Birds singing
in the dark
—Rainy dawn.

I will never regret holding your hand
How can I regret something I once wanted so bad
And if you think the broken memories and promises are collateral damage then you are wrong
I never asked you for love poems or songs
All I wanted was to hold your hand and when I did it felt like thousands of tiny sun splashes were dancing in my eyes my lips and oh my god my thighs
I will never regret because regret in this case is weak
It would defy and soil the what seemed like a bright future
Yes I do not regret but that does not mean the fights were something I looked forward to
The Godzilla like monster I turned into every time you would crawl under my skin because you knew oh you knew
You knew that I liked tea with milk and if you step on my foot I will have to step on yours
You knew too much and yet nothing at all because that’s what it was supposed to be
We would go on yelling sprees over specks of dust
But in everything we did there was a lingering presence of lust and with that always an element of mistrust
It would gnaw on my nerves and rip out cords of my patience
The necessity to repeat, repeat, repeat the conversations made them looooong and tedious
And somehow we didn’t notice how it became so serious
And when we became ignorant we started to fade
Slowly but surly we obeyed the laws of disappearing
One missed call, two unread text messages, three kisses from a stranger
And just like that you disappear.

It’s only ever once
I’m inside the box
of your mind
that my tongue turns
misty blue
and in small whispers,
I pass away,
dying in some nonchalant way.
Oh how the days race on by
and how you pretend not to notice
that I’ve got my eagle eyes on you.

Easy shells,
we’ve made a mockery
of legitimate feelings
but I cannot deny such vraisemblance

You are a beach
in September,
or a summer in
rigor mortis.
I think we were both dead
when we met,
only just beginning to beg for rebirth
and I brought you maps of no-man’s land
so now here we are

Stuck in the mud
of a pneumonatic love.
I will always be the coughing Queen of Anomie
and you’ve still yet to unleash
your lungs.

On the flipcharts and billboards and boardwalks where cash talks and greed stalks the unwary and where the darkness is scary,
huddled underneath moonlight that fades into the long night and holding on tight to their bedrolls along with the soup and the bread rolls and the mission bell tolls for the end of
round one.

'On top of the world ma'
look how far we have come,
and the nanny state looks after its favourite son but as the sun sets on Wapping and the 'mint set' go shopping
for some the world's stopping.
(I want to alight)

The sun sheds some light as the night flicks away and for those who would lay in the doorways of shop fronts,who we think of as stunt men,the cut off,truncated and blunt men another day starts.

And in Whitehall they call for the tea trolley at nine.
A fine time for some and the nanny state looks after its
favourite son.

Castles in the sky
Overtake my vision for miles
They seem so close
Yet they climb still higher
Pieces fall off, come to the Earth
Bless us sweet castle, your bricks bring birth

Castles in the sky
Dark and non inviting
May bring young children nightmares
But over life are more enticing
Floating high above the wars
Inhaling sunshine through their doors

Castles in the sky
Filled with life and destruction
I open my heart to thee
My lungs fill with obstruction
Closest to me, this form of it
Soul- leaving body in a blue, endless pit

Dear Night;

The day breaks like a child's neck,
And there she is -
Like a fresh sand hills beckoned seductively
By childish poetry that
Rings off the fingertips like marshmallows
Burnt from too much *****

A cradle erupts:
Two deaths turning into one,
A turning sensation of philosophers timid to experience
We are what?
We are the writhing fiends caught on
By electricity sought upon by
The high priests of a no man's land
Billy the Kid

Tragic care giving fiends telling tales
Of naturality that grow like figs neath virgins
And we share the fragrance of foreigners
Dancing neath' their dead bodies for we
Are the store fronts of the epileptic rich

Sharing nothing, we forgive the dead angels that
Share in nothing but their own salvation
And we the nation hold their hands as they are handed
Their medals that shine and beat against innocent
Sun where we - Good Humans - will always feel inferior

I take thee for my own prisoner
Let's go and check out the sun for mine own
I said I was having sun...asleep
Mine own mind was bent, crooked, doomed
Warranted evil will of course be put to light

Teller tell me what I wish to know
You tell me the secret
You wish to hold, oh' you wish to keep
We are the children you asked for
But you are so unwilling up accept

But the press is something that is intangible
They are spread spearers that are accepted as they are:
A good german; a fair dutchman; a funny Chaplin;
Genius moving with insecure marijuana.

But she presses her own soul on the glass
Never lasting - a pure bread horse
There she stands, like an egyptian statuette incarnate
Breaking through the clouds like a pillar
Bent only for salvation and glory

A cool informant next to Hemingway that breaks
The next vinyl that's hot mixed with devil sweat
Someone breathes something on my neck and I'm soon
To wonder what the next place I need to be is
So...I wonder...Myself is the one to take care of this mess?

Here we are - stagnant - like a tombstone,
Wondering what we are meant for and wondering
Where we are not supposed to go.
We have our labels.
We have our names.
And, yes, we have our jobs that were
Given to us by companies that have no face,
Only a name and yet we obey...

Too push a confidence you have to ask me
What I wish to know for the assignment that no one cares about
After I get what people will listen too
What the truth is a very thing
I love the hash that beeps like a dead hyena on the road side
Howling like a lost lover without someone to love