I'm unable to label
myself as thus
as I only play
in their garden
and as such

I am untitled

I am none of the above

But if I wanted to be
*I could be all

I'm a size 14
European
I don't know what that is
in American
it's not a zero I think..
It's probably a cross between
overly skinny
bordering on chunky
not fit to be seen
in tank top and shorts
but when it's hot, it's hot
I'm not attractive
but cool
but I'm not lean
too many temptations
too many treats
I've never walked a mile
in another's shoes
I've never made it
to the end of the street
because my three children
throughly used me
abused my body
and then abruptly left me
I'm not so undesirous
that their Father turned away
In fact, to him
I'm curvelicious
and I don't even care
if that's a word
or not
I'm a big girl
I'm healthy
I'm loved
by a lot more people
than the anorexic girl
who snarled at me
when she wanted my man
but he was happy to stay
with the body that loved him
night and day

you weep upon a mound of dirt
pretending I'm beneath the earth
but I'm the bird upon the sky
the brightly colored butterfly
the flower that blooms through the crack
all the regrets that you'll never get back
I'm the rainbow that never ends
the forgiving heart that always bends
the light in the middle of the night
I'm the monster under your bed
the one inside your head
that will make everything all right
I'm not dead
I'm just gone
you weep over an empty grave
it's not goodbye
just... so long

I have very little time for me
5.30am I wake, so I can read
6am I'm waking school children
6.30am I'm making lunches
and waking them again
7am I'm ready and waking them again
in between, I try to read...
3pm, after work, I've picked them up,
home again, I have no luck
I'm reading homework, doing washing,
cooking dinner while they sit watching
asking questions, demanding my time
showing me answers, I can't say Nien!
at the time they are ready for quiet
I'm deep into my own bottle of Claret!
I've exhausted topics from
Logistics to get to the Fete,
and simple dress changes
that relate, if acceptable for camp?
and can my girlfriend stay
just for a night?
Mum! Look at me dance?
Have I got it tight?
I'm tapping away trying express
my own thought
then comes a little voice
that breaks down my fort...
And I realise,
I can't tap out a rhyme
the could ever compete
to the little dancing feet
that demands my attention
no less than your poem
but rest assured
as you have written it
I've read it, I just thought
*you should know

The trails of woe and agony
are not new to me
because every step you've taken
I've taken too, as I I follow you
and when you're  down and out
it's my hand on your chest
checking your heart beat
pressing against you to ensure
your not alone
But your last bout of indecision
lasted more than a week
Your withdrawal from the daily
works, retreating to places
where you could not speak
left us all to go on our way
Living day by day without
your presence, without your
Love, without acknowledgement
We moved on
I know rising from a coma
can be, simply, an astounding feat
but those that you try to engage with
have moved their feet, everyday
You can't just arise and say
Hear me!
For your silence every day previous
left us impervious to hurt
Perhaps a gentle reminder
we were not forgotten in your
delirium would better serve
You were never forgotten,
for a single moment
But to you, in your mind
*We were...

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 never wanted nature
to represent hope
or the Sun or the Moon
to become my home
I never wanted the stars
that fill the night sky
to interrupt my empty thoughts
as I sat idilly by
I never wanted humanity
to slip beneath my skin
or the birds in the trees
to remind me
that I too, could fly
if I only had wings
I never wanted to pass
the couple on the street
and see their linked hands
and just understand
that's always never going
to be me
I never wanted to shout out
with another's smoke scratched
voice
but apparently
it's not a
choice

There is the iron gate.
It’s ornate.
A work of art.
Not really a deterrent to anyone that yearns to be beyond it.
It’s just a gate.
But it’s the start of the journey that will begin at the long driveway that holds us apart.
But it’s just a gate.
It’s pretty but it won’t hold me back.
It’s just another barrier to your heart.

The large mahogany doors that stand closed to me are just that.
Closed
But not for long.
Open for me, I can hear you singing our song
Open!
Bring me into your outer world.
It won’t be long.

The marble foyer is cold.

The chandelier?

Bold!

The emptiness is a blessing in disguise. I know you are watching
I can feel your eyes, upon me, a gentle caress upon my inviting skin.
You don’t fool me,
I can feel your sin.
Please, you invited me in.

The hallway is cold and dark, the cold of the rooms that are left and right of me is stark.
There is no fire burning in these outer rooms. No life for me to wonder about and yet, I’m here, wandering aimlessly in these empty halls, and the echo of my lonely moan is projected back to me on an angry shout.

