I lay breadcrumbs of my emotions
for you to follow. Each was nourished
with essence that enticed your heart onward.

I lay breadcrumbs of my thoughts
for you to listen too. Each sustained
with true meaning of delicate spoken words.

I lay breadcrumbs so many times,
some got lost along the way, others
never interested stale crumbs then faded away.

I lay breadcrumbs, but I started to follow
yours, and with each morsel grazed upon
I found the door to your heart & love had won.

"A breadcrumb trail to a hearts beating path,
*"Who's trail will you follow today,

If you masturbated a hedgehog,
  
which ***** would you
                make stiff first..


And how many schlongs
                      could you handle at once..

Wow thats deep....

She faded into the oblivious shadows of night,
The mardi-gras converted from dawn to daylight.
Where she danced elegantly in ballroom raves
She etched her body to the rhythm flowing in waves.

Her hunger was lustful in her eternally gazing eyes,
She kept her secrets beneath beauty's seductive gaze,
But when heart beats drowned out the soulful harmony
Penetrating eyes hummed on gullible  minds uncertainty.

Her burgundy lips etched on life's needing of lustful kisses,
Eager thoughts on this chardonnay on lips it glistened.
Drained off needing, she rested them peacefully in death
Never noticing until departed that they are exempt of breath.

Invigorated she released the energy of life on the dancefloor
Day descended into nights embrace, so she left out the backdoor,
Upon the streets she smiled at the masks hiding her secrets
When an invite did fall in to her hands, her next feed on a leaflet.

I'm no trailer park trash,
you may live
                      forty three stories more than me..

But I'll reach higher than you any day of the week.

I only have to take one step,
                             to tell what is
                        curb crawling around me.

Trying to sell me false hopes,
            selling me bath salt dreams.

But there more like bubble bath,
          popping before I even enjoyed it.

Your hopes and dreams are sky high,
illusions of
           your first steps.
A worthless dime falling from  a great height.


              No one even heard you
                                           plunge...

Cos there only interested what's
                                      happening on the street..

Your just a stain that no one really looked at,

                                                        cares about.


    As there's plenty more chalk outlines
                            that children hopscotch over..

Can you count to ten..


Then there's another gunshot..
          like a storm, they hitting in the distance..

Just another cold breath that falls from ground zero...
                                                  burn stains on the
side-lines
                    that play pause.



                                        No breath... no care.

I'm here at ground zero,
            your up there in your fairy-tale

hanging from your chandelier,

But I'm swinging lower but still breathing.

Dead thoughts feed this Lilly, ever drinking
As she picked them free to wear upon herself.

She smelt the aroma of a dead mans thoughts,
Intoxicating was death to her every self.

Gazing upon this jar of silent looks eyes forever
Closed, to open nevermore life is restrained.

This wasn't the only flower she was to grow,
All would have the scent of deathly thoughts.

Each will drink upon a suspended moment of
Muteness, only the flowers would speak with scent.

Come to this place of the silent reflection, entice
Oneself with the scent of a dead ones thoughts.

I
Have
A
Trumpet,
Put
Your
Lips
Around
It
Blow It hard, and watch me smile....

My fingers move, my arms in the air.
I cant play an instrument, but I am the
Best in the world with my air guitar.

Here me play with music loud, hands
Swinging in the air, I look like a mad
Man to friends, watching my fingers
Do the motions of different cords.

I'm the best at this instrument, I think
Crowds would go wild, paying to see
My awesomeness. I play with fingers
Swinging my arms slowly and fast
Playing what I do best the air guitar.

I------------K C O
H@@@@@@@@ L
A@@@@@@@@ B
V@@@@@@@@ |
E-W R I T E R S

M-DE RAU QS|  
Y############ O
| ############ S
W ########### |
O R D S-S E E M

I
Need
        *To
           *Write
                    But
                         Feel
                             Though
                                        Many
       ­                                        Steps
                                                       ­ Must
                                                         ­       Be
                                                   ­         Climbed  B4  I   WR1TE  1NCE  **AGAIN

On a swing of deadened wood she would
Swing, holding upon these slender ropes of thorn.

Piercing onto flesh, but always held on as
Though to fall, but tears bleed from this motion.

Back and forth, white became red as a head
Slumped forward and motions carried on as hand frim.

