1.
Let us take the world we see and construct
a relatively yellow alternative.
Apprehend ambiguous sunsets,
And sink into the pavement of the paper.

I cannot and will not be amazed. By
the glass, But become a fragment of it.
Be eaten by its watery presence.
A fragile door shutting upon a finger.

2.
Horror fails to ferment in silhouettes
Concealed by plasticine despair.

Etched upon the hands
Of detailed
Manipulations of light.

Devices driving devotion to
Fragmentation of
Scattering. Extracting
Photons of feeling.

The city screams its insolence,
At a street too small to house the
Dead eyes walking.

Remnants,
Of ambient echoes
Across a galaxy of glass.

3.
Urban spring falls upon the blanket of night.
Stability leaks from the stained glass city.

Deceased blossoms mark
A realm of unsettling perfection,

Just beyond the threshold
of an urban inferno.

Mechanical coaxation of
Rectangular prism lives within
The confines of light.

This is a false stone hell, it says.
As ancient facets of souls scatter

The waste of a low mass star.

i never was a star
nor fell
nor in your eye
did a glimmer of me
gleam
               yet

i loved thee
O and how i did
i loved thee so
like because April rain

loves the skin of just flowers
hardly stems
with green and aching verdant
murdered night

where supremely reigns the
coy hush of shook heavens
purpled tears

O i, who loved you, did
like that improbably
like
next to a river
where you sat
wide perfect nose
bent 'pon the distillation
of a rose

who like you
beautiful
crimson lipped
bore a snare
on which wells
the split flesh of my palm
also

              crimson rain

I miss the days we'd feed the ducks,
play hide and seek and watch TV.
I miss the days we'd laugh at cats,
their little nose and tiny feet.
Those days are gone, and now we're here.
Monsters and dark were the only fear.
Our little heads were full of glee,
we could play for hours, so much to see.

But now we sit, and hope, and cry.
I wish them back, oh how I try.
We hit an age, and all is lost,
the joy we knew, not worth the cost.
I'm in the days I worry, see.
I'm in the days I care.
Why create this world around us?
At least, for me, it seems not fair.

We could drown the world in drugs, perhaps.
Lost reality, open traps.
But why dent a soul, for each is loved.
I wish, this time, I could ask above -
But that's the answer, not above.
There's always one, a soul, a love.
We know they're there, but fear to try,
to tell that love, to combat shy.

Now think back to those younger days,
lemonade, parties, we did not pay.
But of course those days could not without
a gift, a payment, a thanks, the help.
So remember my love,
and remember it well.
For when hardship returns,
you'll want something to yell.

When I decided to write my first poem, I thought back to the days,
when we were studying poetry and the teacher would amaze,
she'd make me write down words and things, I'd be chasing praise.
But looking back at my book now, I know what I should do,
and so here follows my glossary of things I'll write for you:

I have - Alliteration, Antagonist, Allegory and Anapest.
Characterisation, Complication, Convention and Connotation.
Elegy, Elision, Epigram and Exposition.
Free verse, Falling action, Falling meter and also Fiction.
Literal language, Imagery, Lyric poem and Irony.
Rising action, Resolution, Rising meter with Recognition.

Acatalectic, Anacreontic, Amphimacer and Amphibrachic.
Cliché, Common Measure, Couplets and Catalectic.
Deconstruction, Dispondee, Dialect Verse with a Dictionary.
Iambic Meter, Incantation, Impromptu with Inspiration.
Laureates and Limericks, Light Verse poems and Linguistics.
Metaphors, Mock-Heroics, Middle English and Movement Poets.

Oh gosh that seems a little worse, than I had it made to be,
I was expecting just to write a poem 'bout my cat and me.
I guess it's harder than it looks so I'll just give up now;
I'll let those big brave poet people, write them all somehow.

I'm looking for a Neurotic Girl
someone who will break down before I do
someone who's not afraid to cry,as the tea kettle boils,
after telling me about her problems.
Someone I can worry about,and do unselfish things for, and offer some comfort to,
someone who depends on me for a change.
I'm looking for a girl
who isn't too confident in herself,even though she's wonderful,
at least in my eyes.
Someone who hasn't got her entire life sorted out, just yet.
Someone who'll realise that I can be a nice person, behind the facade.

Because these days I'm wandering
from party to party
from pointless
city centre venues
and all-too-familiar and contemptible
small town social haunts
and all I see and hear
are the attention-seeking, the unreachably friendly, the distant
and the involved
All swimming in mediocrity
If you'll pardon the fake sophistication of that last metaphor
And all I'm left to do
is wonder what it would be like
to find someone
who I could be Introspective,
Debauched and Nihilistic with
A nice Neurotic Girl.

But I suppose that would invariably lead
to some sort of responsibility
in my otherwise self-absorbed existence
I would have to pretend that I am a proper kind of person
for the sake of my fragile lover's much needed feeling of security
I would take it upon myself
to go out into the world
to keep a sort of balance for the both of us
spending headache-inducing hours
with people whom I cant stand
while she sits at home
and smokes
in bed.