Most tragedies can be avoided if people follow hindsight to the letter.

Words on the wall.
Go with Paul.
So profound.
Like a crystal ball.
Okay, all coming back.
Should have read.
Julie, will you go with Paul.
But it didn’t.
Surely a message.
A deeper meaning.
Check the celestial phone.
A message awaits.
You ***** lying scummbag, drop dead.
Should I tell her there's only one M in scumbag.
Could this be another message.
I enlighten her.
The other M is for *******.
But is it.
Is there an even deeper meaning.
The celestial phone bleeps.
I peruse the heavenly text.
Actually there should be an extra B with the extra M, *******.
I see pain in her text.
I feel it myself.
There is a wanting.
Flowers and chocolates.
I feel comfort walking through the graveyard.
Knowing random people are helping me in the pursuit of love.
I throw a pebble up to her window.
Holding my mixed bunch of flowers.
Old Mrs Jones looks down, smiling.
If I was seventy, I’d do, I digress.
I bade her in, throwing the pebble up to my true love.
Who opened the window maybe a tad too early.
She screams my name.
Which was comforting in a strange way.
Old Mrs Jones looked out, recoiling in horror, knocking herself out in the process.
I realised I had forgotten the chocolates.
Darling, could you borrow me ten pounds.
Something in her one good eye told me no.
The paramedics told me to go.
The Police read me my rights.
Putting me up for the day, and the night.
Still, as the Councilman said as I was scrubbing the wall.
It’s not like you’re Banksy, is it Paul.
I felt a deeper meaning.
A thought had occurred
It would take a lot of paint.
But would be worth the pain.
I worked through the night.
Such a delight.
I threw a pebble up to her window.
Old Mrs Jones looked down at the naked mural of me, and dropped down dead.
Julie sort of squinted in dread.
But the gun in her hand.
Well, enough said.
The Police charged me with indecent exposure.
Though the court said that wasn’t quite true.
Still, the Councilman said.
I’m really impressed.
I mean, it's different.
Maybe you should have added a verse.
He stopped me scrubbing.
We bowed our heads.
As old Mrs Jones passed by in the hearse.

The flowers are in bloom
In this majestic tree
That must have stood here
For decades
It still produces
After all these years

The dandelions gather strength
From the sun and the summer rain
The grass is greener on this side
The bushes that are to bear fruit
Pull their energy from the soil
Tirelessly filling our lungs
With clean air

The sunset is beyond compare
Painting the sky
In all variations of orange and pink
The silence of the approaching dawn
Is only suggested
By the grace of the setting sun

On the bench in this garden
Sat Death casually
Smoking a ***
With a distracted frown on his face
Waving away the passing butterfly
Coughing from the depth
Of his lungs
And spitting out the slimes.

She said I was history.
Then she said she would give me one more chance.
Then she said I didn’t deserve a second chance.
Then just as I was about to speak.
She said, I mean, who the hell do you think you are.
I was just about to say.
She said, this is definitely your last warning.
I was silent for a few seconds.
Well what do you have to say for yourself.
This is a wrong number.
What.
You’re not speaking to the guy you’re dumping.
Well why the hell did you let me rabble on.
To be truthful, I sort of get dumped a lot by phone, I just didn’t recognise the number.
That’s because you’re all jerks.
Well why don’t I take you out tonight to get over the ****.
Get knotted, consider yourself and the **** dumped.
Got a feeling she’ll phone back later and apologize, and then take me up on my offer, and when she gets to know me better.
She’ll definitely dump me.

The rain washed the blood away
And for a time I became human again
Children with dead eyes
Play amongst corpses rotting in the morning sun
A father prays to some god
Hoping for a miracle
Abound by his faith
Certainly a deeper faith than mine
For the moment only the gun is god
In these quiet times
I think of people sitting at desks
Being productive
Dreaming dreams better than mine
Building a future
The survivor alarm kicks in
I've been here too long
The scene changes
The father has found his god
For a time he becomes a soldier
Two gods about to collide
One through total frustration
The other with the dimension of time
He once read a book
The romance of war
He always thought the title should have read
The two faces of war
The bullet killed him instantly
Tomorrow he would be another rotting corpse
No romance there
People at desks building futures
Children with dead eyes play in the morning sun.

"It's the start of the end
Surrender the throne
The blood on my hands covered the holes
We've been surrounded by vicious cycles
Are we truly alone?
The scars on your heart are yours to atone"
_____________
when you build
what couldn't be built
and you make
the impossible come true
bu lose it all
to a fool's steadfastness.
Shutting out
all to come
but running
the empire of souls.
The twists
the turns
all in between.
With an empire of souls
but no love between
This empire I hold
is like a tower
fate shall decide
whether to allow it to stand or tip
This empire I hold
can take me away.
Shall I balance?
Or abide with eternity.
Love this love which shall love it's love.
Beasting the ether with more from above.
Confusing it may sound,
it makes sense to me.
because of this empire I hold to thee
Be so careful so blasphemous it seems,
how lonely light seems to gleam.
Empire,
the one I hold.
Remarking the choice to love?
Shall I, o countess?
Shall we see eachother
in the empire of love?

one must have chaos in oneself
to give birth to a dancing star

we are here
to bless                                
restore                    ­                                                              

the broken
holy
whole

mold
peace
from chaos

cradle
vulnerability
with devotion

let our love
be absolute            
unfettered

asking nothing
but to freely
speak