Even though you could feel it
                     fathomless than your soul.

We glimmered into each other's lagoons,
            and for that finite moment we
swam within the moment of the
   past,
          future,


present.

That even though you were
                bleeding out, we knew that
we were one the blade, you, me


                          us.....

I didn't pull it out,
as I knew id lose you.
               Instead, I shredded my shirt,
    collected it around the wound
that was never meant to be.

I was a killer of many dreams,
            but you were the reality that
awoke me to the possibility of u and me.

As u bled out we wrote a story of what was,
   could have been...

911 was our ring tone of love,

And the ambulance was the church bells
             of our blisful joyning.

When the investigation of our meeting was
                                                                ­    over.
We were together,
the scars of both united of us,
                                that we were meant to be.

But love has many sharp edges and we both
           had a blade under our pillows..

Sweet dreams were  balance on serrated edges

It is purest before the scratch,
A stain on white,
Like roots it grows beneath,
Not seen but  there till the
Point its pollen Comes forth,
And with each shard
Shattering on the purity, 
Till like ash crushed to black.

My thoughts are an ice cube,
Melting in the midday sun.
Mostly idle thought, that like
A stream running off to nowhere.

But then those moments of clarity,
Join a stream a particles not seen
But there.Waiting to be absorbed
Or to join a cognitive droplet.

Then free fall, landing with a gentle
Tap on my mind. No longer is it solid
But liquid dripping through ideas
And draining out in thawed form.

My lover of the night she was a biter,
what can I say I liked that way she
****** on parts other than my neck.

But I threw caution to the wind, I had
a cold, eating breaded mushrooms.
She was coming around as night fell.

Mouthwash not wanting my breath
to smell like the undead on her lips,
she is eternally flawless in moonlight.

I guide her downward towards my
stake, she can bite off more than she
chews, and then some more.

I tell her to take it in taking it all, but
then a scream as I expelled my life blood
as my fanged beauty turns to dust.

I wonder what happened no light or
garlic? then I read the empty wrapper
garlic mushrooms, this really *****..

The immobile carcasses of plastic babies
litter my child's floor, never seeking there
birth mother as she was a statue of recycled
imagery. Of illegitimate children holding this
abortion of weaved construction that sings hollow
words of  "mommy, mommy,

But they look within me, in cold eyes they stare in
to nothingness heeding the words of wanting
but their cries diminish to a silent lingering buzz.
Barely heard but I white noise succumbs to dreams
of a lonely child in stress, but recycled voice spoke.

I kicked the abortion of sickening similarity and
wonder back as the form of a child, baby, I have just
kicked. But still it weeps for a mother that is as
fake as the calls its synthetically calls upon a child.

Inanimate objects that stir in repetition, I will be long
gone when you will still whimper in a landfill,
calling in static, batteries last moments and you
still call out "mommy, mommy, no one answers your call.

It was the eve of my birth and within that
moment of creation I was a fallen as the echo
of my cries were thrown into the industrial
******* bin behind the old take-away.

My teen years were so lewd and contrived,
I thought I had friends, but I was like the
******* I was at birth they used me a threw
me away and again I was alone.

It was upon my tenth birthday that I had
lingered in this abyss long enough, I decided
on that day that I would greet those as I was
greeted to return those favours ten fold ,

My step-dad he was my first gift to my suffering
I introduced him to that pain as I quenched his
sight or lack of with a scuffed spoon rims shaper
than a blade I said words as he screamed.

"I  will scoop singular or two, depends on your taste,

Son, please listen to me, he spoke in quivering stuttered
vocals. But I thought it delightful in laughable sniggers.
See how I saw the world, feel the occasions that converted
my emotions to what I'm debilitated to this moment now.

I scooped them out like a ice cream, I thought in this
moment of Mint choc chip, and pineapple sorbet.
Mmm the taste that was seeping from lips. But that
was the blood validating itself on my skin.

All I heard was his voice crying and it made me
regurgitate what I had consumed. It was on the
floor not tasting as it went down like victory.
I just plunged the spoon into his throat...

I didn't want to taste his life, I just wanted to
watch it seep on his white chocolate shirt. It was
like strawberry sorbet with a bitter taste as I licked
a echo of it of my hand "why did I tast it at all??

I had ended so many stains on my life, took their
eyes to show them how I felt. If I had kept them
looking like pickled eggs in a jar. Thinking if they
could still see each others moments in each others sight.

I took their eyes, so each could see how it felt for what
they put me through. I had no guilt, I just consumed
everything they saw and laid it to rest. I wasn't killing
I was just releasing their  guilt and consuming it all.

