To this love that speaks so loudly
I raise my glass
(more **** than class, a heady brew of beer and wine)
And toast to loving freely
Living ideally
And making these rich and teeming
dreams come true.
I say I love you
And know that is the easy part.
I hand you my heart
And breathe in
as invisible tears
Depart my eyes
And my soul tries
So desperately
To be brave
And stave off the fear
Of failure.

Until now
I had felt a sense
Of alone
Free roam
Taking over me.
Now,
I see,
Differently.
I am not one.
Rather many
And this single entity
Is plenty.
I am love.
For all my errors made
I am my own undoing
My own repair.
For every solo step taken
I dance for all.
For every crouched and howling boy,
Small,
I am tall,
An echo,
Resounding.
There is strength here
In this solidarity.
We, love, are one.
Together as we are alone.

I come unstuck when it seems
That my influence
is not enough
and solution is the job at hand.
When I don’t have an answer
And can only be me
And all that I see
Are boxes
And clouds
Floating in my mind
Unattached and
Drifting
Lost in thought
And a whisper in the wind.
I am of whim and fancy
And fleet passing thoughts
That mean the world to me
Free and flotsam
Ebbing
Then crashing
And bits and pieces of me
Wash up along the shore
To be picked up and carried
Like bounty and wealth
And good health
Clasped
Tight delight
Within a treasured chest.
I crash and thrash
Each day
I pray
That I can be
For you
For me
A lighthouse
Tall and proud
A beacon in the dark
When my presence is the essence of the solution.

I cant be everywhere
Inside their minds
And holding firm
Within my own.

I have sewn
My name
Onto my sleeve
So as not to forget
Who I am
and to remember where
I came from
I have drawn a map
Inside my heart
Caged and inked
And spread
Smudged
And corners
Leafed
And burning

I am only here
For now
I can see you
All.

Dear ****** diary

I know i'm not alone
but i'm tired of talking to
myself.
Outside of these walls seems
so very
far away.
I never dreamt i'd learn to love
this life,
then feel as if i'd given myself away
in pursuit of
a different me.
I cant see past my lies.
I cant breathe through this smoked
den of
filth and anxiety.
This is like drowning
without the
******
of death.
This is like suffering.
All over again.
And i thought i was
all and encompassing,
but i am only
small and encumbering.
for every day i live this life
(of filth and lies and strain)
i hope there is another
where i am raw
and can still
feel the pain.

Life moving fast
Like storm cell rain
Washing, running
Torrent and quickly
Through the drains.
Some daze,
In this cold and constant place
I wish I were a folded paper boat
Tipping, curving crests, afloat
And chasing the stream
Downwind.
Away and washing clean
A waxed vessel
Escaped
Pouring through
Concrete flooring.
I would steer for the sea
On waves awash with
Urban weeds
Detritus sweeping across
The deck
Of my paper boat built
For one.
I would run
With the water
A creased and soggy me
All folded and falling apart
At the seams.

Door slam..
*******
Ma'am.
Take your tude'
i ****** your mother.
******.
Word.

Sitting, restless

In this changeling

Sensation

Of freshness and renewal.

Running

Rat on a wheel.

Each passing day

A different way

Of feeling,

An altered state of mind.

Seeking

To find

A man within the boy.

Hoping to see

The real me.

Alive and kicking.

Hot flushed, this post determined puberty

And the desperate need to feel.

An urgent angst to Be.

Short fuse and temper flare.

I’m not really there

Yet still somehow

Everywhere and

Everything;

Else breathing.

Dysmorphic chest

Heaving

Exigency

In this

Juncture

Soul puncture,

And bloodied bandaids

Cast off

My heart

Once worn on my sleeve.

I am finger skin,

Flesh and nail

Torn

And jagged edges

Peeling.

Perplexity kneeling,

I am deeply lost inside of me.

Begging to be found.

Compund; unbound.

They say that beggars can’t be choosers

Only losers left to dreaming.

They also say

That I may be a dreamer

But I’m not the only one.

I will come undone in this undoing.

