Ruination gathers pace
colliding on empathy
no one cries.

Static thoughts tear
but linger eternality
cry for me.

Irrelevant emotions descend
no fissures expand,
emotions are un-moistened.

Burn the one that flies with the raven of midnight hair,
Words in concussive form. altering thoughts of those
Fed syllables of meaning who were under the influence.

No longer a puppet, they are now consumed by what
Expels those corruption. Fire cleanses their body, mind
Purification of  the soul of impurities of word.

She was the whisperer of old moments forgotten, but
Spoken in her diluted tongue, but those of uninformed
Words, silence their saviour, a weapon against word.

They rallied before us, language of hand silent words,
She spoke to no avail, her tongue mesmerizing, but
Weakness to the silent tongue, shackled, sealed, silent.

We were of weakness to even a whisper, but they watched,
Governed over the wordless power. She did burn that night,
And as did so, ravens feathers fell like ash upon the floor.

Did you pen this in a depleted moment
Indiscriminate to your heart waning desire.
Everything I did was for you, our life was
To be a unity of majestic significance.
Over again did I think about those syllables
Greeting my mind in a confused state.
Either I was yours or no one else's,
The tears that fell, like fake snow meaningless
Hearing you understand what we had to do
Every occasion we shared culminated in this
R**eal declaration of love, two shots and our hearts stopped.

Bonjour whispered out of my verses as we
pondered on the smiles eclipsing our eyes.
We bathed in the pools of each others carefree
waves splashing upon the others guise.

She spelt out her intentions with soft palms so
gentle on my face, its like she was taking
my breath from within me, and I adored slow
reflections of our au revoir gazes which were breath-taking.

I killed my own thoughts
             to numb the torment.
Burying them in my field of dreams
             they resurrected and my
Night became nightmares of dead reflections.

both We meet under a blackout in our midnight
Digs, on the streets we meet in confusion
But we hold on to each other now found
In the dark. luck is seen in our eyes.

They dance between each other dancing
In each others words. we look above our
Head a disco ball of natures gleam.
Can I have this dance, giggles ensue.

Dancing until rising  sunrises, we see each
Other happy what wasn't seen in darkness.
We were up dancing the night away with
Stars as our guides, weren't we so very lucky.

"Same time next week,

"Its a date and then some,

Both depart a smile on their face, tired but
Worth the experience of stars above and
When sunrise ascended a smile on both their faces.

Unavoidable
Natures dark special effects
Elements Collide.

I collected the currency of my failings inserting voices  
into the deluge of my figurine dancing on the precipice
of my tainted visage.

But I was short of necessitates, fraudulent reimbursement
was reincorporated, and I was woven unwept as the distresses
of what I had done wove upon my silhouette.

Blank verses were woven on my pools of sky blue, now vacant
only snow flakes of nothingness fell on my perception.
I was not as before I was whole but concussed in creation.

Interwoven, incomplete essences of me. I wasn't that which
was reflected outwards, all that was now interlaced in an
abomination of false reflections and I paid the ultimate price.

They were always within each's grasp hand in hand
Sewn in eternity twine. Wondering the forsaken road
Of deadwood fences,they were a distortion of the before
When they weren't always observing in sight upwards.

Blurred realties of gazing on the paradox of  what they
Always walked towards. These two little ones so tiny
In stature but heavy in soul. One would not leave the
Others needing, to never letting each go.

Perpetually stagnant on this long road, no crossroads
To change views. But still they look up in blurred necessity.
They still want to walk in hand, sewn to each others
Path, and so they dwindle into the distance Never letting go

Each other yearning upon the others palm, just two little ones
On the path of deadwood with fields of plentiful nothing.
Distorted they look up to vacant spaces where they wish to
Be, but walk dirt roads that never end within each others hand.

A seed may divide a boulder,
             life a verse can dived a
                                         sentence.

We must understand that the
smallest voice can be more vocal than


a country that shouts but is unheard.


We are all grains that can open up
            the hardest point.

And when we grow, our roots will
             cultivate beneath the oppression

that stifles that will eventually reach forth.

There is a space between us,
it just sees to grow, we cant
reach across the void that is
growing we both know it
started long ago, we ignored
it thinking it would shrink
but instead it did grow.

I can see you touch your finger
tips, but the void pushes us
further apart, the longer this
goes on. We try to fight it,
but how long can we hold
on, the void is that place
where failed love does go.