In exhalation
                       my life
was breathed
        on all I knew...

Neanderthal thoughts,
Grasp hardened, knuckles release,
Brutalities mist.

Little bear* eyes OPEN
Little bear everything SEEN
Little bear held so TIGHT
Little bear keeping me SAFE
Little bear my only FRIEND
Little bear shares BRUISES
Little bear held up PROTECT
Little bear thrown ASIDE
Little bear  "HELP ME"
Little bear witnesses TEARS
Little bear sees EVERYTHING
Little bear now buried with ME
Little bear I wish you could have *helped me.

My mind is a cauldron of
thought, always is some
thing spilling out, I have
to be carful and not let
them spill on the floor

Never to be an idea spoilt
in dirt. I just skim the foam
of thought that boils forth
and then sip to make the
thought an idea.

For while my cauldron of
thought, is stocked by the
flames of letters burning
that saturate in to the cauldron
to boil in to thought.

For this is only a time of ideas,
for the flames may one day only
glow, not burn and the cauldron
may only simmer and ideas not
full but not cold.

Till the day the fires again once
stoked, and the ideas boil with
thought I must capture that
which boils to skim it for
thoughts to become ideas or more..

I wished to keep your fragile beauty
Static never to shatter moulded perfection
In stillness was your form suited most.

I kept you safe entombed in bubble wrap,
You had breathed before, but your exhales
Did fill the spaces that keep beauty frozen.

I will never let your allure depart even
Though, thought wasn't in your control
Anymore, I am your saviour forever more.

I cant resist the urges to look upon my
Figurine, a first edition, beauty now sealed.

incandescent gleam
obscurity fills blank voids
blanket of heaven

Rusty you hide your
Self silently in the woods,
Watching the passing of
Time as nature touches
Upon your body work.

You are from a forgotten
Age of style, now an echo
Of past glories, as your
Tires flat and degraded
Your going no where fast.

A gem in the rough, gold
Worthy of rust, you feel
As this was your graveyard,
But eyes have seen your
Potential, seen beyond the
Surface, beyond your rust.

You will soon ride the road
Once more, you feel the
Air once again flowing over,
The road beneath you, speed
A rush as before, even though
the trailer is coming you can
Smell the tarmac of the road.

The killer is in a hidden room
                               where he rests,
Outside false faces are woven to meet
the needs of normality.
But when he awakens
they descend like petals and they blossom in blood,
will he feed on your nectar
             or will you be the flower that wilts in decay.

Observant misconstrued glances weaving conclusions
of what is above your paygrade of perceptiveness.
imperfections of what you glance upon.

A child in the confinement of misunderstanding,
Only the turbulence of reality like ocean waves.
Solitude of emotions then surges of confusion crash.

Lost in the tall trees of emotions as the leafs of
disorientation venture to cloud a mind of needed calm.
The conciseness needs the rhyme of routine to balance.

Heed this thought those of ill-conceived notions that
when this little miracle has a moment of uncontained
emotion, it is not for your misconceived wordings.

"My little one mummy is here, daddy too,
"Hear our voices like a calm ocean over you,

A mother embraces the worries of your thoughts,
easing the confusion of the world away..
Others may stare in ignorant stances.

*"But nothing is wrong with you, you're our baby
cuddling the confusion of your surroundings away.

We where strangers
              that slept within
                             each others arms..

And we ended up
         knowing each other deeply..


As we screamed other peoples
                   names out..

We laughed,
      and took each
               others numbers.

My brothers and sisters
My family of a million
With but one name
"Ant how you doing"
"Is there and  Mr A ant here"

We all walk the walk,
We all talk the talk,
But I want to be more,
But family is everything
In our kingdom all are one.

Cant I be more than a worker
Cant I be more than a warrior
Cant I be a hippopotamus
A kangaroo,
A duckbilled platypus
Ok, ok I went a little too far.

My queen is our mother
Creator of us all,
Speaks to us in the great hall
"My children"
"You do a mother proud"
"Remember we are one"
"But we are singular to ourselves"

Mother is right I am me, not the
Same, but we are family. We are
Individuals but part of something
Bigger, I walk off happy in my hill
Knowing that I am more when I
Have my family.

"Hi Ant"
*"Right back at ya Ant-on"

My dog its name is Gizmo with a capital G, he isn't
very tall and not very long. He's very playful doesn't
always listen to what he's ever told. But it's like his name,
as others have said so. If somethings missing the blame
would always be on him, to this hairball this is just a game.

His favorite season for walks is when autumn comes to call.
The puddles on the floor and the leaves on the ground, all
he wants to do is be playful in the heaps of color and crawl.
Beneath them playing hide and seek, but he is always so
easy to find, following his lead a tail-wagging to and fro.