Where could you be about?

I’m drifting past the library that is filled with your intelligence
And past the solar filled with unearthly blooms that drown me in their fragrance
But there is no other sign of life
I walk the raw edge of madness upon a finally honed knife
Madness is gladly pressing upon me and its pungent aroma is rife

But I’ll continue to glide toward an essence that is pure
Because it calls out to me.
Waiting.
Wanting.
Listening.
Asking.
Wanting to know that what is coming is sure.

Down barren hallways and steps of stone.
I’ve traveled them all.
I did it alone
Across a landscape that was draped in a colored shroud
I stepped into a chamber that was devoid of all sound.

I’m here

You’re there in front of the fire
Surrounded by nothing, you stare at the flames that reflects back all your ire.
Your mirth, your understanding, your passiveness is greedily eaten by the hungry lick of a relentless flame
But as I glide silently to your side and cast a mercurial look at the hearth, I watch the roaring fire become soothing warmth and know that I have gained your inner sanctum and your life will never be the same.

Douse the fire in the cold hard hearth

*I will forever be your flame

I'm no different from you
I bleed the same red
I cry the same silver tears
That you are able to shed

I applaud you, as a Man
To be able to recognise
That I am able to achieve
any goal that is in your eyes

This is not a day I will celebrate
although it's a day I will acknowledge
It's a day that is insignificant
to women that hold knowledge

We know we had to fight you
Nearly 100 years ago
They were days we were beaten down
But it's not the same, no more

We now have equal rights, equal say
equal pay and equal do
I guess what I want to say to Men
is Thank You

Thank you for your recognition
but we don't need a seperate day
What we truly need in this world
is a harmonious repartee

Like

How are you today?
Why Sir I'm doing fine!
Thank you for the open door.
The pleasure is all mine

Would you like a seat?
No thank you I'm off at the next stop!
Are you in need off assistance?
(without fear I'll drag you off!)

Women just want to feel safe!
Gentleman, if you could just reflect
We don't want a Day of recognition
Just for you to teach your Sons respect

I hate digital alarm clocks.

The eerie way they light a room in the deep of night and that silent way they have of counting down the hours of life left.

It just leaves me exhausted!

At 12.47am I woke to a flickering red haze across my bedroom ceiling that seemed to spread like a stain down the walls to pool on the floor.
Now, I know I should not be reading Amityville Horror in bed, on a full stomach and I’m pretty sure that the block of chocolate that I snacked on while reading may have upped the ante in the endorphin stakes but combined with that evil digital alarm clock I was wide awake at 12.47am and the curtains at the open window were flickering across the harsh red numbers.

The oddest scene was playing around me, like a bad play where all the actors rolled around in a vat of blood before they stepped up.

Kratos and Ares, in full battle regalia where crossing swords with a ferocity of a westerly wind fleeing from Zephyrus himself. The clang of steel was loud in my head and beat a pulse behind my eyes that watched them move around the end of the bed and along the wall along side of me.

The breeze slithering through the trees and through my open window bought whispered entreaties to my ears…

“She mine Ares! I saw her first, I will have her. She is my Yin! I will possess my other half!”

Clang, clang, grunt, clang

“Kratos, you do not know me well to think that I will not fight for the one that can stand with the God of War! I will have her”

Clang, ******, parry, clang

Now, this is where I got really confused.

I was starting to think that the red haze fluttering around the room was from my bleeding eyes because it was now 4.27am and more than 3 hours of my life were gone.

How was I supposed to get that back?

I was idyllically pondering what a Yin was while being gobsmacked by the fact that I was actually the other half of something. But being the other half of Strength?

What does that make me?

Weakness?

What would my Greek name be?

Profligatus?

But that didn’t concern me more than what Ares wanted with me? How strong did he think I was? Sure, I’m a bit prickly at times but for the God of War to focus on me? ****, and I thought I had curbed my enthusiastic condemnation of humanity… Obviously I had not!

But who am I kidding! It was really very nice to have them fighting over me. I’m not really sure who drew first blood (because of the ****** evil digital alarm clock glow) but I’m sure I would have swooned into whomevers arms reached down to claim me had it not been for the sound of the evacuation alarm.

ER ER ER ER ER ER ER ER*

****, ****, ****, the sun has crept over the horizon and has lightened the darkened theater that is my bedroom and it’s the alarm clock that is shrieking a warning that it’s time to start a new day.