Eschewing

A life lived unalive.

Slow unravel

To once again

Begin

To belong in this

Skin

Stitched bleeding riches

To my bare and brittle bone  

He is not alone

I feel him

Running

Waiting

Sating disquietude

With an attitude

Unshackled

He is not running

Rather feet flying

A rat inside

A wheel.

(Frustration)
It's not working,
all this grinding of the
literical wheel.
Push push slide.
Trying to find
a part of me
from the deep;
inside.
Something pulled out and
penned, something to like,
to love, to call my own and wear
with pride.
It's not working tonight.

All that's left is the taste of
too much tobacco
high and dry in my palate.
All thats left is an empty milk bottle
and not enough black coffee in the world
to wire open my eyes.

These pages are lies
the minute they leave my fingertips.
The words are fleeting
These feelings brief

There is only grief
for the loss of my tongue
when i need it the most.
When i need it to speak
from my heart
despite not hearing
it beat.

Helpless
speechless
Doubtless wasting
my time.

It’s funny
Sitting here
Thinking back
To the times
She refers to
As
Then.

How I used to be,
The person I was
Before it was all
Unwritten.

Small threads
Picked and worn,
Undone.

She’s not the only one
Who remembers the small me
That always
Smiled for the camera.
Climbing trees,
Not afraid to fall.
She speaks
as if it were yesterday.

One eye in the past
One eye on the future
I am cross eyed
Short sight obscures
My view.

Recollect
And memories
Requiem dreams.
That which goes unseen
Time passes
And still I close my eyes
And remember
As if it were a life time ago.

Ribs
and pointy sticks
and scarlet ribboned
sanguine teeth
all down my side
they slide
from chest
to rib
they bite
from skin
to smile.
I itch and scratch
and nick and pick
and all the while
a supple
smile
licks
flavoured
at my lip.

Pretty as a picture
Gilled and arced
small crescents
and the presence
of an ornate touch.
So much
{silence} unsaid,
{sweat} unspent,
{sense} unfelt,

Choked and bound
skin ground
and breathing
beneath the blade.

Trussed
and
Trust

Etched seamless
strokes

Volatile,
then comes the
Calm.

Suffocating in this state of mind

Like a grain of soil

On the wall of a

perpetually filling

Bottomless pit.

All stale

and collapsing mud.



I can’t breathe

And it is dark in here

In this silence

In this wet and stifling

***** blanket

Of thin smiles

That veil

filth and dirt.



Gritty, I can taste discontent

( restlessness stirred, agitated, weeping)

Like a thorn in the side

Of this torn and invisibly stitched mouth.

My fingers bleed

And doubt seeds

Vicious weeds inside

An already

sick and nauseated mind.



There is hurt in here

And pain

And the bittersweet unspoken

refrain

Of one lost in their

Own directionless

Domain.



These walls I built, alone.

That stare back careless

And greet me daily with their

Cold embrace.



In this darkness, alone,

I, us, we,

cry.

Small children,

Whimpering in this feeling

of self chafed friction.

Whining,

each whine followed by

Gutteral, viscous, primal mutterings

These madman

Me, myself and i

Locked in a tunnel

Without light

It is cold and we want so badly

To relight the fire



I

claw at the fortification

I have erected

Around myself

Then bleed some more

Until the walls in front of me turn from

la mort noire to

rouge de sang



Sitting here

In this

Abyss.

Blinded by the inability to see

The incapacity to feel

Anything but the feeling of failure.

This powerlessness to heal,

All sealed up and drowning

in my private pool of mud.



Still it is dark in here,

And wet,

And bloodied

And brooding.

The cold walls are soothing

And the veil still acts

To conceal

The extent of filth

Scourging up the walls

Of this inaudible and bidding cave.

These feelings
Run river deep
Channeling through me
This feeling of falling
And knowing
That the impact of landing
Could not possibly compare
To the faith I have in you.
You've taken my heart
Which was Surrounded by a 12ft wall
And climbed despite your fear
To be near
To be by my side
You cracked open the vault
And are nestled
So warmly welcome inside.
You found behind the walls
My heart
Locked in a cage
And brought with you
The universal key
You have unlocked me.
With this freedom
Comes love
And with this love
Comes a smile
That stretches
A mile
Beneath my skin.

