magic flows
from my fingers
flowing
it lingers
lovingly
in my ear
holding her
letting her breathe
making her sing
makes me happy
to be here
she whispers to me
oscillates
at my frequency
lets me speak
my soliloquy
without saying a word
what a waste of life i would be
with no ability for creativity
i have a need for my heart beating
while my soul still has melody
yet to be heard

the words we said
are dead and gone
their pain remaining
stubbornly
the sting this tale
delivers often
keeps it fresh in memory
emotion decomposed and rotten
left alone to atrophy
now i feel
its time to move on
unforgettable
has forgotten me

centre of a universe
mostly of my making
exception taken to exceptional lengths
to anything infiltrating
made up my mind
making running repairs
working with tools shaped by the same fool
that put me there
if i was a spider in a web
id be hovering over a mirror
waiting for the other spider to move
so i could eat it
im a monster of my making
overripe and set for reaping
im just waiting for the drop
im king **** of **** heap

you hide your fire inside
where its burning you alive
the pain of keeping it aflame
is shining in your eyes
in protecting it from the rain
youve stopped seeing the sky
look up while some spark remains
before the heat inside you dies

my sage advice
is more sage than wisdom
yet they call me occam
when they seek my counsel
better a devil you know
when advocacy is needed
but beware
this devil has a devil of his own

oil and water

you and me

never seeing

where we meet

in the middle

why as a species
have we consistently
empowered the enfeebled
allowed them to lead the way
what does that say about us
when what sets us apart
is our ability to deduce
we need to stop and decide
if we are the right animal
for the top of the food chain
as i suspect we taste
better than we think