****! I’m not ready for this. I’m tired, I want more dreaming, or awakening, or whatever the hell that was!

Most of all I want to know…

What did it all mean?

not so
without sound
there is a heartbeat
a gentle sniff
a scream
a hauntingly beautiful
song
a voice carrying
a burden
a body bent
standing strong
an unhappy heart
that bleeds
upon paradise
rearranging
circumstance
to justifiably
and painfully
try to arguably
lay down beside
What Is Wrong

We tend to lick our wounds
in the quiet of the night
when we think others
are sleeping
We stay awake
to protect them
from our own fright

We sit beneath one sided glass
so we can't see our own
reflection
and pretend we care so deep
as we are buried
beneath our defection

In the quiet
without the light
shining on our
imperfection
Gold and Silver
have no worth
as dull as Copper
and Nickel
ten times less
Precious
infinitely more
worth
than the babble of
the day to day
that's infects my ears
In the quiet
of the night
your precious voice
rises
The only song
my heart hears

Even if I never
write another piece
of my garbage that I call
Poetry
I'm still a reader of such
and stagnant pieces
are just a *******
for contemptuous lust
and soul *******
forms part of the Universe
as such
I absolutely refuse
to read something
Untitled

It ***** me completely
that you can sit down
and completely unload
Emotions uncontainable
Not just on a page
Ink veins open and dripping
but by making your fingers move
making your brain communicate
with extremities can be
exhausting
and still you lay bare
-
all your nakedness
and angst
and your happiness
wrapped inside sadness

and refuse it a name?

What?

You think after you've aired
all your ***** laundry,
hung your intestines
out to dry, as you stitch together
the cavity that once held your heart
It's okay to simply expel your breath
take a look at what you wrote
and call it Art?
Even though its nameless?

I call it irresponsible
to that which you gave birth
and left it rotting in the ether
with no title to ground it to earth

I didn't see it there!

the kitchen chair

You hit me in the living room

where there was so much space

a solid lounge

a coffee table made from oak

a television cabinet

protecting life's assets

but you hurled me

into the kitchen

with just one stroke

and I rolled laughing

until I hit the chair

that splintered fine pieces

of rough hewn stakes

into the air

that fell around me

like a cage

I didn't want to escape

but when a spine is broken

the only sound to make

is

a

sigh

It was a nice day to die

I said

Come on! It's time to go to bed. Let us not be wandering through the internet right now listening to 80's songs that seemed right, oh say, 20 years ago. We can't be doing this! I'm tired, take me to bed, put me to rest!

then
I said

*******! Get the **** outta my head! Why do you bother me with your prissy little frilly consciousness then berate me with sleeplessness when I try to accommodate your whiny **** and actually go to bed! You torment me with images of that would be dead to me if you just let me load myself up but, no! You insist that I get myself up... and go... to bed... I'd rather sleep when I'm dead!

then
I said

Well what's the point of hanging around inside brain dead cyberspace keeping me thinking that I'm never going to keep up the pace and while your kissing PaULO4FuN do you stop to think that perhaps I may be done? Do you not feel that burning behind your eyes? The impaired vision is my doing! I'm trying to hinder you by disguise.... Come On!!!! I'm tired.....

so
I said

Really? Is that you doing that? Then why the HELL do I pay $12 per bottle of wine which I consume by the vat? And if you're so almighty as to be able to provide such a welcoming buzz why do you feel the need to hammer me while I'm trying to drift, cocooned, in a nice warm fuzz?

sigh
I said

Please, believe me, I say this with all honesty, your nothing but a drunken piece of lint that would not like to be picked out of a belly button on a good day but you're all I've got, and until you pass out I continue to see the rest of the world as just one great big inkblot... Go to ******* bed... for the love of Satan.... Please!

I said

I'm going already. Keep your shirt on

I said

Good! but I'll believe it when your gone

I said

Nasty *****, I better sleep well tonight

I said*

Drunken cow... if you make it to bed, I'll make it right

*I can only trust me...