Sad Sailor songs
and a roll my own
staining brown carcinoma
spit and strand
upon my lip.

Close my eyes
and hear bells,
i can feel them
pealing through
the quiet slippery air.

I can sense
without feeling
An urge without
momentum
{ripples in the breeze}
whispering trees,
this disease
(a spreading sadness)
a badness
sliding, slinking
ink and blight
into the bidding
night.

A smear upon each
dead
shining (dying) star.

Smoke curl, unfurl
and waiting, watching
for another
starry tear to
slide off
the burnt out
face of
the sky.

So i drew a pile of words onto the page
and in a rage i covered them in black lines and criss crosses until a
small sad scribbly sailing ship appeared upon my page;
mooring, sinking, drinking in the brine
and choking on weeds that drift
aimlessly atop a deep engulfing sea.
Dying boat submerging to be free
Lonesome boat singing a fading melody,
Water cleans.
Moonlight streams.
Seafolk dream
and the ocean breathes in a calm that swells
into a seething, heaving storm within a sea of scribbled words
lines blurred
bone dry
sun starched
my mouth is parched
and words form salted pearls upon my lip.

She fingers at my ***
and plays me like a mandolin
Long notes
strings pulled
All I can hear is blood rush through my brain
Insane
All this ******* and a smile
Stretched from ear to ear.
She says I am awesome sauce
If I’m the sauce she must be the pasta
Faster and faster
We **** until chords fall
Freely from our throats.
High notes
Like music to my ears.
All fears lost when I look into her
Deep brown eyes
I cannot disguise
My lust
There is trust
In this madness
Like falling down a rabbit hole
Looking for cake to eat
And magic potions to drink
I could sink into her completely
I could drown in her whole
She takes the sadness from my soul
and replaces it with the simple joys
of happiness and like meeting like.

shower.

Small boy sitting and thinking
crouched in the shower
alone
(for now)
Deep in thought
shallow in action.
Little boy crying and
screaming inside.
As the water
relieves each sin and
conscience settles in.
Feeble boy drained and
soaked as the worries
of the day wash away.

This is no life for a soldier
a survivor of wars.
So young for an old soul
So old for a young boy.
Quiet boy who cannot help but to
hear the roar of discontent
raging from within.
Little boy scared of the familiarity
of a life lost to sorrow.
A sobbing boy drowning in sadness
wishing only to smile but alas,
alone in the shower, crouched down low
there is no show of solidarity,
only solitude.

sick of your...

Every time you spit in my mouth
with your visceral vehemenence
i wonder to my wits end
Did you kiss your other lovers
with that poluted ***** mouth?
Does it make you feel bigger?
or more in control?
Does it tickle your fancy
to be taking your toll
On me and us and what could be ours.

Im sick of your words.

Your attitude
slung low on your hips
biting
deleteriously
loose from your tongue.
Tonight im not crying
just tired and perturbed
you're a tyrant to my self,
an echo disturbed.

I want to hate you for this
While i love you for the other,
but who am i to blend the boundaries of
love and hate?

and your love is the balm
you say?
that eases the pain,
keeps the demons
at bay.

I disbelieve you now
amidst this tendered rhyme,
spoiled stitch in time,
that is binding your lexis
to my tongue.

You're in my head.

and i dont like to savour
the rotted flavour
that is your shadow of doubt,
seeded so deeply in the terrain
of your self triggered drought.

Im sick of your words.

Loneliness

Made himself comfortable in my heart

He took up a chair

Set it backwards

And swung a leg over

With an inaudible sigh



Sat on down

Settled in,

Right beside

The torn edges

And split seams



Started

Picking

Tearing

Scratching off

Strips

Of my damage

Of my out of control.