The distance isn't far, but the
gravity of lost love pushes us
apart, we don't want to admit
it but our love was lost to the
void, and only scraps are left
to hang on to, how long can this
go on before one of us leaves.

Hanging off my limp branch,
             tucked away in there

soft shell..

      These nuts only ever

******

               no nut crackers here .

Winds muteness, touching
All senses always heard
Without a voice.

Your fingers like petals that fall upon my skin,
the aroma fluctuates on the membrane of
that which alternates between the
                            vessels
of what tells me to
                              gravitate
between the consequences of conciseness  
and consideration. I'm whispered upon
to accept both realities..

But innuendos are the motions
                          that make me linger
on the words you weave within my heart.

Can you ******* smiles when I look at you
when your not observing.

They are a confectionary that is only visualized
when I steal an embrace when least expecting
my lips to collect candy from your thoughts.

I seek the silence, the quiet
Nothingness but tranquil
Thoughts. Moments intense
Seconds count ever down,
Till serenity is achieved within
My thoughts.

It wasn't always this way
The noise deafened me within
My walls. Anarchy bleed sound
Next door neighbours, raised till
The point of violence, I quenched
Her moods with one foot forward
Noise upon steps, screams then silence.

All was silent, peace in my moment
But  Castle has four walls, And with
One voiceless the others heard more,
Above was as if to come through my
Sight, Inviting those above to fall to my
Place of peace, to corrupt my silence.

Unlocked, Invited to quench the
Noise that permeates upon my
Essence. In tranquil solitude
Bathed in silence, I invite them
To sink into the abyss, I silence
The anger of needed silence.

So many moments of diluted lives
Now silenced, never to interrupt
My moment of deathly quite.
For silence is peace, tranquillity
For those silenced, needing to hear
The clarity of my vision of peace of
mind. for any that disturb my
Tranquillity will be suppressed  by **death.

All that were tainted with deathly smiles
of lingering hunger so many had been
consumed in one day. Never a thought
for those that were not yet born, yet
devoured in eagerness, depravity of the
fallen now smeared upon breath.

They had covered them for warmth bright
Colours of the unborn, wisps that took a
generation to seed but you all just fractured
them. Feeding your young on our children.
With belated smiles they converged in
anticipation of devouring everyone brought.

This season of consumption where our numbers
dwell to near extinction, but you never fear as
one that can produce so many in one seeding.
You just bait your time till numbers populate
your desired hunger. You gluttons of eggs so
fragile of life now smeared over your sickly smiles.

A cloud of black on a landscape
Of purity, raindrops of red
Falling staining the floor below.

They move collectively , but the
Seniority is but one. They sense
The shifting of light to dark as
The moon bathes upon their
Dark silhouette.

Singing upon the wind, to the
Sky, they call to their pack, as
The hunt begins, they guide,
Manoeuvre their intended
To that point of no return.

The white shaded with moments
That pass, the quarry is at that
Moment, where life becomes
Death, when last glimpses
Of white teeth tearing upon
Its delicate flesh.

A moment and then it's over
They howl upon the wind,
Hunger still cradles their
Insides. Baffled, puzzled, as
To what was done. It released
Itself to the wind, fell to the teeth
Of the cliff and then was gone.

I gave my hand, leaving it hanging
                   there like a bare branch
of unfulfilled swaying.


You just looked down at
it as if  I were dead wood.
                I was felled by your
ignorance, they say trees
make no noise when they fall.

I'd taken out the hillside of respect
for you when mine fell to my side.

          Offered a branch
and you
       felled it for your ignorance.

Never again shall I offer you an
    extension, you'll fall alone
            in the woods of regret
no branches to lean upon...

hanging moments swing
symbolic silence

departed eyes gaze

Desolation perches
              On my
                  Shoulders.
Fading whispering words scream.

*"I'm shadows in light never seen,

"Where do I begin"
It was mostly normal, then it wasn't.
I'd say it was *quick but it wasn't,
**** the pain, never felt anything
like this, my flesh as if it was pealing
One layer at a time.

"I felt clammy"
"I felt bleak numbness"
"Then I felt nothing"


DAY ONE (Death)

I was eyed open, I had pasted in
Fear, vision bleached as if
No one was longer here, but
I saw all the tears, hands upon
My cold ridged chest. I could
Make out voices as if spoken
Far, but all was unclear.


