do this they will instruct,
and you probably will.
do that they will drill into
the marrow of your bones.
get in line, stop fooling around.

and you probably will.

soon enough you’ll stand
up straight all by yourself.
worse still – spend your whole life
a puppet.

the moment you say, "**** it,
i’m reclaiming my soul.
i give myself permission
to do what I want, on my terms,"

that is the day you will
truly be free, and know how
good it feels to walk the earth,

no strings attached.

She rifled through me like a set of old drawers,
clothes strewn all over the bed and floor.
My eyes gouged and thrown there,
my ears pulled off and tossed there,
my skin peeled and slung there,
my head decapitated and kicked there,
my mind bent and twisted right here,
but my heart surgically removed and dumped over there,
at the foot of the door, all alone.
She stomped on it as she walked out.
It bled all over the carpet
and never looked like stopping..
------------------------------------------------------­----------
That was then.
I’ve a new set of drawers now,
beautifully laid out and boy has
she’s got killer green eyes, and the
kind of love that put me back together.

She rifled through me like a set of old drawers,
clothes strewn all over the bed and floor.
My eyes there
My ears there
My skin there
My lungs there
My mind there
My head there
But my heart over there
Away from the rest of me
She stomped on it as she walked out
It bled all over the carpet
And hasn’t stopped since.

do you really think love is easy?
that it takes no effort to keep love
to be love.

love is arguing over something small then
feeling **** about, wishing you had
better control over your tongue,
and saying sorry.

‘s not about who’s right, who’s wrong
‘s about making up,
‘s about taking the ripped out invisible chord
and plugging it back into each other.
reconnecting the love chord – not into the brain.

that day she said, “get out! i never want to see you again.”
he realised he’d’ ****** up big time for the last time.
that one more with the boys, meant the last one with her.
all she wanted was a window seat, but he gave her the aisle,
always the aisle,
the wrong aisle.
oh well.

thing is, you get another chance – at love that is.
best not look for it, clutch for it, search for it, otherwise
all you’ll find is desperation.
can’t love desperation.
you won’t even make the
plane if you fall for desperation.

love is many things, but what it’s not, is
easy.
whomever thinks it’s easy has never
found love.
they’ve found easy.

I swore to myself I’d never do it again —
fall hopelessly in love. To love is to get hurt.
I broke my arm once in three places, ******* it hurt.
It was nothing compared to a broken heart,
torn right down the middle. That type of pain seems
to never go away. Then you meet someone else, usually
when you’re not looking and you think **** man what’s happening...
it’s happening… this scary **** is happening again.

There are some things you just have no control over.

It goes like this:

One day you feel lost. You have strayed from the path, and when you look up you don’t know where you are. But something within pushes you on. So on you go; no reason, no rhyme, and with no real destination in sight.

Farther on you meet someone. A stranger, and for some mysterious reason you feel more connected to this person than anyone else. There is something about them you’ve never encountered before.

In the beginning you arrive early and leave late, wishing you never have to leave at all. You think you know what it is about them that makes you want to be with them all the time. But you don’t, you’ve not yet seen below the surface. Then you see that they are kind, and they are compassionate, they are generous and loving. It’s like they have come to you for some higher purpose; to reveal to you what you fail to see in yourself; like an Angel. You feel that the deepest part of them, is the deepest part of you.
  
The day comes when you know without question why you love them. With them, overtime, you find out what loves is, and what love is not.    

Then one day you realise that the stranger you met, when you strayed from the path, is the destination. You just had to lose yourself to find them so you could create the path together.

How could I ever have known when we first met it would end up like this.

I remember pulling up at the lights next to car with a guy and girl in it just like us. Except they weren’t talking or laughing at all. They both sat there staring into space, each with a distant look on their face.

“I hope we don’t end up like them,” I said.
“Like what,” you asked.
“Like their love has run out of things to say.”  
“Maybe they’re just waiting for the lights to turn green.”
“Maybe. I guess that’s one way of looking at it.”

I will wait for you
under the stars,
in the rain,
on dry desert plains…

I will wait watching the haze
of a date palm mirage,
where promise lies,
taunting.

I’ll wait for you,
no matter what,
no matter how long.

Question is:
Will you wait for me or
will you simply move on?

Is there such a thing as beautiful chaos?

The kind when you have no idea of where to start, where you are going, and how you will get there. You know not what it is that moves you. You just move.

I think there is such a thing. “What is normal for the spider, is chaos for the fly,” someone once wrote.

There comes a moment when you know you just have to move and trust all will be ok.  Often you will change direction, not for any particular reason, but because you can.

Better to move across the canvas of the earth leaving thunderous footprints, even if at times they form circles, than no prints at all.    

It is the child within that is this way, the child that splashes colour on a page at will, the untarnished artist whom creates beautiful chaos because they’d rather be the spider, than any kind of fly.

If you see the beauty in everything,
the beauty of everything is in you too.

When you can do you begin to
affect those that see no beauty
at all.

And the beauty about that is, you
don’t even know you’re doing it.

& the sky never knows what the Sun will do
in the breath of a new day,
how it will be clothed.
You too are like the sky, vast
and beautiful, full of wonder.  
There are times you may not
see the colour of the sky in you.
You may not, but everybody else can.

There is something so inexplicably beautiful about being broken, shattered onto the floor of darkness. Love can easily do that to you. One day your breath is taken and the next, your soul is broken.

If you were a cup made of porcelain you would need all pieces to be whole again, and the cracks would show. You wouldn’t match the rest of the set, and be discarded, thrown into the *******.

But the beauty of being human is that you get another chance. Out of the shattering you get choose which pieces you want, and the ones you don’t. The cracks may show in your eyes and on your skin, and that’s ok; there’s not another six like you.

Love the cracks in you, these are reminders that there was a time when you felt as if your soul almost died. Then, in a defining moment, you had the fight to step out from the darkness, and into your light to be whole again.

It’s in the cracks to which light enters, and ignites the soul.

Telling the one you’re with,
that you love them,
shouldn’t be saved for a
special occasion.

That’s what champagne is for.

How could I ever wash away
my thoughts of you,
the smell of you,
what my skin does from
the touch of you.

How could I ever not
wake to the sound
of your breath, your
rhythm, awash me.

How could I ever make
sense of this world without
falling in love with you.

How could I ever have known
before you, there was such
a thing as a falling with no landing.

Smokey nights behind fly screen filters
Torn in one corner, what the use?
It creaks every time you enter,
clangs shut when you leave.
The time will come
when I’ll get a new one.
One that won’t creak or clang -
who’ll, fix that ******* door.
Someone who’ll never leave,
and write me
poetry.

I saw the Universe—
     flowers opened before the morning Sun.
     The Moon smiled rolling aimlessly
     through the night sky, and the
     Sun cast its own shadow at your feet.

Rivers ran uphill to meet the rain
     while oceans stayed high for longer.
     Trees swayed to windless days.
     Night became day, day became night.

And the clouds, they swirled
     against blue hues that ran forever.
     And I— I stood in awe of
     what I saw when I looked
     in to your eyes.

I forgot what it’s like to be up in the clouds,
to breach the haze and see how the sky
makes the Sun feel at home.
I forgot how from my window seat
there’s a movie out there, an ocean
of difference between us that’s not
so different at all.
Today we defy gravity.
What movie will we see tomorrow?
Will it be like this, one we never tire of?
One we can watch over and over again.