He smokes and smolders

Like a haystack

Silently igniting



Turns pebbles into boulders

That sink me

Deeper

Tighter

Slighter

Into myself

Until my chest

Explodes

And strips of loss

Scatter at my bare feet



Him,

The lonely man

With the loud voice

And vacant

Laugh.

He can fill a room

With his technicolour coats and masks

And fade the brightest star

With his undying pallor

That is sewn just beneath his skin.



He is the crafty artful dodger

Of bullets to the heart

Ducks and weaves

And falls away

Down the dark

Alley ways

Of this damaged

urbanized

Over developed

Being.



Lonley man.

Pulled up a chair

And made himself at home

In my heart.

Loneliness

Made himself comfortable in my heart

He took up a chair

Set it backwards

And swung a leg over

With an inaudible sigh



Sat on down

Settled in,

Right beside

The torn edges

And split seams



Started

Picking

Tearing

Scratching off

Strips

Of my damage

Of my out of control.



He smokes and smolders

Like a haystack

Silently igniting



Turns pebbles into boulders

That sink me

Deeper

Tighter

Slighter

Into myself

Until my chest

Explodes

And strips of loss

Scatter at my bare feet



Him,

The lonely man

With the loud voice

And vacant

Laugh.

He can fill a room

With his technicolour coats and masks

And fade the brightest star

With his undying pallor

That is sewn just beneath his skin.



He is the crafty artful dodger

Of bullets to the heart

Ducks and weaves

And falls away

Down the dark

Alley ways

Of this damaged

urbanized

Over developed

Being.



Lonley man.

Pulled up a chair

And made himself at home

In my heart.

Sit, stay, fetch, heel.

So good i have become
at controlling the rage
that I'm bound and cant feel
the truth
anymore.

So quiet and caged
(with the key in my hand)

Despondent and broken
with only myself as my
keeper.
Well heeled, like a dog.
On a chain.
(down boi down)

I wouldn't know freedom
if it slapped me in the face.
(those gloves, those hands, are mine)

I am my keeper
and for that
i despise
my charge.

I got everything I need
Right here
All around me
Like a shadow
To my body
A paper trail
Free flowing
Behind me
S’all free
Incredibly
Near
And never far.
Sitting on the edge of my tongue
Feel it in my fingertips
Light slips between
The layers of everything
I need
Sitting
Knees crossed
Beside me.

In the shower
When I am alone
With the water
And only me.
I should be standing tall
But instead I find a tiny boy
Crouched
And crying tears
that sting hotter than
The water meant to be cleaning
Off the salt
Of a turbulent
Tossing sea.

I find a shadow of my daily self
A weak and lonesome man
Who cannot stand
To hold his chin high
A man who cannot stand
To smile bright
A lost boy
Crying
In the cubicle
His confidence
Missing
His course listing
Upon this cruel and violent sea.

This is me,
This lying man
Who smiles by day
And cries by night
This is me
This constant fight
To love myself
And love thy neighbour.

Small boy
Squatting.
Disgust
Rotting him
from stern to bow.
He doesn’t know how
To stem the tears
Release the fears
As if they were hounds
And could chase away
The badness.

This sadness
Overwhelms
And burning tears
scratch his face.
He is disgrace
Released,
Displaced,
Alone.

Tiny little parcel
All wrapped up and waiting to be
Undone.
Sitting quietly
Under the shade of
Resentful
Ambiguity.
Cautious scarred and wry
(smiling)
insecurity
See me sitting calmly
assembled
All parceled up and wanting
Waiting
To be unpicked

Carefully
Hand stitched
Calling softly (upon deaf ears)
To be untied
To see what lies
Beneath each fettered
Layer.
Role player
This small and softly spoken
Box
Of being
Seeing nothing
Feeling everything
With wary
(doleful)
Soulful eyes.
(closed)
Dreaming of being
(open)
I am token
Bundle
(******)
a pile of sticks
untamed.
Paused upon the ground
unsound
Aspiring to to be burned
In order to
(feel)
spurned.
This collated stack
Of feelings lost to the numb of
Being wrapped up and tied to the self.