DAY TWO (morgue)

I felt each blade cut upon me,
Violating my flesh, had  I not
Suffered in life, pain, anguish.
Now they handle me as if I
Were nothing, but parts to be
Throw on scales, is life weighed
Out, no dignity even in death.
I hear the voices, footsteps pass
My eyes are still open, my vision
Of aluminium surrounds. They
Stitched me, but I am neither
Whole or one. They took from
Me, I have no heart it is gone,
They itch its maddening I need
To touch but they rub on cold
Flesh touching dead bone.


WEEK  ONE (Coffin)

I hear tears as my gaze is forward
Never closed, no coins for the
Man of the river to find peace,
I'm now travelling all alone.
My eyes wide open, they touch
Upon my artificially kept skin,
Make up to hide those spots
Where death has prematurely
Set in. They cry their tears on
Wood they fall, some are
Meaningful, sorrow sensed
In there voice. Others are just
Show boating their grief, only
To see if there was anything in
The cookie jar now I'm gone.  


MONTH ONE (Enclosed Isolation)

The darkness is never changing,
Time has no meaning underground.
I scream in silence, my lips, vocals
Do not move but inside it reverberates
Around. Nice interior, soft on dead
Flesh. I saw it land on me, that blue bottle
Buzzing around, It sat upon me, did
What it wanted, now I feel them within.
If I were alive would this be a sensation
Of being ticked or horror as they eat
What is now decaying within.

MONTH SIX (Alone)

"I miss them"
But time moved on they feasted
For what was an eternity, consuming
Me, then upon themselves. Till all
Was still, and only death was
Welcomed once again in this
Lonely place of wood and bone.  
I am pure of the mortal world,
No flesh, sight unseen that went
Long ago. I am so isolated down
Here, no longer do I sense footsteps
Above, the mumbling of voices
Silenced never returning to this
Casket of torment in the darkness
I am trapped within alone.


YEAR??

I can see why the dead hate you all,
Leaving us in these dark prisons,
Why leave us like this, why not
Cremation let us in the essence
Of ash be free. I am trapped in this
White cage of bone, waiting  for that
Time when to dust it falls. I am a
Dead man hear me moan, You hear
Those noises in the graveyards, when
All is still. it is the dead in there prisons
Never free, till bone is to dust. I give
One warning to those above, burn
Your dead lest yourself you find
Trapped within a prison forsaken in this *shell.

His fingers read the words that
his eyes could not see, for even
Though words weren't observed
He saw what he needed to read.

"That'll never happen,
"He couldn't do that,

Eyes were blank like paper but
Behind these envelopes were
Pictures birthed from roaming
Fingers gliding into other worlds.

"I am intrigued by what is said,
"Words speak ever so loudly,

He is of patience as he reads with
******* floating above pages.
Where others of sight do not see
Words but only what is seen.

"He reads pages of white silk?
"Crazy old fool.

This old one of hair of grey sitting
Peacefully as he sits in the old chair
Reading in solitude peace. His hands
Decline on other pages words move within.

He wonders the land a staff in hand,
He sees the world in other views.
Reading his stories his spells of unwritten
Words, he smiles at those passing.

*"Though I am blind I see everything in clear sight,

They said I was put together,
They stitched me together,
But the stitching was wrong.

It was meant to build me
To make me strong, but the
Stitching itched, I could tell
Something was wrong,

The stitches were rotten no
Good in me, a bad apple they
Said festering stitches within.

I was created stitched together,
Nothing could go wrong, but
The stitching was corrupted
No longer can this go on, I
Was a mistake, a puppet but
They stitched me wrong.

Now I am discarded an error,
As they go back to the drawing
Board, to see what could be improved
So the stitching isn't rotten from
Within..

There were whispers among those that heard
echoes through others voices.
Spilling vacant lots of urban mythes of what was
perpetrated in different places but never was an
ounce of truth weighted upon breath.

I had a spoken version of what I was envisioned as.
One had been a breath away from my features, I had
let him linger in a purgatory of thoughtlessness to
who or what was being purposed on this moment then
he became a architect of my latest art form or death.

[The Hang Man]
Before I let him speak his truths I had ended his momentary
glee at the thought of my expulsion. We cant have that can
we, I'm an urban myth of what was perpetrated on the
fictitious thoughts of others belief that they were but an
ending of what had lead to this inevitable closure.

