Even tho i " moved on",
I still get excited,
When i see you.
My heart jumps
When i hear your name.
And when you tell me you might like someone.
I still hope you'll say me.
When i get a message i still hope its you.
I'll always check my phone about 6 times, for you.
And i dont know why.
Apparently i dont like you,
But apparently i still love you.
Its like this feeling,
Its overwhelming,
It takes over my head and heart .
I want you,
But i dont,
I hate you,
But i dont,
I dont wanna like you,
But i love you,
But i dont.

white and blue swan
parrot feather
scurrying above
water of flame.

a moon-song
soft and delicate

a summer pond
and a thirsty flame

my jealousy of you
flowing like wine

the weeping stars
melting in the sea

a stormy night
sweeping out, sweeping out...

a kiss in the dark
as if the night blossomed

the pouring of a water jug,
the scattering of the dark...

winter faded like old parchment, drawn in charcoal
the trees waited for the inevitable colours of spring.
your voice coloured silence and left me standing
away from the crowd with my head inclined to yours,
listening to you, the shadows swept away and your
voice like the moonlight, the blue inks of the sea.
i watched you unwind night skies and the night stars
that burnt in the rivery realms of lost ruins and whispering
dreams, fell like dead men before your passion and there
was no reasoning with what you believed and you had
no compassion for the world. hatred fired up before
my forgiveness and you could not forgive. how many  
oceans scattered their flowers and light, how many
armies fell before the burning amber of your eyes?

a white lily
light as a leaf
on the dancing water...

a honey moon
drifting slowly across
the dark arch of the sky...

a bright penny
dropped in a well and
a wish to find true love...

tonight i can't write poetry,
a star is just a star.

the lapping water drifting to the sand,
the smugglers hurry o'er the silver wave,
a rose-moon blushing where the waters lave
and moonlight glistens on the breezy strand.
the oars are steady, gliding to the land
the stroke of midnight near a watery cave,
their whisp'ring feet run silent as a grave                                              
to its dark reach to hide the contraband.
the waves roll mistily with honeyed breath
the sky, a vault of iron, weeps a tear,
the sweeping waters break and start to veer,
a gold tooth glints, the night as black as death,
a dreadful shout, the watch is drawing near,
how suddenly their faces pall with fear!

february and the roses have
finally stopped flowering

above stormy clouds
the moon scatters like a ghost

i dream of you, of you...

and the night glides peacefully
to rest while i sigh and wait.

the sky's flowers are the
february stars that brood
like a crashing sea.

moon against moon,
the indigos of the night
wind and unwind.

who listens when the
bright beams tremble?

who listens to the grey night's
powerful song?

the sky's flowers are the
slow river of clouds that
flow away from me,

little paper islands
puffed out like chinese lanterns.

only the stars and the
clouds and the moon,

the boughs beneath, withered
and gaunt, start to dream...