Sometimes I can't help but wonder
if it's worse to have a skeleton in your closet
or an urn full of ashes

These bones outlasted Halloween
My everyday is October
My ghosts follow me around the world

You may rave about spring cleaning
but some doors are best left unopened
These secrets have a stench

I've heard all the horror stories
All those bones hanging
The silence could wake the dead

Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever grow up
and stop being afraid of the dark

We are water.
We are fluid,
and bending.
We move with the ebbing tide,
and embrace the seas of change.
We are ruled,
unknowingly,
by the rhythm
of a crying moon.
We are dependent
on her love
to lead us back
from deeper waters,
to lead us back to shore,
to lead us back to you.

I see fire
burning up the roads
behind me.
It remindes me
there's nothing left,
but cinder and smoke
in the place
I used to call home.

You left me with the a bid
a bigger slice of my best
a wish me well that lingers
even longer without your love

Your unformed abrubt reasons
of tainted unsainted failed logic
a wish you well, no hesitations
on the table of untouched melodies

My walls are a brighter emerlard
with stripes of the unmissed kisses
matted with peace and liberation
of torn risks and control measures

My sad blues were washed by the rains
above the moon and over skies above
scouring, soaring, scrapping, summing
in another forever of amaizing lines

Arnold my dearest friend was 82
his soul has made a transition
through sands and vast oceans
to another dimensional paradise
he was chatty and I quiet
he was white and I black
he was old and I young
he was a man and I a woman
bonded with zest and humour

Arnold was strict and perfect
we met at local debating club
where we polished speeches
the little gems of impromptu
and the daunted evaluations
charming and complimentary
with an adventurous heart
and the pleasing easy spirit
of playfulness and success

Arnold and his plentiful gang
of competitive read speakers
always told me to slow down
I was a post-graduate trainee
wanting to brush my confidence
way back then when I stumbled
on that working men club
in the company of grey hairs
organised in eventful committees

Arnold saw roles changed
when after five long years
I was an elected president
the transformation of time
following radio interviews
back then when career drove
the foundations of many blocks
of habitual repetition and sweat
of sifting grime from the fire

Arnold always warmed up to me
kissed me on the  rosy cheek
he changed cars like clothes
and loved his dearly wife to bits
he has left a scent around my life
of a hope to love and build family
an ardent piano player and traveller
no wonder that church was so full
abundant with fond memories

our spindly legs carry us far
and brittle bones make for light cargo,
with sweeping steps and toppling grace
who cares if the skin sinks deep in our face.
you're all pigs, rolling in mud
and here we tower, watch from above
sure bones are sickly and skin translucent
what a small price to pay to rise above your dirt.