A book full of stories
Unnamed.
Pages upon pages
Loose words
Collected
Piled and falling
Upon a dusty
Neglected shelf
Too much of the self
Not enough of the other.

Resting.
Worn out
Dog eared
Belayed by fear.

Waiting
Wasting
Hasting
to be undone.
To be unknotted
Frayed
Displayed
Vast volume
Unspoken betray.

Hold fast
This minute
Package
Lying restless
At your feet.

Smiles
And kisses
For stiches
Sunshine,
You make my heart
Beat
If ever I were
To wish again
I would wish only for the same.

No more
In love
No more fallen
Rather falling
We are brushed finger tips
Waving goodbye
Choked,
Air stuck
Tight lipped
I feel sick
And tired
Raw flesh
And cut deep
Straight through
To already
Brittle and broken
Bone.
Alone
And tripping
Over the
Falling sky.
Red eyes
Disguise
Roll the dice
Snake eyes
And the next roll
Is in your hands.

You are my favourite type of conversation
The kind of relaxation
that rests easy like a rocking chair,
slippers and a roll your own cigarette
within my soul.
Your smile makes me whole
And I could drown in the beauty that is
your laughter.
I would quest after you if ever you felt lost.
I cry at the thought of our paths having never crossed;
at the idea that I had would have to live forever
With the pain
of not knowing your name,
Not seeing your face,
Not feeling your tender embrace,
Or the warmth of your heart lapping
Pooling
Pulling
The strings inside
my own.
Already,
together,
we have grown,
seed sewn,
Emerged,
Converged,
Two lovers with so much love to give.
So much time to live;
Embraced,
Divine intervention
So carefully placed
before us.

Some say he is wise
Some say simply hardened
A wizened, numb,
Impermeable ball
Of love mislaid
Trust betrayed.
A web
Of gritty layers
Interweaved,
Deceived ,
His heart is
Sewn and patched
Small puncture holes
(gasping, weeping, bleeding)
This heart
Pre-stitched and worn.
He gives tokens
Of self
Bespoken
By the body,
Giving and taking
Loving and hating.

Some say he is hard
Some say **** being easy.

Tired

[So very
*******
Tired]

Cant sleep
Fractured
De-railed.

I am pale
Looking
Feeling
Fading

I am wading
In my own
Muck and mire.
Too much fire
For a fish that needs
Motion/swell/ a tide
Deep sea.

I am too far within me
With no vision
Of the other side
I am alive
And breathing
But can’t bear
The weight
Of feeling.
Plagued
I am of
Nightmares
And broken
Sleep.
A one way street
Facing
The wrong
Direction.
I am sections
Of fractions
Of fragments
Of me.
[So very ******* tired]

release me.

Stygian I know these tunnelswell,been here since the beginning.Shadows dancing;beckoning withsharp biting rocks for fingers.Diamonds embedded that pierce like nails.Slow reckoningshrouded by shallow lightbouncing off scratched and bleedingwalls.This path that never endswith its dark and ever darkening hallows.No words to break the quiet.No riot to break down the walls.No squall to set the sailsand coughing, sighing, dyinglights to lead the way.

Sitting, scribing
One eye out my window
One eye on the screen
Sounds, unseen
I can hear a quiet world
Disrupted.

I hear a murmur
restless,
Susurrus
A stream of
Shrieks and whispers

It’s night out there,
False light in here
My open window
A beacon bright
Against the pitch black
Sky.

Together,
The night and I,
We cry and laugh
Away our fears
Like wild wolves
Baying at the
warm heart
of the moon.

I’m sitting here
Alone
And its cold
And
I desperately
Need to ***.

But my ****
Is stuck to the
Leather seat
Of my chair
Not a care for my bladder
See, apathy matters.

You said not to burden myself?
Say what
Speak up
I cant hear you?
Yours is mine and mine
Is yours
And baggage is still heavy
With someone else’s
Name tag on it.

******,
I cant just hear you
And try not to listen
What kind of friend would I be
Cold apathy
And dystrophy
Of the heart.

