A vessel of infinite imaginings woven
in the kaleidoscope of innocence,
seeing you for that moment,
as life breathed you into my arms.

Fluid motions of gratitude, as noses
met and a smile versed on daddies
eyes. Wonderment that this innocence
had a mothers beautiful eyes.

You were a little box of crayons,
the randomness of your expressions
drew smiles upon a grateful parents
faces, gazed at you with gleeful reflection.

You were a gift to our memory, a story
to verse on your years yet to pass.
Your our little box of crayons, waiting to
see which colours draw upon our lives.

When we where young,
           we would climb trees.
And now where older and
            we never climb anything.


We reached so far beyond our grasp.
               But then we grew wiser,
beyond our years.
              

But then we fell in days,
            we gained the wisdom
that trees grow and we shouldn't.


But this is where the acorn fell,
          never growing to there potential.
All acorns grow and fall a length.

I could climb higher than my height,
        never letting others say that I shouldn't.

Climb higher than the length of your growth..

Always climb higher,
              as we may fall...
              But we will always climb higher
                           than when we fell before.

The Easter bunny did hop
through the window in
to my house, he did hold
a knife to my throat, and
asked where I hide all his
children of chocolate through
out my house.

I showed the bunnies but
I had bit all their heads,
****** all the good parts
out, the bunny looked at
me enraged and asked if
I was sick in the head.

There chocolate you fool I
said, but the bunny stabbed
my ankles and as I fell to the
floor with one swing off came
my head.

So now do you think its funny to eat
a bunnies head, my wife came down
and found a bunny eating half a
chocolate human head....

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.

When I'm down the sun never
seeks the sky.
                          Just a dullness
that hovers  beyond the grasp
              of my need to rise above

my pain...

I only needed that ray to hit upon my
                                 sighs...

                         I need to not hurt like
before, I cant keep this smile aloft..

It's falling like a shooting star,
   bruised when it hit the ground
             never again found.

   I'm dwindling like the stars caught
                 between the dawn and nightfall.
But never
            a light flickering before its
radiance is just an echo like me..


You'll find me, that star that fell,
        but never wished upon.

Just cold never seen,
               here but missed,
   as I fell from a moment of height
  to a place where I'm low and alone.

The restrictions upon my self
worth, never the right, write,
              wording, metaphor

of what I wish to show you, u, me.

That even though I don't cry or
                scream, I'm swaying

every sentence I write, right to  
the point that there was never
a chair to hold words.

Instead, I bleed my word, pain
with every stanza that collected
beneath holding me up.

Until I wrote so much that there
wasn't just air beneath me but solid
              meaning wanting to
hold me higher than that which
may make me fall...

Souls shaded outline
Ash parchment descending slow
Heavens light burnt bright

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.

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.

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.

It was the children I tell you,

"That was my last moment as a free bird,
"Now I sing behind caged walls.

They were there in the moments of my spiral of despair,
I first heard them, saw them when I took the bottle.
Counting them like sheep,
1 sheep,
2 sheep,
.
.
.
.
.
.
32 sheep more.
Then I stopped momentarily.
The world was a mirage of my thoughts as I threw the
empty bottle of whiskey on the floor. Lets spin the bottle
see where it lands, I watch it rotate on empty odours.
Then it lands base up, I stare into the white emptiness
above my head and see nothing. Fluke of the spin I thought
till my eyes descended down.

"Hi Elizabeth such an old name, for such a young soul,

She must have been no older than ten, OK, the tablets
are making me see things I thought in my mind?

"No Elizabeth there right here,

Partly dissolved white stones linger in her palms, why did
she do that? and how did she know that these were buried
within me. I thought for a moment then asked?

"What do you want from me? why would you save me?
"I was ready to leave this place to sleep in oblivion,

"Were not letting you go yet, we have things for you to do,

"Why would I do anything for you child?

Because I'm not a lone,

"Around, around we go, while were here you'll never go,
"A tablet will never fall, a wrist no blood will kiss the floor,
"You'll hear us whether night or day,
"We'll visit you in slumber and seed your dreams what may,

"Why would you do this,

Then the world became a spin cycle and It was the 90 degree
wash, I woke up sweating, my clothes dishevelled.
I was clasping onto a empty whiskey bottle huddled onto
it like it was a favourite teddy from when I was young.