Far off shores are memories
inside the hull of a leaking boat
I've seen the victories of freedom
in the pamphlet where they promote
Opportunity for everyone
even someone like me
but they don't show the lonliness
of being far out to sea, in the dark
raging to be free

I've spent a thousand lifetimes
being  small in a place of awe
I've covered all my bruises
with a sense of propriety
and I'm pretty sure
that you won't see them
unless you read between the lines
Words are just a jumble of characters
that won't make sense
unless they're mine

Ive been in love with losers
and in lust with absolute rakes
My heart has broken a time or two
I've endured whatever it takes
to find my happy ending
and to make words of common sense
unless the end of everything begins with
if only I looked over the fence

I've been in love
I've been abused
I've been abandoned
I've been used

I found forever
I found the road
I lost my best friend
I never went home

I got what I was looking for
when it was least expected
I walked away from a mistake
before I became infected

I endured all the emotion,
absorbed whatever it took
With a sigh, I shut my eyes
and close the book

I sneak inside your mind
and tiptoe amongst
the broken glass
skirting around
disassociated thoughts
watching arguments
you thought you lost
sitting in the bleachers
of the upper reaches
of your subconsciousness

I find
I'm not the only spectator
that dwells within
your mind

you sit next to me
****** bare feet
you whisper softly
you're in for a treat

See that white knight
upon that fiery steed
that's you
waiting, for me

Waiting for the battle
sitting so calm
here I come
upon the darkest horse
ready to do you harm

I sat quietly in the stands
of your twisted tournament
holding onto your hand
waiting for spears to rend
skin from flesh
tear flesh from bone
waiting for blood to pour
from an empty wound

but the white knight
did not advance
just sat quietly
in saddle
waiting for a chance
for the black knight
to fall, stricken by
a ghostly lance
It was the white knights
chance, to catch him
as he tumbled
and fell

and there I dwell
inside your mind
you tumbled and fell
*I caught you in time

I Stopped to Pick a Flower

I saw today, a little Mayflower
blooming from the broken ground
born from a dry earth and dry eyes
It grew there without a sound

I stopped to smell, and maybe touch,
it's dewy visage was a delight
I saw today a little Mayflower
that had grown throughout the night

I'm sure I've said it a thousand times
Life comes with no guarantees
Don't weep for me, for the lesson you see, is I am that little Mayflower

there was a time when everything
was important
things that were huge, ginormous,
in proportion,
importantly huge..

then there was the little things...
like the walks in the summer rain
where you never cared that I was wearing
my best dress, you preferred me naked anyway
Dinner at Antonios,
getting caught in the snow
I didn't have gloves to warm my hands
you didn't either so you tucked me inside
your jacket and held my frozen fingers
to your chest, I didn't protest
but you told the passerby's that we were
conjoined
and when we were caught on the train
without a ticket you closed your eyes
and I lost my voice and confusion reigned
We walked home for miles after being evicted
you couldn't stop looking at me
and I couldn't hold my tongue
Then you left...
just upped, to walk another path
one you said you swore an oath to
but solitary a road still
but you may come back for me
but it doesn't matter, you see
Everything that was important
is no more
and everything you taught me
about Love
doesn't matter anymore
because you aren't here
to share the unimportant moments
with me

The end of the world,
it just exploded!

With a smattering of light brimstone and fire and a gentle, heavenly rain.  It just started, while I stood in the kitchen, sipping tea, trying to remember my shopping list and wondering if I should even bother, to get ready for work, could I just fake it and gain another day where I could wallow? I weighted my earning ability against what a simple day, for me, would be able to gain.
It was just another day...
One that started the same as every other one, but proceeded to bleed, only to leave a stain…
Oh great, (my first thought)
just another laundry duty for me…

But I digress…

Oh yes, that’s right, I’m drinking my tea, my daughter in front of me… she starts talking, her lips are moving but her words are dissolving my existence that surrounds me...

Where was I?

Yes, there was a big explosion, the world rocked and I’m ambivalent as the earth cracks beneath me and all I can see is a world that has been shaken to its core.
My kitchen fades away… (where the hell is my cup of tea????)

I’m in the middle of the street, the people that I meet are screaming because they also felt it. That explosion that rocked their world that opened the cracks in the earth to release the fire and brimstone. Ugh, the smell of sulpher! I briefly wondered if I would ever get the smell out of our pretty, outdated, papered walls?

Again, I digress…

I’m floating above the cracks watching as humankind drops to their knees, begging their chosen Deity to save them as the fires of Hell wrap tendrils of Regret around the ankles of those that have been Chosen while a really bright light lifts those from their knees, to ascend to Nirvana, I guess they are the ones who prayed really hard… Bully for them! I guess the others should not have weaved when they should have woven!
Not me though!

I’m still floating, in between, as the world ruptures I’m still just hanging, caught between up above and down below. I don’t know if it is because, it is so obvious, Heaven will never let me in and Hell has already said Not just No… but… HELL NO!

