Dug up from the sand you have been buried in
held aloft
squirming
blinded by heat and intensity of visions
mucus runs across your face
dripping with guilt and chemicals
the aftertaste of corporation food.

Fevered dreams held together with floyd moments
rings around you
raw,hollow,retching as you cough up self disgust.

No softness here
tears too ashamed to cry,too bitter tasting
no conversation here
only prattles and pity,unsure
body squeezed like a writhing grub
flesh and water
swollen
unpretty.

She was held so clumsily in place a long time ago,
until she stepped into a bubble,
a clutter of personalities,
come out,come out wherever you are...is what they kept repeating.
when the 27 came storming,raging,loving at them,
the horror in those made up eyes, burned,
she was aflame with life ,tormented and screaming,
left with no cover,raw and broken,
she clawed her way back,(did she?)
with a soul ripped open,
spewing forth truths that never abated.
She still chokes on those times.

'She arrived today,all wintry smiles,
the weather seems to have accommodated,
I would not/could not feed her sadness,
so she left still hungry
with veiled threats of aloneness at christmas.

I built a fire to take the edges off her goodbye.
Divinely aromatic,
but still a chill in the air,
and a slight taste of cinnamon.'

You took me in circles
to the ocean floor
wrapped me in tendrils
left me floating and free.
Whispering witch and a music man
the sea has dried up
all that remains is the lyrical burn..

Letters run
words untangle
and flow through these viens,
Like streams of light that I can taste,

Delicious.

‎'Did I leave a mark?
like a lyric burned into skin,
the graffiti of my soul
did it leave a stain?
Does it make you itch at times,
irritate,infatuate,remind you
that I was there,
that I still am'......

The Gypsy Boy,The Goddess and the Troubadour...
Did alight upon me with soft wings that night..

The Gypsy boy,the link that holds it all together,
His strength not revealing his deep,deep anguish,
His weariness of a world that tries to jade him,
it never shall succeed....

The Goddess,such soul,
I am humbled by her spirit,her love like a warmth,
She looks to the Gypsy boy,eyes bright with hope,
She knows us this Goddess,
She sees us all....

The Troubadour with his lyrics,
That share the story of who he is,
To those who may be listening,
I think I heard him amongst the fascination,
Play me Troubadour,
See the storm that is in me......

The Gypsy boy,The Goddess and The Troubadour.....
You move me......

A virtual touch
rips me wide,exposed,
filled again by the storm of his love.
A mind vast with tendrils of vision,
don't stop,I said,don't stop
I touch the skin of my throat and see his face,
don't stop,don't stop...

dazzle,daze,unfaze
strip,soak and despair
no god here but him
he rose above himself
bigger than his body
his senses soar
his hunger roars
insatiable......

Vast and sensory
feline roars and feeds,
half closed eyes
lips licking
blood rushes through me,
veins and vanity,stroked...

Le Luna sees you Gypsy boy
gazing upon you
she recognises you
like a peice of music never forgotten.

Le Luna hears you Gypsy boy
she listens as you convey your truth
she hears your silent screams.

Le Luna touches you Gypsy boy
and feels beneath your skin
your mask
feels your dreams
so tactile.

Le Luna thanks you Gypsy boy
for seeing beyond
for hearing her truth
for touching her so deeply....

Lyrics unsung
cries to the moon
dreams not yet realised
notes and nuances
dance upon the air
to be caught
so tactile
sifting through me
filling crevices
overflowing
violin strings
fragility and strength
taste,touch,sound
love.

Filthy fingernails,despicable and desperate
for clean.
Could I have known how it would end
layers of unknown stripped away
shuddering and trying to shed
the nakedness of my shame
my want of more.

dizzy with want
exposed and adored
alone and filled
with a vibration of shadows
only the blind would feel.

Tip and pour the wax
read the signs
fill the cracks
painkillers and  nature
grounded in earth and hopelessness
simple words,simplistic
apt and available
enough.

I had a friend,I heard he died
on his mistaken morals he was crucified.
He lived for but a moment
in the lines of her face
found peace there
a quiet definition of self.
Then came her tears
filled the crevices
washed him clean until his mouth filled
and he began to drown.
She had forgotten his inability to swim
watched helpless as he floated by
inarticulate and unable to save him.
She loved him in his freedom
mourns him in the knowledge
that now he barely exists.

In loose terms
in slacked mouth lies
in stretching truths
spider web fine
unfit for consumption
lines and grievances
I write with tongue in cheek
firmly held away from teeth
bared in a grimace
oh we have begun.

lines on a face
tracking years and frenzied loves
visions of such clarity
the curve of a mouth
not quite able
so very kissable
laughing at the lines on a face
well earned.