"Jesus that was one weird whiskey educed dream,

Getting up I noticed what was a jingling sound in the base
of the bottle had I put a ring in the bottle again? I looked,
my skin shuddered and my eyes widened as I saw what
must have been at least forty tablets laying in recesses
of the bottle. I turned  my head to the floor throwing up
what whiskey still lingered in my stomach,. What the hell
had I been thinking?

Footprints so many footprints in a circular dance, and two
more just static in the centre, I looked at my feet I still had
mine on I throw them off in haste, or was it fear? I measured
them in size to mine and they fit like gloves a perfect mould.

"No, no that was just a messed up dream,

"It wasn't our Elizabeth,
"Who the hell ar......,

I wake up again my clothes dishevelled but this time
an added bonus blood, what the hell happened I
thought. I checked myself over and to my amazement
none of it was mine which left me to the more panicking
thought who's was it and where had it come from?

******* I feel sick as I assume that this is one
persons hardened essence now secreted on my being.
I shower and then dry off, I run to the toilet as I *****
multiple times, I cant remember ever eating that?
Where had I been? how long had past in missing time.

I just binned the evidence there was a communal burning
bin. I waited till it was dark, I knew one of the  lights was
temperamental at best so i waited till it failed...

"Come on go out,

I thought aloud, then like a fading star it did the usual.
Flickered and like an ebbing star slowly died out . I ran
like it was a race for life, I'd put lighter fluid in the bag
and threw it in.

"I missed,
"I missed, what the hell,

The light flickered on again I was out of the reach of
its view and noticed another come towards the flickering
embers.

"O' crap o' crap,

Thoughts collapsed like dominos in my head, then he picked
the bag up and all I heard was, "Messy ingrate cant even throw,
Then like in slow motion it glided like a wingless crow in to
the fire. Within moments the bag ignited like a phoenix he lit up.

It was like nothing I had seen before he had stood to close to
the fire when he'd throw it soaked in liquid it went up as well
as him the surprise on his face was intoxicating i watched as
he danced the tango of death.

Then I snapped out of it fumbling to get my phone,  but this
moment passed and he was lifeless smouldering on the ground
I could smell him cooking slowly. I ran inside, grabbed my phone
again to ring the police.

But I looked down and it was still recording.

"What I cant remember pressing that,

"We did it Elizabeth,
"So you could watch your work over and over again,

"Your not real, your a child,

"O'dear elzabeth if that's true then you did this all,

I rewound the video, wait there was more than one?
I watched each of them horror spread like an extinguished
Sun as darkness consumed it. But I felt myself smiling,
I looked in the mirror and they were there all of them.

Counting them like sheep,
1 sheep,
2 sheep,
.
.
.
.
.
.
32 sheep more.
I had closed myself in the bathroom, locked them from view, it
wouldn't be long now. I awoke again, sluggish to my surroundings.
I was again in bed my clothes as the night before, holding a *****
bottle empty and Ii looked slowly and there were 31 pills and a note
on the side.

"We left one in so you could have a good sleep,

I threw the empty bottle and clinging note into the fire, i could
hear that song that I first heard. "Nnoooooooooooo, "No,
I ran for the kitchen for a knife, then I heard a knock at the door?
Within moments it was off its hinges and I was running at them
knife raised, I thought death at last, but instead 10,000 volts I felt.

Awakeing i heard voice not the childrens but others,

"Hello,
"Is anybody there,

A hole opened and two eyes so caring looked inward,

"Hi Elizabeth, your in Hardy Oaks mental asylum,
"We saw your tapes, your a poorly girl it seems,

"It was the children I tell you,
"That was my last moment as a free bird,
"Now I sing behind caged walls.

The hole slides shut and then I'm alone, but
they are here with me I could scream, but I just
watch then encircle me, and sing their endless lullabies.

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.

This wasn't what he'd expected, since a wee little one,
       contorting the edges of fallen wood made thin.
What was rectangle became a triangle,
           what was just plain became more.

No fingers were used, a mind is a wonderous thing,
                                 Never wasted on this little one.
    
Creation, Imagination, as parchment clean crisp,
contorted to conception. But when it went wrong
            it rained snow flakes of ruptured imaginings,

Jagged and torn, papercutting those close.

Tears fell from his eyes as sorrow for skin bleed
not deep, but any more would have been a torment.

A thousand papercuts from a moment of
            frustration could turn paper crimson.

From that interim, knowing the power paper
had, be it words shapes, meaning.
       Learning that contours have potential and
wording on it was a powerful influence on others.

