There were bugs in the whiskey
But he didn't care
His lover just left him
She left him to stare
At the wall in the bedroom
Where he spent the night
The setting he'd see when he replayed the fight
In his head in the morning
and every day after
the sound of the screaming and sharp callous laughter

There was blood in the water
One unfriendly drop
But once you star bleeding it's so hard to stop
The ships hull was shattered the life boat is bust
It's all so expected
Expected to rust
You're all on your own now
So swim to survive
Get to the shore where at least you're alive
But know when you get there
For better or not
That you'll sure be shore covered
When all goes to rot

There were bones in the graveyard
That's where they go
A ***** closed curtain for the end of the show
But that's for the lucky with money and love
Some get no protection below from above
They're cleaned up all lovely
And sparkling white
by the bugs
Who come crawling the very first night

These were thoughts in his head
As it spun round and round
The ships and the water
The blood and the ground
Then his mind snaps on back to the room and the wall
The glory of man and his heart wrenching fall
Then back to the bugs and their hunger and thirst
So he drank down the whiskey
So he'd get to them first.

I caught a glance from you within the crowd
and held with mine your eyes surprising long
if looks could be deemed so your eyes were loud
and so by seeing eyes I heard a song.

by this sweet music we two looked and danced
although we never touched or shared a word
oh, this is how the ancestors romanced
they looked and danced and loved to songs unheard.

This history commends you to the bone
so every step we dance moves all of me
and so the crowd might well leave us alone
for they are deaf that see not what I see.

Now senseless they insists it's senseless I
but they know naught that have not seen thy eye.

Your name last night alighted on my phone
and gave my nightstand luminescent pride
re-lighting torches that within me shone
to brightly once, consumed themselves, and died.

The embers of my love, mocked by this light
re-grow themselves to match their history
engulfing me in flames as though by right.
the cost? My cost. She burns up all of me.

Incineration forced my smouldering hand
to grab the blameful spark of my desire
and as I grabbed this coal, this too hot brand
the light went out, you left me with my fire.
    
       and so let lesser hearts be swan or dove,
       the Phoenix is the spirit of my love.

A lover's task: to give and no to take
To see in eyes what is a heart could need
to grow a garden with the love you make
to tend the place where you have planted seed.
Sweet flowers then will lovers cultivate,
or hardy crops withstanding summer rain
but every living thing runs out its date
the harvest of your love will bring you pain.
and so by days and years we sow our love
then reap a foreign feeling from the ground
this common ground, this dirt fed from above
has nothing left but holes to which we're bound
from love to love we spring but end in dirt
then love again, forgetting last springs hurt.

I wish for her - and wishing's not my wont -
then moments later ween my wish too much.
To see her, hold her hand, is all I want
to wean me of her distant love by touch.
So I must words most tenderly select,
-to woo this wish from her I deem most fair-
write them, speak them, fight them till correct.
Ascendant recitation, be my prayer:
Give me this day, an hour of your time,
forgive me if affection makes me bold,
but tempt me, lead down paths to verse and rhyme
and I'll deliver beauties yet untold.
     Unlock this gated garden of the heart
     and henceforth ever play the muses part.

I'll let you read these
and make your guesses
smile your smiles
question your questions
and when all is done - you'll not dare to ask me, who was she?
when was that?
you'll say: that was nice
I liked that bit about the dress...
and the butterflies.
and I'll say: thank you.

This is the clutch
the phone
the crutch
I don't have to interact if i don't want to
and nothing can make me
nothing can take me from- my phone...
My phone which saves me...
So maybe i'm texting a friend
a lover
the end all
the be all
you want her to be all
the things you ever dreamed up
but that's not fair
like she is
all too fair's
what she is
and nothing can measure the feeling
the reeling you do inside your head
god, I hope i'm right.
Lest we start some fight
Some one in a number
I can't even count
lest the whole thing amounts to amount
in which case we're mounting a much larger problem.
so we should talk,
what's happ'ning?
we should talk,
what's not?
anything.