But I digress…

What I’m completely fascinated by is that at the End of the World I’m wholly focused on the boy that is fair of hair and fair of face and appears to be full of Grace and while I thought he would ascend, he is grabbed by a lick of fire from Hell.
I’m completely fascinated, that such a nice boy, would be chosen to descend below (I honestly would have pegged him for Heaven) but I can only **** my head, and pretend I don’t see...
Honestly… what do I know?

I’m watching the World fall apart!

Explosions, fire and brimstone, completely lost souls trying to crawl into grace, it all happened to me, while drinking my tea, while my daughter stood talking to me…

What is she saying?

I’m back to standing in my kitchen, cup of tea in my hand and I actually hear the words that my daughter is saying to me and it all goes back to where it began…

So Mum, there is this boy….

Oh God! There it is…

And there is another explosion… again!

Dec 1, 2010

how I can taste rain
and feel colours
or fake a smile
when I feel pain

how I juggle chances
and question silence
or how I can sit a while
and scream for answers

how I can pretend
when the end is near
there is no hand holding
no one to hold dear

how all that I had
I'm reminded of at the end
and how I'm being forced
to begin again

Should I just walk away
or should I just pretend
that others will know the way
and I'll make it to the end
If. I. Follow. Them
Am I just a sheep
or representive of the people
do I bleet with power
or am I just a sheeple?
That minority that herds forward
seeking single blades of grass
to munch on arbitorial
swallowing questions not asked

How. Come. It. Cuts. Like. Glass?

am I misrepresented
by the shame of not being focused
missing the road to everlasting
Salvation

my ticket says I'm on a one way trip

to *Hell and Damnation

here in Australia
in less than an hour
it will be tomorrow
and I have to say
its looking ok
for those of you
lagging behind
Trust me, the world
is not ending tomorrow
but if you wouldn't mind

I understand there are
Dragons to be slayed!
Demons to be fought,
and extracurricular actives
to be played

But not for me :)
I'm sitting outside
on a padded bench
wishing for bed
but you don't play nicely
Hello Poetry
You **** me in
with friends who wake
as I want sleep

*Where is the fun in that?

the empty street mirrors
her gaze, while many feet
pass by her in a daze
her flat stomach is just
a simple illusion as she
fools others in her delusion
she kisses the air for the rent
of the back alley she haunts
tucking her curls behind ears
that ignore the taunts
the twenty rolled nicely
for her to breathe freedom
the fifty was a bonus
for three of them
two fifty dollar notes
sit squarely in her gaze
but the gun in her hand
means an end to her days

It's just not like that!

There is no script, no director screaming
Cut!
Now let's do it again
this time, with meaning?

There is no early warning of subterfuge
or lightly dropped, not so hidden clues
No instantly in 'five minutes' guessed plots
because all expectancy needs to fit
inside a predetermined time slot

There is no Boy meets Girl
Girl hates Boy
Boy doesn't understand why?
Boy realises on page 106
why Girl hates him
and spends 87 pages
delving within his own psyche
as he rides his motorbike
on the edge of Life

he will crash, most like

Ever wonder why sequels are never
"as good as the original"
Because questions were answered at the end
and everything that went unanswered
never begged the question

Of course, you say, it will never be
just like a book or a movie
or even those ******
'Made for Television' series
because each and every one
is just a captured moment in time

Depicting just one heartbeat
out of so many millions
that skittered out of line

Hi this is Helen. I can’t get to the phone right now
because, well, I think I’ve finally found sleep!
So leave me your name, your message is important to me.
Just wait for the beep

…………

Hi, it’s Darcy…. Ummm I’m sorry I had to cut and run
but, you see, I’m nearly 16 and well Mum…
I’ve got to go there is a big bad world out there
to explore. Mum, I love you more

…………

Hi, baby girl, it’s your Daddy and I’m really sorry
that I have to tell you over the phone that I’m
not going to be here in six months, you know,
the cancer, well it’s grown but that’s enough
about me. What beautiful sights in the world today
did you see? I love you

…………

Hi Helen, I’m sorry I missed your birthday yesterday
And being your best friend and all I should have been
there, but well, you see, there’s this guy and he’s
super special and if I’m not around him I know I’ll
just die, what do you think of me with him, what
should I do?…. Oh, Happy Birthday, I love you

…………

Helen, this is God and I’m umm, really sorry I
haven’t been around much to make you smile
I haven’t been ignoring you but admit it… You
haven’t talked to me in a while… What I’m trying
to say is that if you just give in and take the bitter
pill I’m trying to make you swallow then we could
maybe start again. Hey! I’ll just ring you tomorrow

…………

Talk to the face!