When lovers
Meet
And defeat
The unknown chill
Of strangeness,
Together they take on
And become
Like moss to the sea
And fossil set in
Stone.

We are portraits
alone
In our twisted
Insecurity
But together we are
Landscapes
Painted tint
and obscurity.

The burden is only the beginning.

Unrest sits inside of me. Scratch that. Unrest riots inside of me.
Tonight I knelt face down in a shower hotter than a Sydney inner city summer day. My skin burned. I hate water. I hate heat. In as much I particularly hate hot water. It intimidates me and steals my breath from fear and a terrifying blaze in my lungs. I often dream nightmarish of drowning in an ocean deep with blood red boiling water.

Still. I figured I could burn away this cold feeling that freezes me from my heart to my skin. If this were frostbite I would be a darker pitch of black. Head to toe. Inside out. Charred flesh and bone, sewn over a fevered mind.

I knelt on the pads of my shins, feet flat out behind me, knees scratching the tub, chest heaving with my hands clasped desperately behind my head pushing down. **** up, face down, no grace in this morbid search for self comfort. Trying so hard to become undone. My forehead rested in searing water raining down; that puddled hot and ***** beneath at my mouth. I prayed for tears. I ached to open up. One bleeding stitch at a time. To bleed tears of salt water amongst the fresh. Just to myself. For me if not for anybody else. Alone. Uninhibited. A quiet fury unleashed.

I searched for my voice and willed it to cry out. Urged it to break open and spill, a mess of confusion could at least be cleaned up. Without that mess I was still just a disaster waiting to happen.

I answered myself with silence. The only noise I could make was a low, guttural, throaty whine. The sound murmured in the water, muffled. Wasted. Washed away. Just air and water. Leaving. Draining. Just. Gone.
Salt burnt in my throat. More heat. Tears stung at the back off my eyes so I opened them and let the water in so as to coax the water out.
Nothing. Nothing but heat and emptiness.

Scratch that. This is not emptiness. I know emptiness well. I remember the echo of nothing. I remember non existence and its dumb witted mercy. I recall the dull anesthetised blanket of apathy.

This. Is. Feeling. This is being full and riotous. This is toxic and seething.
Appendicitis yet burst.

Even a toxic spill can be cleared, a burnt forest regrown. Degenerative. I feel like I am both sinking and replete at once. Both burning and washed out. Scarlet bright and discoloured. Alive and exhausted.
I am a vacuum through which no sound can travel. Waves of compression travelling through matter. From particle to particle I travel silenced, with no substance through which to reach a listener.

I am not listening.
I am unsound.
Unrest and riotous.

Even as I write this
My face burns.
My body aches and quivers and my stomach turns over and over and over until I stand and reach for my tobacco and roll to smoke to abate this ache that is eating me.

Alive.

I am a thousand words unsaid.
Five thousand tears yet spilled.
Words fall from my fingertips
But not from my lips.

I am the quiet in the storm.
Stilled, Stalled, Appalled by what can only come next.

This skin. Of mine. Is prickly and If I could just step out of it, for the sake of feeling settled, I would. I would stretch and unwind my mind then slowly furl back into myself, ironed out and calmed. Fresh stitches, less itches and the sense of having been free. From me.

Funnily enough, although I’m not really laughing, when the tears do come, when they bite at the corners of my eyes until I feel like my face is about to tear apart, a mess of salt and flesh, The darkness reaches out a cold and unforgiving hand and pushes down. Until the brackish brine reaches back into my throat, slides into my stomach, dragging with it that fleeting chance of reprieve. Then comes the sick. Then comes the smoke. Then comes the still and ever threatening silence.

I am a stranger to myself.
And this is not the first time.

Cold heart
all warmth depart
as distance takes its hold.
Crossed arms, knee fold .
You can't;
I can't,
See me for these walls.
You can't;
I can't,
Hear me for this noise.
Static buzz between us,
void and unforgiving.
In sadness i sit alone.
In separation we walk backwards; together.
Am i disappearing?
A ghost with limpid tears
and teknicolour fears
of loss and self loathing.
This is only for today,
this grief and ever fading.
Tomorrow
time will have passed
and warmth back in shall
seep.

