I will love you
in the worst ways possible

I will take you slowly at first
then all at once like a sudden storm

The small light touches
Innocuous

A gale of laughter

Secret smiles
Like the sun playing hide and seek
on a particularly cloudy day


I will rip you apart and settle into your bones

Love you like you've never felt it before
As if there was no one but Me


I will tear you into bits
And open out the auricles
and ventricles of my heart


Tell you it's necessary
And leave
In a sudden storm

I will say it was for you
So you could move on  
Find someone better

Love someone the Right way
I'm too much of a mess,
I'll tell you

And when I leave
You'll beg me on your knees
To stay

I will say it is necessary
and go away
Say that one day,
looking back,
You'll see why

But my lightning
Will reside in your lungs and breath
Even as I make you burn

You'll never see why

But you know I wouldn't stay
I can't stay, I always say

I will apologise
I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry

But

But
Maybe I really needed to go
before you sunk into my bones
became my lightning
and took me by surprise

I will make you taste blood in your mouth
I'll be your biggest fan
When you write raving about my misdeeds
and coldness

I will see your writing grow exponentially
In oceans and mountains

I will love you love you love you
The only way I've known how

- from a distance.


this is how I've survived.

the last thing i said to you was that i loved you

lost in translation from english to english

i said one thing, and then

you said no more

i've got 99 problems and
they're all different
ways to spell your name.

She loves the idea of love,
and I am the slave of it.  
She loves the idea of happiness,
and I am deprived of it.
She loves the idea of this and that,
and I am giving her this and that.

I wonder if she do love me, or clinging on false pretenses.

To write food in the stomach
Of every hungry child.

To spell war as peace,
Metaphorize flowers into the barrel

Of every gun on Earth.
The poet has responsibilities

Beyond those of mothers,
Of kings and presidents.

I refuse to give up hope;  
This could be a poem world.

Come on, write your worst piece
Of literature.

Even misprints may give other
Meanings to a word,

Write me a green sky, blue dirt,
Trees the colour of air.

Sometimes the best poets
Have the least to say,

So keep writing, write until your
Fingers fall asleep.

Write until you havent slept
For weeks in search of that word,

That one right word,
Then rest on a notebook pillow

And dream the world right.
Write the world right.

There is no such thing as
Wasted poetry.