I was a passenger that day
the tourist.
Come,you said
I will take you to the trees.
You held my hand that day
as I cried for humanity
for the souls that would never feel
this place,
my tears were not enough for you that day
they were never enough.
I bled for you that day
it was only then that you smiled.

Weave and spin together
visionary east and west
meet me in storm centre
dance me to a river
cleanse me there
in moonlight do bathe me
see me
I am come home.

The curtains were stained and yellow
like his teeth,
nicotine and despair and food too heavy
his hands tremble as he lights another.
Breath rancid,eyes almost closed
he looks behind him
and sees the pain of a life lived
children lost
once removed.
Hands gnarled with meaningless labor
hold cigarrette to lips pursed
and unforgiving.

Shoulders hunched,,,life too heavy?
Embedded color,,,to keep it flowing?
Questions and vision
yet little sophistication.
Lyrics soft,,,drowned out by nervous laughter
Cover me,,place your weight upon
substance,character,integrity
Wash over me,,the flow that is
catch up,whirl around,float free
No expectation
please
See past and feel beyond
softness is stirring
touch this face
and tell me who I am.

I cut my hair again last night
thinking of you as it fell to the floor
how you loved to run your fingers through it
lift it's weight from my neck to place your lips there,
I felt tempted and malicious
as I thought of sending you the gatherings
from my bathroom floor
with no note of remembrance
knowing you would need no such note,
knowing how you would look
as my love fell to your feet
scattered on your floor.

I think I'll cut my hair again tonight.

J'ai goute' des 'etoiles,
I'm tasting stars,

Pour them unto me
milk and honey not enough
Succour me with love
not well worn phrases,
intoxicated
I drink of you,

J'ai goute' des 'etoiles...

Love aflame in cinemascope
the shape of this heart,
My woman with the wild,wild hair.

At gardens gate
I remember
there was a girl,
My woman with the wild,wild hair.

Champagne eyes
never forgotten
lines in a notebook,
My woman with the wild,wild hair.

the keening begins
mourning cry of loss
of the ungained
too much now
mouth wide
agony runs like water
spurting,hoselike
splashing the surroundings
mingles the numbness
begin to float
the pain is a pool now
float.

mismanaged prostitution
barbed wire kisses
telephone breathing
hands on white thighs
digging fingers
hardened
crows feet
crones cry
another drink
something hard to drown a sorrow
to **** a cigarrette in
lick my lips
******* revulsion..

Liquid amber eyes
scorpio sting
heart so big
beats so heavy
a different drum
fascinating rythm.

Liquid amber eyes
scorpio and strung
fine lines of derision
gazing at pictures
you Drew.

Ceremonious soul
I mock myself
just sounded right
a lion roared
random ****
justifiable homicide
delusion of beauty
too full
delicious and true.

Bruises on skin
perfect finger prints
proof that you were here
sweetest pain
pulled in breath
nails dig deeper
ripping with need
to go deeper
deeper still
scarring and tearing
crest of ever.

You said I was the closest thing you had to a home
comfort and security,strength,dependability
Then you tore me down like walls
bricks fell upon you
did you feel the screams of anguish in each cracking
every vibration, a love being ripped apart.

I had searched for you in the days before
each time a different face showing
I heard malice in the air when you whispered into anothers ear my story
not yours to tell.

Each word,every syllable you gave away
was another cut,another tear
Did you think these walls were so pliable
that they would not lose fundation
nothing left but raw exposure.

Foundations stand where you stood
of barbed wire and steel
a cemented corner that bears your name
like a headstone
Forgiveness was possible
too many times
I will mourn you as I mourn so many choices.

Hands pushed into my darkness,
and held me up to ridicule
shame.
I echoed him,reflected him
and paid a high price for the awakening.


Hands sifted through my lyrical soul
and held me up to the light
to love.
I echoed him,reflected him
and paid a high price for the awakening.

Hands reached across the cosmos
and  held me up to all I could be
me.
I echoed him,reflected him
and paid a high price for the awakening.

No hands are allowed so close now
to touch me
nor hold me.
I have been echoed and reflected
and paid too high a price on awakening.

I was singing to an Italian love song,
wondrous lyrics,
a rythm that held me within a dream.
I wrote a requiem and played it to the world
and so here I am dancing once more
to the beat of my own drum.
Lyrics cached to savour alone
the beat of this heart goes on
and on
and on
and on....

'You might find me,
with poems in my pocket,
A soul full of irony
names of lovers,
Skywriting in my mind,
each a stardust sprinkling,
of memories ever twinkling,
and there were truths,
Sifting through,
many expressed clumsily,
Beached whales drying out,
blubbering soundlessly,
Just another spectacle,
for those who do not understand,
To gawk at.......'