So began his journey as origami butterflies
             fluttering around him, calmness followed.
            Here child, as he handed a swan, and it swam
upon the innocence of there hand, and he walked onward.

Luck has to be earnt,
    Never given.

So go out
and make
          yours happen.

Harvest was but days ascending upon thoughts,
It wasn't long till all were called forth, each of age
Helped out. Birth age was a right in this time.

We counted on the calendar as each night fell a
Dawn drew ever closer near. it beckoned those, most
Excepted sombre times, tears did gracefully fall.

Accountable to the masses as times before, has this
Been set in lore, in legend of the before,  not breathed.
But ages grow fearful of the approaching present.

It hung low as if bleeding upon the landscape, It
beckoned the time of offering of moments when
Each pride was offering a cull of silent young.

They took the offering as every time, we wept
Anguished tears, but all was falsehood of past
Blood moon thanking's we weren't taken ourselves.

Three thousand and sixty five moments will the night
Grace the sky. And many blood moons shall call not
Taking mine, till that moment we will temp our time.

You tried
          to cut
            Me with words.

But not one
            Drop fell..

For your knife was
                    Blunt.

And your words were
      Nothing but air.

All I wanted was a single
pair, is that to much to ask
as I search my draw this
is driving me insane I'm
pulling out my hair.

I only brought some a
couple of days ago, and
now they have got separated
in my draw. How can they
vanish in to thin air, how can
there be so many singles and
not a pair.

I have green, yellow, marvel
but they are single not a pair,
I may have to wear mixed but
that goes trough me as there not
the same. People look at my feet
and see yellow and pink giving
me a funny stare.

Dam you sock monster eating
singles with out a care, couldn't
you eat in pairs so at least I would
not look stupid when I take off
my socks, am I the only one that cares

Let me flick your bean
              Till you grow peas
                             Of ecstacy.
And I swallow everyone
                                 Moistly.

Poetry
           is
Like
         Cooking,
We
       May
All
         Use
The
       Same
Ingredient's,
                     But
It
           Is
The
                 Quantity
And
             Taste
Of
             Each
   One
That
         Makes
   Each
Morsel
                   Melt
In
             The
Mind
           A
Different
                     Way....

The wows of society
are just trees
           that we wish  
                        to grow
in our wallets

But only
           seeds  
of debt fall
    from its branches

Smiling in this moment of love,
pollen brings alleges.
A sneeze pressures
her secret to fall
with a clang.

Vibrating *******, blushful innocence revoked.

I have been on the road for so long, what's it been,
"Weeks,
"Months,
"Moments?
Who knew,since magi had birthed on to the world chaos
Had ensued on a global playground. I remember an old movie

"God I miss the movies,  
"With power there is responsibility of will,

Will power was the key, if you were ill of conviction
It consumed you, each burnt different. I remember
Seeing some gathered when it took upon them.

It was like a rainbow, like spirits ignited. momentary
Beauty in all aspects. Then the screams, like they were
Aware that it wasn't just their bodies but that they were
Burning soul, flesh all was consumed in magi flame.

I don't know if you could call it good or evil but it was
Survival, the old ways were obsolete. There we norms,
And enlightened? if you could call us that, words even
Simple ones were amazing, imbued with essence power.

Some only had to think and auras of essence flickered
On steady hands, it was amazing, with movements
That flowed weaving intricate designs synergies were
Compelled and movement and words became as one.

"Jesus I hate walking though the old city streets,
"I can sense their essence,
"Enlightened can sense each other in some degree,

The decay in these majestic building so many vacant
White tombs, they fed of the residual aura of what happened
That day, many were set ablaze mass funeral pyres.

"The skies glowed red for days,
"Flames touching the heavens themselves,

There is much anger in these places mortal, and enlightened
Steer clear, in the night as auras permeate the surrounding

"I hear something?
"Hello who goes there,

Words I hear even though not spoken. These are dark
Even more than the midnight sky I walk under.

"I hear you, show yourself,

"Aren't we a powerful little one not many can hear unspoken,
"These places are a playground of rage and anger,

He had such a arrogant tone, I have seen others like him.
Thinking they have a right to taunt the dead with promises
Of life, but it is unfounded. They are just puppets on entrains
Strings bonded with words. Sealing them, suffocating within.

