment
Holds me in thrall
Embraced in sweet delight
Never letting me fall

Innocence undreamed of in

A
Minefield of Love

Wickedly sensual thoughts  flow
Intensely wild and free
Touches that taste like candy
Heaven surely sent you to me

You dazzled me from the start
Offering to never depart and
Understanding my heart

You asked me if
I could remain?
I asked you if
you felt the same?
You asked me if
there was another?
I asked you if
it would be a bother?
You asked me if
you were a start?
I asked you if
you had a heart?
You asked me if
we had time, or space?
I asked you if
you knew the perfect place?
You asked me if
you could be my friend?
I asked you if
you were perfect at pretend?
You asked me if
We should just kiss goodnight?
I asked you if
you thought it would make it right?
You asked me if
things  could be different?
I told you
*Get bent

It was just three tiny words
that wreaked havoc such as
time immemorial seemed to have forgot
Innocuously sitting inside a dictionary
You pusillanimous pile of infected snot

There is no tampering with a raging universe
while trying to coerce a slippery fish
into a cage, such as a raging comet
But I was caught upon your fishing hook
You gelatinous mass of shark infested whale *****

Oh, I know, I wriggled a bit, I flipped
I flopped, but I was just kissing the hook
But you knew
You knew!
You heaving bucket of roadkill stew

Just three words!

You could have flung them at me
as you walked on down the road
You string of demon spittle
hacked upon the ground
then licked up by a toad

I’m going out...

Well, my friend
Not the three words I was looking for
Those words just soured on your breath
like rancid three day old meat
caught in teeth that are already bad

I KNOW WHERE SHE LIVES
(I whispered)

Then, I got really mad…
Jan 5

I was struggling with the demons
that sat on the bar stool
on the left, groping me

He was standing to the right
his arm around my shoulders
curling his long fingers in the hair
at the nape of my neck
while laughing at something
someone or other said

Then he glared at the demons on my left
and they just laughed
and continued to touch me
inappropriately
I hung my head in shame
roiling in the pain of my animosity

He tipped my face towards him
with one finger
angling my eyes away from the demons
with a smirk on his seriously kissable sensual lips
his face dipped to my upturned gaze
he laid his lips to mine

Then he bit
hard
rubies dripped to the ground
to lay at my feet
drip
      drip
            drip
precious stones that fell
at my feet
laying unwanted by even the demons
that had retreated

He licked the rubies from my lips
as sapphires shone from his eyes
turning to emeralds
glaring at the demons on my left
as diamonds drip
from my tightly clenched thighs

Owned
like a semi precious stone
unwanted like Silver
or
   Gold

Held onto for worth
but not really worth it

*I'll never forget

Tasting like a new spring day
So soft and moist with dew
A small lift, a tilting smile
Promises all dreams do come true
One small sip is never enough
One soft word demands one more
One light kiss from your whispering lips
Is to drift away from shore
Sometimes the mask will crack
I see what there is to hide
Your whispering lips are still so soft
Gentle words still lilt on the tide
But there is now a bitter after taste
From your softly whispering lips
Demanding words are spoken
Poison glinting on their tips
I willingly kept drinking your words
Poison flowing through my veins
Such ghastly death I might of deserved
Where your words are all that remain
The ultimate shocking betrayal
That also became my demise
Did not spill for your whispering lips
But bled from your lying eyes.

I didn’t live long
Or so it seemed
I laughed, I cried
I hoped, I dreamed
At Kensington Palace
I had tea with the Queen
And over in Scotland
Nessie and I made a scene
I flew over wild plains
On my way to Timbuktu
I took on Niagara Falls
In a canoe
I played with the bulls
In my time in Spain
And while in Africa
I saw the rain
In San Francisco
I roller bladed the slopes
To the Golden Gate Bridge
Where I swung on the ropes
I built a snowman
That was Himalayan
I slept under the stars
Amongst ruins that were Mayan
In New York to the lovely lady
I sent a smile and a wink
In Rome at the Vatican
It made me think
That while in Ireland
Oh the beauty I found
I never really felt
My feet touch the ground
I never left my hometown
Or so it seems
But I did live it all
In my dreams

05/03/2010

he empties his pockets
at the end of the day
she hates random
pieces of paper
in her washing
cleaning out the lint filter
mumbling to herself
shaking out the snow
of forgotten wishes
from her clean clothes

he can't say

that was the receipt
for the flowers I sent
or the lay by for something
simply fantastic,
regardless of what's spent

so he dutifully empties
his pockets each evening
before leaving
his clothes for cleaning
and then sits silently
holding onto
all of his dreams
from his pocket...
staring at receipts
of his attempt
to please
his woman, his wife
the love of his life

there is no snow
on his clothes
because each night
he remembers
to empty
his pocket
full of dreams
*and hope

Crashing Down

Crashing down
and the world has lost
another pilot

Crashing down
seems there's no way
to deny it

Crashing down
shredded wings become
a liability

Crashing down
blazing glory is
its legacy

Crashed and burned
charred beyond repair
a small piece of resistance
barely enough to care

Crashing down
the concrete layers
become so thin

Crashing down
amazed that players
can't admit their sin

Crashing down
amid flames that burn
oh so bright

Crashing down
knowing death already
claims the night

Crashed and burned
charred beyond repair
a small piece of resistance
barely enough to care

Crashing down
was the only way
to have survived

Crashing down
means flying high enough
to have tried

Crashed and burned
charred beyond repair
a small piece of resistance
barely enough to care

My mind stopped talking to me
about 6 weeks ago
So out of sheer loneliness
(and a little curiosity)
I started talking to my big toe

“Hey me old mate, how ya been?”

“Don’t old mate me
I haven’t seen you since
I don’t know when.
Oh, that’s right!
it was about the time
your big fat gut moved in!”

“Sorry I haven’t been around…”

“You’ve been ‘round alright
it’s actually a shape you wear well
but what do I know?
I’m kept in the dark most of the time
by the way, your shoes really smell!”

“But…”

“Oh No you didn’t
just bring **** into it
I know for a fact
they are just as mad at you,
and feeling the rejection
So is calf and knee and
elbow and poor little Pinkie toe too!
You no longer bother to have me rubbed
The only attention I get
is when you have me stubbed”

That was about when I stopped
talking to my big toe
It when on and on and on
Whinge, *****, whine!
Now I’m just lonely again
sigh
I really miss my mind