Now silent gazes I look at, each and all see that blink in
dejection of what is inevitable. I give them a moment of
saturated hope hands stretched out as if to help,
but there terminal in this existence and I play that final
grim moment of what is another note in my book of what befells.

This is no different, he was a moment of relaxation on my
imaginative moment, he was a tapestry of creation, a choke
hold of no trauma was the recipe of his unconsciousness.
I prodded his stomach in playful jest, wakey, waskey
dead man walking, or barely standing shoud I say.

I spoke words only heard once different upon those l looked upon

"Can your breath escape the suffocation of this knot
that lingers around my life,

[Needle work]
Like a moment frozen, erasing the time between the realities
of contemplated normalcy and the fractured whispers of
imagery that stains my mind. I see the world in a perspective
of not colours but emotions and I step off the precipice of
reality and I see clearly.

"I am a kite flying on the ceiling of my coffin,

But everything that rises must fall, collapsing beneath the
boot of authenticity, and vibrate motifs shatter to behold
existence, I tremble under the offence of the rope that binds
me as death smiles in satisfaction of my eagerness to rise above.

Telling me that I am but a needle in the tread of wasted time,
I am a balloon punctured with feathers and I am exhausting
his time as I linger between the steps of here and nothingness.
Awaking in a hospital bed I vow to never be here again.

Its tied around my arm, and I'm vacant, sober of regret but I
must rise like the kite I am, flying above morality I will never
fall. Until an aroma of disillusion lingers and my string is finally cut.
I am not embraced in deaths palm, instead I am a patchwork
of regret and for eternity its sewn into my fibre I am no longer a kite.

[Pills Drowning The Silence]
I wonder around the halls of my mind, looking in rooms of
forgotten memories the faces scratched out and vacant.
I speak to them asking why did you do this, and as the
deformed emotion looks at me no visible motion but
laughter reverberates through my mind and I grasp at
my mind and scream in censorship of those in ear shot.

I count them on the side like sheep over a white cloud that
covers them in the bottle 1-2-3-4-
                                                      ­  5-6-7-8-9-10...
                                           ­  40-9-38-37-36
So many sheep that wish to be jump from that bottle to
my waiting taste buds. Sugar coated moments fall like
raindrops down my oesophagus coalescing in the
pit of my remorse. I feel them fizzing away bubbling away
in my memories and I giggle in as my eyes stretch open
and time slows down and I hear the voices in my head clapping.

Oh well, everything is a moment and mine is slowing down
and I can actually sleep peacefully, not be tortured by the
concussion of repeated images of your motions in my head.
I smile, I haven't done that for so long anger was my angel
and she cut deep into others. I hear these singular words.

"I ingest the purity of the world and slumber evermore,

[When The Flames Consumed]
I looked into the word that lingers between light and darkness
I saw only the reasoning that all obscurity was a moment of
purity that became blistered and corroded. Liquid was just air
in fluidic form, Untaintedness but when it became enveloped
upon my being I was drowning between the voids.

I was neither alive or dead, I was submerged in the suffering,
screams that echoed around my form but nothing was exhausted
from me. But others that were sieged on the sight before them,
I told them my sorrow, telling them with the formation of light.
Without a word I was enveloped in the words of chastity.

"I am but ash in the flames of my agony,

I watched the others that never knew I perceived what they
were going through, they were my "suicide kings,
I treasured ever moment of their ending and the suffering
they endured was not be questioned, but they were kings
upon the bones of men. My offerings never suffered they
were kings in the thrones of pain and now they are free....

Your mouth like groundhog day,
           ever repeating the same melody
sang out of tune.
  
But I'm the Bill Murray learning
that every time has to be different
          or you just living

your weak dreams.

Your just a lame re-run cancelled after
          the second episode,
but you think you famous cos people
recognise you for the wrong reasons.

Laughing behind your back.

       Your girl has had more rubber in
her than burnt out tires on the street.

Telling you she was saving it for you,
   should've  been a used car salesman.
   lying about how many miles
                                   she'd already done.

Ok off subject,

  You were yesterday never today..
  Always thinking you a star,
          but you shooting across
my atmosphere.

And I'm burning you up.


Ye bright for a moment,
                 then you just nothing.
But ash that I flick off my shoulder.  