The table was made of wood of unknown origin.
Sanded and planed with textures and knots,chips and crevices that have been picked at by uncaring hands.
The color of the table was indecipherable,
perhaps the color of tears poured in anguish or the color of laughter,
of conversation,songs sung,secrets told,anouncements made,toasts drunk to and spilled.
Babies have been changed on it's surface,
Arms have been cut while leaning upon it supporting the need to feel.
Letters written,meals shared and eaten alone,
Tempers have flared at it's edges,fists drawn in anger,points made by hitting it's surface as if it were the other.
Decisions made,lines drawn like grains in the wood,
long lines drawn and promises broken.
I am sure as I sit as this table I hear whispers of it all,
babies,tears,love,pain,
sharing each a knot,a scratch,a patina so tactile I want to touch those whispers and feel them sift through my fingers,
Memories all,proof that we were,
That I am..............

They will come from the shadows,
the ones I have loved,
I will be clear then,
my clarity will beckon them,
like Nora,
No longer desolate with love
but as clear as the wind,
crisp and alive and free,
and the sky will rain music upon us.....

I still walk across your crooked kitchen floor,
in my fine tuned dreams,
The tiny front room where you seduced me,
with nuances of notes that have have settled on my soul
like lichen,
Filling me with hundred dollar whisky and saxaphone sound
that seemed to be tendrils that whispered through me,
It was only when I cried out with the beauty ,
that you took me trembling,
took me down to the sublime,
Wrapping me in circles of you,
turning and twisting with hard fingers,
moulding me to you,
I am still there in my fine tuned dreams,
supple in your love.....

Never a poet
but a tattooed Clown,
Laughed at,spat upon
adorned with your debris,
Waste not to be wasted
But thrown,
Hanging like a puppet
stinking and unfunny,
not ever a poet
held down....

....and so I began to speak
but my mouth stretched too wide
and you gagged
as I vomited words at your feet
But my message is incomplete,
Now your hands are upon your head
now they cover your ears
But my message is incomplete,
I was wrong in having
unjust unkind thoughts of you,
but still I repeat and repeat and repeat
like a broken manic record
My message is incomplete...

Lions eyes,cloudy yet wise
this gentle and genteel man
a mystery to me,
yet we have touched
Souls intertwined like vines
in a forest mystic,
Backs against Tingle trees,
Fifteen hundred year old texture
pushing us away
leaving imprints like scars unhealed....

In a glimpse I saw him
torn,weakened,humble and dependant,
I took him that way
there was no giving to him,
the need was too great,
sense of heightened senses,
I took him again and once more
until he was whole..

Pushing,pulling,twisting skin
she strips me bare
bones and sinew
cleaned of the debris society has thrown upon me,
trembling I waited
as her world paraded past me
to admire the work she had done,
I wait here still,
for her to complete what she has begun...

I saw her light,when she glimpsed mine,
to say I love her never seems enough
the words are apt
the depth unfathomable
like her light as she glimpsed me.
If I jump,just tumble in
surely I would drown.
I would surrennder gladly
succumb with only a whimper
because I long for her to never leave...

Alchemist make for me
conjure an elixir
that tastes of his tongue
his tenderness
his mouth.
Alchemist make for me
conjure an elixir
that smells of his skin
like the breathing of his essence
his love.
Alchemist make for me
conjure an elixir
a balm for these memories
that burn me and make me yearn.
Heal me of him Alchemist
conjure an elixir
or bring him home....

We talked about the health of Cairo
We searched the world for truth
We came thus far for beauty
and the cigarettes we smoked.
Wine and whiskey and lyrical waxing,
we exhausted ourselves of humor
of angst and rhetorical.
We talked until we were breathless
achieving no peace in  a very short time
long winded speeches of self import.
We never realised it but we were half way there
as we packed up empty bottles,ideas and butts,
Home we went
to the safety of complacent lives.

Had I the clothes of heaven,would I drape them over you,around you,
in hope that the morning sun does not fade them ,
like my dreams.
In the velvet clutch of the darkest night,
my hour of need,my dreams,my dreams,my nightmares.
Clear vision of you ,fade in the morning light
ever holding on with all,
you fade,like my dreams,
you fade away..

crushing,brushing against it,
don't lose it,the feeling,
breathe it in,rancid sweetness
evocative of yesterday
musty and mouldy,like rotted fruit,
your innermost
brick of soul,heart of wire
it runs through your fingers now
sticky sweet
try to wrap it,to warp it,to save it
last years dinner
served up to the undeserving..

Gratified and mutilated
upon the river I came
I bathed in the water
sopping,sponged and soaked
cleaner than clean
scrubbed to white bone
bliss of cleanliness
of purity
in this one moment,
Head under the water
deeper and yet deeper
blissfully clean
I let go...