She plucked his fingernails
            gently out,

                 he loves me,

                                  He
                             loves
                        me

not..

The pollen of love filtered from
            everyone discarded..

Pulses raised with
each one
           harvested.

The dander was sodden,
               but still she needed to
know..

Does he love me, does he not...

And after every petal was gently
                                        discarded,

You thought that the only way
                 to no was to cut the stem..

Looking to his surroundings,
            a jar of nails...

How many had been planted here
                                               before..

Like a daffodil popping off,
                        she was out cold..

He'd been like a seed floating in the air,
       what some would catch to place a wish.
                          his was to land upon her jaw.

                                              He fell,
the roots that bonded him fallen.
            And he ran out in to the wilderness.

Floating in and out of consciousness,
                                       but he was free..

Doodles have more meaning ramblings
                                    than any art...

For they are the form
            of an active unbiased  mind.

                          Showing
                                    the
reality
               of those misshapen
                  misunderstood ramblings.

Till you step back
                          and delve deeper
and see the reality of originality

If my metaphors
were pennies in a jar..

I would have
       only a button

resting upon its side.

But though the holes
the sun does glimmer...

And four rainbows
              birth from those
hollow moments of contemplation ...

We don't need riches to show
             how colourful our words

can be..

But I do always wonder where the
                    button that held in my
analogies  
                              popped off too.
As  I'd eaten to many metaphors
                                             before lunch..

For some may think it of ******
                    but to protect the innocence
some blood may fall.

But when one is only bending
                            a knee to show,
that they may partly descend,
           but will always stand up taller.

We must see that some times the glasses,
               are tinted and we are in fact the extension
                                             of not our ideals
but ones who only see no further than there power.

Mindful of others, but always deeper in thought.
You call it the folly of an inquiring mind,

Concern some may say diving to deeply
unsure of where this may take me.
Regarding the complexity of a frame.
I just see more than those who
open a door, and only see the other side.
So if the the hinges hold it what was behind.
Is it wrong to have an interest in more
than what others see as normal without
yearnings to find out what was, what's more.

Where I wished to delve deeper was only
an excuse for others to want it to wither.
never would I intrude, but my searching
eventually causes some unintended pain.
So I relent, I'm curious of the outcome some say.

She wore a tiara
           of pearls

        dripping from
her forehead.

As one fell on her tongue,
   She licked  her lips..

Tastes like love...

I repeated every lesson,
          hearing every drowning
word...

Every syllable that was recast,
       but I never learnt a single...

done over,
                        duplicated..

Reproduced as another version of
              the same verse..


Everything was!
                refashioned,

redone, remade..
   In the fashion of what was before.

But even though I sat in every class..

        I never took a single word in..


The teachers changed, but I remembered
                     that one who made me resit


every lesson....

I cant see anything in this crammed space...

                    But hopefully one day some
one will cover me for a toilet break..

And I'll be peace....


I resit every lesson and still
                      all I see is deathly words..
                                       Never heard,
   but reverberating though hollow bones