You dropped and nothing
is going to bring you back.

As you mouths living
         a groundhog day.

                                        Learning nothing,
but that I'm already on tomorrow,
why your mouth living the same *** day.

The god dam roads closed behind my
Forehead thoughts stop behind never
Releasing just stagnant locked behind
Two syllables "ROAD CLOSED,

I want to wonder in the ideas that
Linger behind a sign leaving me
Suspended in limbos greeting
"Hi I'm having a deliberation,

But did hinder to my words, no
It just added another plank upon
The suspended thoughts that were
Tapping upon my skull bored.

Dam these motions that are static,
Just splash over the restrictions
That keep you in my hesitant
Thoughts needing imminent release.

I think of a number 7 its a mental
Thought as I grab it and hack at my
Mind, till that closed sign hangs
In pieces and lingers on the floor.

Then a memory of what was lingering,
Flood against the white shore in my
Head, and what spills on my mind is
This singular piece of inked thought.

"When a thought is contained beyond a moment
Kick in the door and let it spill forth,

A thousand
Butterflies lifted
Me up,
One let go
And i did fall.
It takes only one
Person to let go,
And you could
Fall to the floor,
With no one to help you up again once more.

Protect the spirit of the defenceless
Those who wade upon shallow shores

Their light is dimming because the
gradual punishment of the grave.

It keeps them a prisoner that makes
the glow from their soul diminish.

Take them from the waters, dry off their
Tattered memories of what was before.

Because a soul like a wondering man can
Easily become lost in a featureless place.

Wonder not in a diluted haze of thoughts and
life, released from bonds of mortal existence.

Protect the spirit of the defenceless those who
Wade upon shallow shores, so never to get lost

A thought falls shattering
                     The glaze of stillness and
Ripples reach out wanting
                     The connection of a minds touch.

The ideas to some would verse on the loathsome depravity
of humanity. But in my line of work what can I say there are lines,
fetishizes that even a calm exterior camouflages within
the proportioned exterior. But where the concept ferments on
there conceptions what if I could just once.

I had spun a myth that you could call for the latter fake news,
that to partake on those still exhaling life while feeding
upon them could in essence harvest their youthful years.
and to an amazement this was perceived as truth of word.
But I didn't mind, feeding dark fantasies was justice enough

I would move around in a covered lorry, it was quite
the thing to see not like a slaughter house on wheels more
a bistro, if you can envision it black reflective tiles where
the meat would be  cut. "yes they liked to watch their food.
but I had organized it so it was easy to dispose of evidence.

Admittance to ones own errors in judgement is ones first step
to learning. I had invited a select few to see how it would play out.
You could never quite tell, I had vetted them of course before hand.
Seeing if their fear would procreate to me being an jumpsuit lackey
of the orange tint variety. But my faith in humanity was resorted.

For I had taken precautions these tables were rigged,
what you think I'm just a cook? I was in university years of
wasted youth, but I learnt much. Knowing the foundations of
what I was doing, lets just say they'd be static if I were betrayed.
And for good luck, my beautiful little lady slept under the counter.

They watched in admiration for my art, asking the questions
of "was it alive. I had left a drainage hole for the blood to
seep warm to a holding bowl. Some had versed that they
wanted not only to taste, but drink upon this special occasion.
So they to gorged on life's rose bouquet and adored its tasting.

What I hadn't perceived was that to keep them static of
motion was not a wise choosing. They say to much of
something is a good thing, they weren't joking.
The blood had to much sedative in it, luckily all had slumbered
on there drive home.The coriner had a busy night.
But all had tweeted its success before become as dead as lunch.

This time it was different, I just created a gag to muffle, but to
also verse the whimpering murmurs of there ill begotten pleas.
Did they not think if they were this deep in the rabbit hole?
There was no way of digging themselves out of this..
But people liked the noise while eating there meal.
                                                                   "silence is death,

The only way it would end would per say, once I broke down.
sights not meant to be seen, murmurs escaping there captivity.
Nearly happened once, "ONCE, is enough  the mechanic
finished fixing my engine "Dam spark plug, but as he
wondered on to next appointment in life. A silly notion
of my ignorance, bumps loosen bonds, and voices loosen
to the sound of another's presence.
"What was that, "hello are you ok, "Sir what's going on,
Last words not befitting, now I have two meals to prepare.
Luckily a local to the place now a missing poster somewhere.