Today
Life is
A shade
Of dark and royal
Blue.
Today I am concrete,
I am ricochet,
And I am sliding
Like a shadow
Off a wall.
I stand tall
But the sun
Provokes
My silhouette
To shrink and shrivel
And I appear small
To those above me.
They are the wall
I am the nook,
Cavernous and angled
Tucked, chipped and caved
I am ocean spray
And secrets whispered
In the wind.
Blue white and Grey
I am ricochet,
And they are the bullet.
Echoes of emotion and
Commotion;
Like man
I am from mars
And I crawl into myself,
My hole
In my wall.
Today I am small.

No feelings
No depth
No core to strike the iron hot
Upon.
I regret to inform you Sir
That I have lost the capacity
To care,
That I have dropped the
Ephemeral Ball of belief
And have become tangled
Undone.
A shallow
Hollowed
Cracked
Broken and busted
Shapely shell
That contains only dust,
Particles of Mistrust

I am bumpy rolling stone
No moss collected
Just cleft reflected
On a surface
Not shy or unscarred of pain.

This is today
This empty decay
This is now, this dust cloud
Caught trapped aloof and uncaring.

There are no words to fill the void between being and becoming.
Trembling skin humming.
Heartbeat drumming.
Stories burn deep
Beneath my skin.
Flattened out layers of panic.
Manic.
I am distress
Rip torn
Heart worn
Tears wet with fears
sawn
From old salt eye
To face
Disgrace.

This being Is my undoing.

There are no words to fill the void between being and becoming.
Trembling skin humming.
Heartbeat drumming.
Stories burn deep
Beneath my skin.
Flattened out layers of panic.
Manic.
I am distress
Rip torn
Heart worn
Tears wet with fears
sawn
From old salt eye
To face
Disgrace.

This being Is my undoing.

I feel a familiar wave
Of apathy
Washing, creeping, aching
over me
That self propelled
Ignorant kind of numb admission
That reaches into the bleeding
redness
Of your heart
And wraps black
Stained greyscale
Morbid pale
fingers around the
Aorta
Choking
Silencing
Encoding
A defence
Repeated
Completed time and again
Pre worn
And cut up
And burnt
like a leather
Shield, a muddied bloodied field
War ready



This is a Mexican stand off
Where the pistols
Pull their own pins
This is a temple
Unforgiving of sins.

I can hear a call
For help echoing
Through the death grip
Of regularity
But the voice is familiar
And if I remember correctly
It fades after time.
The voice is mine
one of many
The cry is loud
But habits old are hard to break
And, after all, a rolling stone
Will gather no moss
moss ,enough I have already.
And with the ignorance comes
A steady.
And with the steady
There comes a surface calm.
And with that calm I can sit
At one in a room with myself
And not find cause to cry.
(despite the never ending, it will always be ok)

We ate eggs
And layed in bed
And ******
Whilst looking
At the view
Nothing to do
Other than stare
And care
Captured
And fulfilled
Within each others eyes.
Oysters
And bomb-diving
Seagulls
And Scissor for hands
Without any sound.

Kodak moments
And dressups
Like cowboy
Dapper dan’s
And pomenade.

Coffee and Belgium beer bars
And pirates with patches for eyes.

Silver trayed room service
And a mat for our feet at the side
Of our bed.
And daddy’s boy
With a cammo ****
Underneath
A Cheshire grin

And for five
Short hours
We walked
And talked
And were kept
Enthralled
By the allure
Of retail
Therapy

We accessorised
As if fashion
Were to cease tomorrow
Silver and tins
And etchings in time.
Then tie pins and scarves
And hats with wide brims.

We were lost
In a city of
Bright lights
And street art
And didgeredo’s
And bag ladies with more
Luggage
Than Sydney international terminal.