Erase

It doesn't Help... but it doesn't Hurt either...

I once got kicked out of the library
for moving all the Bibles
to the Fiction section
Not mentioning the time
I was escorted
from the casino
because I completely
misinterpreted the meaning
of the Craps table
whats up with that?
Then there was the time
I dumped a whole packet of cornflakes
in front of my blonde friend
and she still couldn’t make the picture
look like the one on the box....!
And I really shouldn't mention....
I once knocked upon the hatch
of an Irish submarine
I know, I know, a nasty trick!
And then there was the time
I put three shovels in the corner
And told my less than
smartest friend
to take her pick!
***!
I laughed so hard
as she started to go mad
and pull her own hair out!
And on the day
she sent me a text message
asking me what the hell
did *I D K mean?
When I replied with
I Don’t Know
I swear I heard her shriek
from a million miles away
even as my phone beeped
and the message read
*** NOBODY KNOWS!!!
I swear!
It’s the most delirious that I have been!
The hilarity that ensues
when you realize that
Ernie truly is nothing** without Bert
I know it doesn’t help
But I love how it doesn’t hurt!

There was only silence and a gentle breeze that caressed my hair and the slightly insubstantial ghostly figure that followed me but never tried to talk to me but just followed and looked, with a stare...

It was cold, it was dark in the middle of the day as the sun beat down through the thick trees and chased the shadows away while I traveled down the cracked and broken path and passed old Mrs Wilson 1827 ~ 1868 (almost ancient in those days)
It was Mr Wilson's heartbreak in the words of How Do I Live Without You? carved in stone that told me I was almost there

There you were, under the weeping willow tree.
I wasn’t sure how prophetic it was and I could never be sure if it wept for you, or for me.
The ground was brittle beneath my leaden feet but it never disguised each and every heart beat. It grew green beneath my head as I lay down and slowly wept my daily tears that seemed to be fed straight into the ground.

I always noticed the gray of the stones, the black of the night, the brown of the leaves and it always felt right.
I scented the death mixed with the hope of the lives left behind and I always noted the inexplicable sorrow of words carved in stone that were written to remind...

But I never once before noticed the butterflies

Today I did because they were everywhere.
They sat upon stone monuments that breathed in with sorrow and the butterflies seemed to care. They flitted inside the darkness to light the path home and glittered in the dappled sunlight that spilled between the branches and sparked happiness while they did idyllically roam.

It was the one that landed on my cheek as I stared into nothing and got it’s tiny feet trapped in my river of sorrow and sat quietly, eyes focused on mine, it’s emerald wings beating slowly back and forth and reminded me of a churning tide that would undulate with all of my tomorrow then sat still and watched me with a calmness that took my breath away and whispered inside my head...

Why do you live in yesterday?

I’m sorry my memories of you keep me tied to the past
and I feel the need to want to hold onto you
to make you more real and make more of everything last
I get it now and I promise I will try...

*Thank you for the butterfly...

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

never have I felt so morally trapped
never has my essence been so black
forever I can't look into that room
and be so happy with that
which I have mistaken for happiness

all the songs I have in my heart
have no voice to melodically say
all the music I have in my soul
have no fingers which it could play
all the words I have spill patiently
into a fountain of black and white
draining of reason and colour
to blend into one lonely night

never have I felt so certain (I'm sure...)
that I'm no longer any closer to the shore
as the butterflies gave way
to an ocean of jellyfish
and the trees in the horizon
are little more than just sticks

I'm ready to float into the universe
because beyond is what a soul sees
I will give up this existence
and let my master be the breeze

and hope that in the next life
I'm not trapped into something
that is as useless as a body
that learns nothing

You don't stand your ground!
Your feet never touch the earth
while you stand on the backs
of a thousand weeping girls
All thinking they were your first
All thinking they are your only
Never understanding your praise
was to your never ending, lonely
selfish, egotistical one handed being
eyes on the numbers, but never seeing.

So maniacal of Ego Deploration
your head is larger than any nation
A small country where you get lost
your glass house crumbling
beneath the frost of your Winter.

Every time you open your mouth
your absolute pretentiousness
finds a golden frame in truth
causing your ******* wall to splinter.