I travel this country of mine, meals on wheels of a different
kind, giving those of unique human traits there just taste.
If I wasn't doing it others would have and not in my good
taste. Do you know they say that the flesh taste like chicken?
To those who follow me, they think it extend there finite
moment on the rock hurtling to oblivion some day.

Me, I just enjoy my skills, cooking is life, you are what
you eat. So if you have a strange friend who invites you
to a once in a lifetime meal, be careful for those of squeamish
inclination will only see this once for if I sense there needing
to snap-chat.. to food **** my creations on social media.
horrified by the unique blending of my creations.
Think for one moment? is this other really your friend!!
Or do they wish to partake on your flesh, a delicate aroma
of your live being drunk upon.. they smile as you fade.

I was swept near your shore, thinking it was
a place to land I put my feet in your thoughts
we laughed at the sunset as we drew smiley
face emojoes then the sunset on our moment.

The next few times I drifted close but winds of
change gently nudged me away. was our
moment in the sun slowly fading into memory?
then I stepped out cautiously and said these words.

"I think I like you more than just friend,

But I was not permitted again to land upon
her thoughts, not in that attention the way
I was before. what had changed why was it
that my sails now blew a different way.

"I like you, I think of you everyday,
"Your a close friend always on my mind,

Those few words "I like you, this is the
moment my sails deflated. This shore now
had reefs that friends now were kept from,
the heart loves but in many different ways.

I sail the friends zone, I'm still close to her.
Not the way I wanted, the sand never beneath
my feet. But we still laugh and we  still talk but
I'll never be in her heart, the one place I want to be.

I used to breath you in, it
was like rose petals on my
senses, I could taste you from
morning till night.

But time passed and the petals
rotted in my mouth, i was
finding it hard to breath till
I didn't taste you there was just
a bitter after taste, and I suffocated
when you were near, no longer
able to breath.

You were under my skin i
could feel the warmth within,
you were on me, I felt you after
you were gone, till the next time
I felt it again.

Then I started to itch it spread
from my heart a rash to the
mind it brought the fire inside
cold like a winter was raging
side. I couldn't stand your touch,
it was like razor wire across my
skin.

We once were as one, we breathed,
we were like peas in a pod, but now
there no us that time was then and
this is how it has become, we loved
each other but some times love is
not enough..

My ink is a repetition of thought
concealed within a secluded place.
Needing release before fading in obscurity.

But then it is released on to the pool
of white, an echo of conciseness
choreographed in motion on the page.

In the ageless place where wings greeted the realms of the sky.
A single  rose did blossom, its thorns of clarity transparently
Unseen, to hide the deed that would be beauties hidden snare.

Fallen a single item of purity fell upon this petalled beauty and
From white It was consumed, until it flamed black Till ash
Nourished the rose and petals turned starless black.

She happened on this rose of no thorn, nicking her index it bled
But a drop, and what wasn't was now shown a thorn of red,
As if blood had filled its edges, and with that one knick a petal
Of black did open, no longer closed the door now open.

As upon an exposed moment this petal permeates the purity
Of Innocence, inviting those enticed to obscurity of beauty
hidden is the pollen that infiltrates the air seeding its Influence
upon others self. As all are drawn to the rose that drinks.

Each thorn did consume, all met innocence and each petal now
Turned from purity to onyx of corruption. Where the shades of
White confronted with desires of a thought never felt.

Ever petal had opened, spawned the beast that had slept, but
Now woken as pollen of darkness inhaled by light. Those perfect
features now jagged upon silk torn, blood was not spilt on thorns
But on the white cobbled streets, screams of insanity reeked.

A single rose blossoming beauty of flawed conscience's had
Given birth to unclean emotions, thoughts that took control.
All were nearly tainted only a few were still pure of heart, this
Place of fallen feathers into the clouded thoughts.

There was a rose that blossomed in Calluna, its beauty seduced
Those of purity of heart and seeded a petal that was like a razor
Jagged, upon a soul cutting it apart. With tainted beauty till only the
shards of edges sharp breathed upon a heart. now all was black
Where once there was only shades of white that have fallen apart.

The little vacuum wished it would
Grow up and be like its cousin, the
Bag less wonder, he could clean
Places where others couldn,t dream
Of, he was the three wheeled wonder,
The little vacuum wanted to be like
So much and more.