He never misses a puddle, his hair soaked, and has very
muddy little toes, chasing all the birds, but he's not scary
at all. They fly away squawking and he just looks at me
then runs around again chasing nothing at all. We see
in the distance home letting off the lead, he runs in glee.

Towel now around him, drying him quickly off. As his wetter
than a puddle. Shivering we give him a cuddle, feeling better
he now falls asleep upon his bed. Five minutes of peace before
he gets his energy back, and then a zoomy around the floor,
and then I'm like, has anyone seen my sock?      Gizmo!!

I have a little friend that lives
within my beard, she is my
morning wake up call as she
pecks and chirps in my ears.

People think it may be strange
to have a little bird in my beard,
but she never goes hungry, as she
cleans all the crumbs from
my breakfast, lunch and tea.

I have a smile each and everyday,
for when I look in to the mirror, I
see her in her nest beard, looking
back at me.

So if ever walking and see me talking
and chirping, know I am not as
crazy as I seem, I'm just chatting
to my friend who lives within my beard.

"I'm a father, and I don't do a few things.

A father doesn't babysit his kids,
            what are you part time?
Wake up, if your thinking this,
your not father material
                    your a ***** bank for hire.

I don't get drunk in-front of my kids,
                     you slurring your words.
Anger making you lash out.
           That's a problem,  you see
       love is kindness, not anger and grief.

"I'm a father and I do a few things right.

A father reads to his kids, imagination
            ignited in little minds.
    
"ROAR" went the dino baby as
    it showed mummy and daddy
its new voice that it found.
   Trees trembled and the earth
             did jump for this little dino
showed off the voice
                          "ROAR" it never knew it had.


A father looks after them when there sick.
                           Team mummy and daddy.

Snooty Maggie,
                    that's mummies section.
Green little monsters popping out of noses,
slim trails on white tissues, so gross.
                           Buggers make daddy heave.

Pukky Pedro,
now this is daddies area.
         scrap the chunks,  
         clean the sheets, give them a shower.
Now get the bucket, that rests next to the
                                                 little ones bed.
Sleep my baby, mummy and daddy are close.

A father is meant to show love,
                                    don't be a part timer.
Were meant to be proud of what we have or had
with the love of our life.
                        We created someone,
who will bring a smile to eithers face just with a look.

I tied you to the boot of this stolen car, what a pile
of rust but beggars cant be choosy, you do beg but I
chose this place specifically don't worry I tied you
to an old fords car door,  let the fun now begin.

I put the peddle to the metal, I hear you screaming in
anticipation of what happens next. Got to love speed
bumps, 30, 40, 60 then I brake just before swerving
so you sail past then you fly. Screaming all the way.

"I found ford doors have the right weight ratio to land
door side up Skoda's, Audi,
"No,
"The mess of so many to clean up road pastry is not the
easiest to clean away, slinters in my fingers hurt like hell ,

They fly through the air I see them just before some with
eyes closed fear etched on the sweat dripping or is that
tears? I put a three pronged circle to see where they finish
up. Each has a consequence, red, orange and green.

"You land in the outer dam, out comes the penalty stick,

Not many survive that, as I am angry for ill landings a lack
off at least trying, I warn them but some just cry till I give
them a good few whacks. I know silly but I do little sound
effects "bang, bang, splat, then silence and twitching

"Bang, "I hate those that just linger and twitch die already,

Now orange that's ok at least the next one tried, but not hard
enough,I give you a two pronged choice, gouge your sight out
with a spoon or a fork "what at least I'm giving them a choice,
now they scream but some got ***** it must be said.

Some do it, see no evil you know what I'm saying hanging tears
of claret weep from there now semi vacant sockets, and still
they try to blink "look at me, as their head rise, but their still
staring at the floor and I prune the with but two snips. Some
survive others just clutch to a chest and like that "DEAD,

Now those that survive, well lets just say I am a man of my
word I put them in the car to the safety I promise, I talk to
them but understandably their not in the talking mood,
I give them water to hydrate and replenish lost liquid that
has others wise bleed slowly out, and some even say "thank you,

Now what can I say luck, skill, survival instinct but so few have
done it, like a four leaf clover they land in the pastures of green.
I jump up and down like a child at the fair who just won the
big dinosaur on the very first try, punching the air and a very loud
"Hell ye that's what I'm talking about baby,
Then kiss um on the forehead, lips are to personal for my profession.

I tell them what skills what entertainment for some as twisted as it
seems liked what I did, a few even asked for double or nothing.
But luck only goes so far and then the regrettably the penalty stick
came out, I do the sign of L on my forehead then their silent once again.