Bell boys
And valet
And privacy lights
Respite and
2 nights
of enjoying each day
from the
25th floor

Where to begin
I think to myself as I submerge
my thoughts
In you and what it is that
Gives the tick to your tock.
I think of your eyes
And the depth
That lies
Folded within
Green and brown
Layered
Life
Disguised
And smiling.
Lost glasses
And lager
That comes in pints
Accompanied by
Epic
And
Blatant
Action and statement
Your energy blasts
Fast and furious
Frenzy
I sense more to you
Than what meets my eye.
And in that thought
I lie
Here now
Creased brow
In anticipation of knowing you more.
I think of your nails
And the way they touch
Me deeper than
The welts
That are kissed
Crimson stain
Onto my skin.
Your essence
Seeps inside
Within
And bleeds out of my body
Through my lips
As I savour
The flavour
That makes
You taste
So simply
Divine.
You have this way
Of ceasing time
And pausing
The beat of my heart.
Just a smile
Is all it takes
And your laugh,
The way your eyes
Drop low,
The dip of your neck and
The way you glance up
And out from
Under your
Fringe.
You unhinge
The door
That stands
Shut and heavy
Before
My eyes
Wide open
Surprise
As you storm
Into my soul
And take whole
My delight
And spin its
Weave
Into gold.
I am sold
On you
And your cold hands
Warm heart.

Wordsmith
Writer
Of songs
Of sounds
That roll
Quietly full
From his lips
In short shallow whispers to himself
He sings
He breathes
Stories
Passion, love, belief
From grief
Then right on through to gladness
He climbs mountains
With slippery letters for feet
And sails the seventh sea
Pieces of flotsam forming tidings
Of vision, rock pools of  indecision
A collision of the imagination and tangibility
Penning of peril and threat
Breaking cold sweat
Cigarettes and coffee stains
Window sill
And rattling chains
He shakes cobwebs down
With etched verbose
For a broom
In his clandestine room
That serves as a scribers sanctuary.
Sewing, threading
Silk worm stitching
He is itching
To fill
To spill
To take the thrill from his heart
Straight onto the page.

You know
I held you
I felt you
I wrapped you up
And unstitched my skin
With invisible scissors
For you to slip into
To imbue
Like glue
I stayed
steadfast and ready
I held on for dear life
Through your restless night
My feet contoured around yours
My arms a blanket in your dreams
Small brown birds
For hands
That fluttered
A delicate mess
Of visions
To loud for your
Eyes
closed
Your head in my shoulder
Body curled
You
So small
So big
Love
Needing
And me
So wanting
To be there
In truth
Consoling and Chaste.
I breathed you in
And presented my presence
Like never before
I opened a door
That then became dust
A shadowland trust
Forged dark in the dawn
Of y(our) sorrow.

You… yes you.
(You know who I’m talking about)
I’m looking at you and you’re not even here

(You’re In my head and I don’t plan on letting you out)

{You’re in my heart and settling in}

(warm skin, I’ll keep you warm when all warmth departs)

It’s nice and cosy in here… you may as well take off all your clothes.
I suppose that’s a little bit forward;
Then again
Why would step backward when the future looks so bright?

With that crazy
Sexed up gaze you get in your
Café latte
Chocolate-brown eyes.
I have it locked inside my head
I’m holding it trapped;
A fortuitous hostage,
Within the once cold steel bars of my heart
It’s not so cold in there anymore
With your smile
Warming me from the core.

(I want more and more and more).

Does that make me needy?
Greedy?
A glutton for your lust?
A safe keeper for your trust?

Take my hand and walk a while
We can smile
For every mile
We tread together
Like nautical rope
I will tether you to your happiness.
I will bind you to your joy.

I could write of you until I ran out of keys
Until I ran out of pen and paper
Until the light leaves the sky
I cannot deny
The infatuation
That is stalking my mind.

Your voice
With its rich and sultry depths
Your music
With it’s unkempt passion
Girls like you
With your unquestionably
Infectious desire
Will never go out of fashion.

From now on when I think of awesomeness
I’ll always think of you.
From now on when I think of blood rush
Passion and lust
I will inevitably think of you
With that crazy
**** me baby
Look in your eyes.