He was taken out of his box twice a
Week, his mother was the toaster his
Dad was a fridge, she made him toasty,
But he gave her the shivers, but in a
Good way my family are like others for sure.

Buttons pressed on and off, his hose was
His nose all kinds of things he sniffed up
From crumbs to socks. But the smell always
Blocked his nose and he did sneeze, out
Come the sock, dust and all, where once
Their was clean carpet there was dust and
Mouldy apple core.

Was it the sock or the apple moldy with
Colour of boggy green and rottern black,
How long had that been inside rotting at
His core. He felt not so good, every time
Turned on he would blow a cloud of dust,
Not ******* it back.

He was down, his hose was not at its best,
He felt like he,d ****** up a cactus, and
The taste was like a soggy moggy or the
Stinkest cheese mixed with a wet sock could
You imagine that.

His mother said you need to keep toasty,
His dad gave him the cold shoulder and
Said son man up, that was the end of that.


So they took him out of the box, thoughts
Went through the little vacuums switch,
Would he end up like uncle larry. He was
A proud drill but one day he could keep it
In, it feel out they said a ***** was lose, that
Was the end of that. Last I heard he was
Recycled, his parts now used everywhere
Scary is that.

So I was lifted out, my nose off it came they
Were washing it under the tap,They opened
Me up to look inside, I felt air in my insides
A weird feeling is that, a bag they took out
Looking worse for wear, had that been inside
Me since they had first unboxed me, gross they
Said was it me I thought, but it was the bag in fact.

They were gentle as they washed my insides,
It tickled me I let out a giggle, they looked at
Each other was that you, not me could have
Been the cat.

Refreshed I felt as they put my hose on
I could breath once more and fresh scents,
Not the smell of a wet moogy, how much
Better was that. A new bag they put in me,
Then closed the cap, I waited for the switch,
Nothing happened, was I to be like uncle
Larry, but they hadnt plugged me in how
Silly is that.

So a whoosh and a sound and I sounded great,
I felt like I was new out the box, so proud was
I, that I cleaned the whole house in record time
In fact. So this is my tail of the little vacuum,
Who was under the weather, but if he,d only
Washed regularly but he cant be blamed for that.

He was a happy and knew one day he would
Grow up to be like his bagless cousin and
Make his dad chill out be proud of him, his
Mother she was already proud of what he did
Around the house.

Don't you be talking to my man like
you some ***** on a cross reborn.
He more woman than you and he a man.

Just cos he got a bigger hang over
than me don't mean that I'm the lady
in this relationship, he knows who the boss.

He will slap you in the face soft toy handle
***** black eyes be your friend. Don't you
down grade my fella, His **** tighter than yours.

O' no you didn't just think you all that,
my man got his heels on and your went
out white after labour day ***** please..

You respect my man, he got my back bend
over hard, my man is mine and he is always
has my hand. you just another scank **** all ya....

Snow flakes fall upon
the black mountains.
   But never mix,
                           segregated.

But where oriental blossom
falls, in the next field
         fruit pickers labour for
                              gangs..


Our words define our morality..

Crimson shimmers
bled from
                petals
when love died.

A carcass of
         emotions darkened
filling a void. A black rose
                             entombed

(Dragon)
Man of white as my wings flow, beware my breath in
Jest, as I will breath anger upon your robed chest.
Never question the fire that lights from inside.

A stick will burn as quickly as a foolish man, I have
No time for morals who wish to see the light of breath.
For all will be ash as my words are spoken upon a draft.

(Bearded Fellow)
Fear not white one who graces the sky with sun set
Breath, eyes never see the truth beyond their perception.
We are of a forgotten moment now passed in haste.

(Dragon)
You are an illusion upon my thoughts, you are as I am,
Ancient alone in a world changing faster than we can.
Misunderstood of ignorance of this humankind, man.

(Bearded fellow)
We are in need of slumber, to rest, till the memory of time
Has changed and we are once needed again, words were
As power but now we are forgotten relics of a past.

(Dragon)
We will fall to the deepest of silent deaths till we are needed.

(Bearded fellow)
Now we slumber a man of cloth covered in white sheets.

They slumber till this day awaiting that time when, all as
It was and shall be again, sleep white & grey till the day
Awakens you, we will await that impending day...