"I have no fear of your creation,
"You have twisted a gift, made it unclean,
"The dead should serve no one let them rest,

My words go unheeded, I know this will be a fight to the
End, only one will make the journey onward on this path.
I scrunch my fingers, each cracking, ready in anticipation,
In knowing what is to come. I sense the fluctuation around.

From beneath the ruins of what looked like a heavens building
(Skyscraper) it bellowed forth eyes aglow. I sensed its
Consumed resentment of slumbers awaking, it grabbed
What was twisted beams of rusted metal and rock.

"Be gone slumber once again in ethers sleep,

I tried a banishment spell as the words first too weak
For the anger that breathed.

"The first angel sounded his trumpet, and there came light
And chains Mixed with purity , and it was hurled down onto
The earth a prison of release is cursed!"

" Your in over your head little girl.

But I noticed upon its brow glyphs of resistant's, this arrogant
One, not so as I had thought. I noticed from where it clambered
The fallen of before, I was not its first battle. Maybe I would
Not be its last, calm thoughts as it swung nearly taking me apart.

"I will dethatch this creation from this realm,
"It will slumber in eternality's evermore,

Spells I eased on thought and hand,

"Flames entwined on wicks birth, feel rages creation  
From earth, burn in silence burn in air, enlightened in
A suns extinguished birth,

The air crackled as earth turned red, molten rock,
Erupted and white bone crackled under the heats
Relentless grip, now for the opposite to shatter its curse.

"Winters howl beckon my call, A single snow flake shall fa,

I do so hate being interrupted I heard his words spoken,
In silence. A blinding glyph summoned forth. I had moments
To defend, or unseen was my fate and then deaths hand would
Grant what this thing was unwittingly birthed to heed.

"Let light blaze the mists of unseen thoughts, let there be
Sight be seen no darkness's curse,  

Now I'm angry, what kind of arrogant, egotistical **** hole
Thinks that they can do that to me. Time to finish this, I
Use what I have learnt mastered well, I was one of those
In womb when magi birthed. We are only few but we are
As part imbued not only in word but bloods life essence.

"Winters howl beckon my call, A single snow flake shall fall,
Shatter on earth like glass you will keep,

It was a hard thing to do but to meld two thoughts as one,
I worded it in strength first freeze them then eternities tomb.
"Only to be used on undead,
Never the living as it would fold back and dam the herald that
Spoke the words to a fate worse than death.

"Winters howl beckon my call, A single snow flake shall fall,
Shatter on earth like glass you will keep,
"Let that which was twisted now be granted eternities tomb,
"Earth calls upon your slumber now be granted,
Rest in the toils of soils keep,

And with that moment it shattered as earth creaked and took
What was taken now in its tomb of slumbers keep.
Where darkness was birthed souls rested and bones neat.
We took our paces drained where both as such focus needed.

"Your abomination conceded to a fate worth its keep,
"Now its only us do you concede to fates wish,

It was a long shot but you never know, maybe he would of
Conceded in graceful defeat. "So going to fight dam,
His muttering edged forth a spirit blade, we all have an
Aura and our physical presence births the colour of
Physical forces we bring into our world,

"What a big sword you have, compensating for much,
(I giggled loudly, he asked for that)

"Magi filth, I will end you as my pet failed my will,
"I have taken many and will take many more,

Flames of onyx and luminosity bathed the surroundings
As each of us gauged each others strengths, his blade
Glanced on my arm , searing pain greeted as veins
turned black. We fought I glanced upon his self, but he
Just looked smiled and ****** time after time at myself.

But he was weakening to much had he relied on spirit
And not himself. I ****** upon his being in one last fatless
Blow, His sword shattered in shards of spirit he was cut.
He bleed slowly not blood but essence of himself.

"This cant be your but a girl,
"I will beckon my spirit to the fallen I will live on,

"Can you hear my thoughts?

"No why would I need to heed your contemplation,

"I just sealed your thoughts none shall escape,
"You will pass into the ether there to stay,

"I will not go like this, do you realize who I am,

"A dead man,

And with that I walked off no longer a threat, just a
Dying magi, with moment left to contemplate what
Was done. A noise heard as I walked off, I thought
Of not turning, of not giving satisfaction on a fallen.

"What do you wither about, in dignity fade out,

But my eyes did see what ailed him so, for where his
Essence did bleed upon the patch his creation fell in
Earth it rested but it wanted one more to join its kin.
Swallowed up then silence and gone. He joined those
That had heeded his worded will.