But those who sighed with relief, as I promised were released, at the
end of a gun mind you a bottle of water given gratefully drank,
then on their merry way, I bid them fair well and as that they never
Divulge this incident as I have their wallets, purses even email
you never no maybe bored and recollect our good times past tense
of course for we all must face what is inevitable,

"Life is moments, where death is a breath that will always last,  

But as is death, freedom is a fleeting moment, and a mind changes
like the wind different direction, different path. Trial and error were
key, things that mattered "weight, height, ***, all factors in the
end result of what is like a momentary freedom to the air then
realization as they descend to a finite moment of death.

I always picked those that drove, why easier to cover tracks of
what was perused in my desires for a unique way to challenge
others need to survive. To breath another moment to exist in this
time of now not to pass. But life is fickle and my fun must last.

I always made sure that they drank the water, a necessity of
what came next ever drop drank, if denied then you guessed
it, penalty stick then "Dam, I do love my sound effects.
But released those with sight no knowledge of their ill fate.

Those I killed in the drivers seat pick a place where
gravity would take president in this delicate manoeuvre
so that they would go through what was needed a accident
of fatal consequence. Then on to the living that was next.


Like jack they rolled down the hill till unconscious they fell,
this little automobile swerving,  ricocheting off boundary and
wall till wheels graced air and the reeve of the engine heard.
A little gift of what was left in the boot a full tank of petrol
and the lid so loosely covered, accidents do happen.

I did one more thing I doubt they noticed there cigarette
lighter engineered to be so slightly hot, just like porridge
to hot would be seen and felt, to cold and would be a waste
of battery not enough, but warmth enough to ignite an
accident in the back and I firework of flames birth forth.

Some exploded they were the best, while others tumbled
flame and wreckage spread out what a mess. I always chose
the location, never the same suspicion would fall and my
fun would expire and probably my life snuffed out in a
breath. always cliffs near by and wall was best.

Now I bid you farewell as other circles must be drawn.
New doors must be had, who will hit the bulls-eye or
who will fail the test. I'll try two doors at once spice
up life's fun a little who will hit green and who will
be the one who twitches and then "Bang, silence is best.

Upon the blackened reeds
She sits upon her throne
Where all is blackened roots.

She is the angel among
The darkness sitting, watching
Upon her blackened throne.

The days are of no consequence
But in darkness the world
Is real. She bides her time,
Woman upon a darkened throne.

She waits passionately for
The fall of man, and
The rise of the true leaders,
Obscured by man, she
Sits, she waits upon her
Lonely throne.

Beyond repair
              they said.

But I saw more.

So I wove gold
        within the cracks
sealing heartache

to make your
flaws
         beautiful.

Imperfections are elegant.

I look in to the mirror of
tomorrow, and see what
my future self is like, a
moment to see what has
shaped my life.

To see those moments that
made me young with a smile
spread across my face, but
the moments that aged me
for longer that what youth got back.

I look at my reflection of a
future me, and its me really
looking back at my youth
remembering what I was like.

Those moments I cant change
like my refection as glimpse of
a past a future moments, which
cant change just a refection
of my life.

Passion upon sins,
Flesh nectar of love tasted,
Thirst quenched upon lips.

Though we wish,
             can we ever find our
                    prince charming..


A shoe may fit, but is it comfortable.


And our happy ever after is but a moment,
         of chemical imbalances before we realise.
  

That we should have smashed
                                  the happy ever after.  
As glass always cuts deep
                                   it only takes time.

I am the embodiment of all
things good and trustworthy,
I have a devilishly seductive
smile.

Come on you know you can
trust me, look in to my eyes,
there hypnotizing wouldn't
you say.

''yes I understand''  

You know what to do, just sign
on the dotted line, repayment in
ten years then you owe what is mine.

'' I'll sign so it can be mine''

Sign in red on the dotted line,
as he smiles with a raised eyebrow
the deal nearly sealed, you can
trust me, as the black feather tip
scratches across the line.

I am the embodiment of all things
good and trustworthy, he says
and the deal is done, devilishly
he smiles, see you in ten years,
trust me ill back now the deal is done....

My thoughts like light
they flow and hit the
prism of the mind, where
once there was indiscriminate
thoughts now they collide.

They branch of to be a dense
thought a colour of emotion,
of ideas and moments of thought
turned vocal, no longer a
a thought words spoken from
what they were before.

Random is the incoherent thought,
until they hit the prism of the mind,
which colour will be released. An
emotion, a tear released or a solid
thought, for all must pass the prism
to become a solid thought.