"Daylight beckoned as I walked on the city even though
In ruin had a certain beauty in its collapse,

I walked onwards nursing wounds with word, healed
But still hurt. That was a battle I wish not to repeat. I just
Want to wonder and meet those of norms and magi and
Live in harmony and peace. But remember all, there is
Much power in the world with word and thought.

Do you recognise the ****-wit the
one that takes it on the glass jaw.

The muppet on the string that clings
to the façade of ill positioned words.

Weep for the words that are constructed
like a three year old in nursery time.

Can you read your own reiterate its  
confused like there many thoughts.

Play with there feelings, don't succumb
to the forlorn words they spread idiotically.

There is a ****-Wit in all of us, we take it sometimes,
but others are just ******* more or less.

My incoherent rantings upon this white,
tainted by my virulent thoughts expelling out.
I leap at echoes of what may have been cognitively
expelled but never given true form.

"I just lingered my mind in the air like a net catching
stray speculations that were never musing,

I never understood why infuriated wording
was not given form, why I lingered outside my
window like a peeping tom. Waiting for those
Drifting inconsolable lost thoughts never given form.

Some were so sullen a tear would edge closer to
my yearning of falling but then I'd catch and devour
it. Swallowing that sorrow to feel that pain needed
to ink better vocabulary then I had penned before.

"I hear things in the night, feverish dreams of inscribing,

I understand my conclusion of what I am spilling in
irrational contemplations, that wield meaning of
what should lucidly be realized within my words.
But my ink is waved upon as to complex in thought.

"I am a man with no water yet I am drowning,

Can I be enthusiastic in my wonderings of captured words,
expelled but never used. I hoard them within me, so others
may not take what I thought what I took from the breeze.
I think I'm cognitive, but others think I'm rabid in inducing.

If i was one,
          I'd tie a knot
in myself...

To remind me,
  where the front
starts and the back ends...

I  just need fingers to
                tie myself up..

Now that's a whole other
             idea for another time...

I sit next to you and you smile awkwardly,
not knowing the intentions that simmer
within my cerebral cortex,
Neurons spark and I smile with devious  
intentions, I ask you simplistic questions

"So why you here forlorn,

Waiting for those two syllable words "I'm alone,

"No one should be lonesome,

Then walk off to follow you in later moments,
I can smell the fear of thoughts that embed on
the surrounds. You should nervous, you had
me sitting next to you. But wait a minute like
Vultures others yearn for that which is singular.

Can they smell the imminent  ending of a life,
conceding to that moment of who will take this breath.
Me, them, you? untold possibilities but only
one ending different face but the ending is the same.

I follow like a panther after is prey, I watch from a
distance upon my eyes they wonder so contact never
gazed upon but my sights are focused on your demise.
But one does fly upon the honey then the trap in done.

"Police freeze,

Gun shots ring out like church bells, then I'm clipped
by violent actions. I bleed on tainted tiled floors,
But I live to hunt another day.

"Innocence injured in possible cult killers rampage,

But under sedation I see those that could be a next
page on my thoughts, to end them not with anger
not with words but silence never knowing **"Why,

If you were a zombie what
would you eat, would you
only eat out a woman or
would you eat man meat.

A question of taste
answered on this day,
as we only eat one while
some prefer to try the
flavour of both what is
your flavour if a zombie
what would you eat for a
day.

Breast or man meat or a
bit of both, if you were
a zombie would you just
have a fetish for hands and
feet or fingers and toes.

Her petals were awaiting me, to take her full aroma in,
She was a garden of Eden to taste her, to touch upon
Her nakedness was my bliss.

Her wrists were locked in pleasure, silk skin, tempting
Touches, she was a goddess of my eyes and her flower
Was awaiting my now eager touch.

Rosette beauty thorns trimmed only softness upon
Lips as each petal was gently picked and her flower
Bathed with awaiting ecstasy.

Her rose was worth the wait as two became as one
And the nectar of this garden was tasted, and now
Her rose is a bud awaiting pleasures anew.

It never saw itself as much,
             a rough coat...
  but underneath that where
             its true potential lay.

But when It looked deeper
          all it saw was conflicting layers.
    Then the unthinkable, others saw
his uses but he just cut into himself.


Tears feel as the feeling of unworthiness
             was cut away as layers fell..
but this was like every other
                     onion depressed at its worth.

but everything is special in another's eyes,
     Were all like a onion, layers of dignity.
But even though we don't see it,
      We all have a worth, were layers of an onion..