This dead wood sat upon a rope of thorns
Motioning the seeping tide  that with each gesture flowed.

Grasping fingers ridged as these swings, each
With heads slumped, bleed a little and swung always evermore .

A hundred words
        and more I could
                              "say"

But that look in your eyes
             says it all
   with out words.

Like a Venus flytrap she enticed beauty
Captivated upon its purity it feed the
Mind malnourished of thoughts inside.

Absorbed its essence upon her own Decaying
Moments now nourished, withered moment
Now replenished, but still It dies.

Mrs withering was deaths other hand
Now all purified with her gaze. She was
The hand where beauty came to die.

Wolf yearns for the moon,
Raven omen of ill wind,
Eagle soars heaven.

To be a pirate the things I,d see,
the high waves as the ship goes
up and down, down and up on
the sea. Arrr I feel sick over the
side I will mostly be.

Swab the decks so they be as
clean asthey can be, **** this
boat of wood the splinters I be
getting, I  be needing tweezers
and me mummy.

I want treasure, I want to bury
it where no one can see, I,ve done
this many times but I keep forgetting
as I have a poor memory.

I want to be a pirate, the things
I would see, but I want to put my
flag on themast a smiling skull it
would be.

I,m not a normal pirate as they
seem to say, I be to nice, and
I,m not very good at sea As I,m
always over the side giving the
fish food that comes out of my tummy.

I,m a pirate all can see, I  dont
have a sword as I always  be cutting
my tummy, I dont think I,m cut out
for this life upon the high sea.

I think ill do kids parties with my
ballon sword, no more cuts for me just
out of breath, as it keeps popping in me.

My choclate coins I must remember
are not to buried or to eat, there for
the children arrr no choclate for pirate me.

Adrift in silence
Floating in the womb of space
Natures lamp posts guide.

Breezes wonder  playfully over*
Inspired  within their surrounding
All is a playground of nature
*Swaying dandelions dancing  elegantly

sneezing,
coughing,
talking rough.

Eyes watering
zombie walking
gurgle sounds as
muffled talk
speak up.

Snoring waking others up
I'm dyeing god when will the,
(Wife or partner)
dam it man,
man the **** up

You kept me entombed in a coffin of thought
Never free cockroaches of doubt crawled
Around my chained thoughts.

The nails rough on my mind, jaggedly etching
oxidized stagnation of my embalmed understanding.
Why would you keep me in the dark.

I am solitary in this shallow wash of waning moments
Could I just crawl in to this sea of disbelief and
Drown slowly in my entombed darkened thoughts.

I feel like crying sometimes but
the liquid aroma of alcohol hazes
these emotions,  but then I awaken
to those feeling ponding upon my
cerebral cortex and I grief in anger.

Do you know how much the flames
Ignite upon my form, as I fall I am
consumed within the emotions like
a stove I am taken high and then fall.

I feel like tears but drink them into
submission and once they linger in
a haze I ponder upon them on a
more sombre date and then forget.

Life is like a pencil,
          
            Once you use up all the lead

All your left with is dead wood...

I sit here in misery
"My hands shake"
I scream at a reflection
Me, Me, Me
Will I be that which I need to be.

(chorus)
I need crimson flushed over me
I need crimson within me
I need to see the misery
I need too see cold eyes in front of me.

I cry at the moments of misery
She is the mistress of needed lust
Will she not answer my prayers
I will never wash it away from me.

(chorus)
I need crimson flushed over me
I need crimson within me,
I need to see the misery
I need too see cold eyes in front of me.

Will I ever bleed enough crimson,
There is beauty in the bleeding  
To  feed her greed,
Will she be satisfied as I am in misery.
I have left crimson cold on the ground
Will I ever see her my **crimson queen.

Social media, a person with
so many friends a picture seen,
liked by others and even new
friends now seen.

But turn off that phone,
the laptop, and your I Pad too,
and when you look around
there is only you.

With no others to see, a
person alone, no real people
around, untill the log on is
done but are these real friends as
never  really seen.

A person has never been
more alone, when so many
friends are seen, but one must
talk for real connect not over
WI-FI but face to face not
face book or twitter its
not really real...

We are to busy looking at the grandeur
                  of the nirvana above
to realise that even though there is beauty
exhaling  beyond our sights.

                       That there is an inhiation
of stunning metaphors
                              swimming beneath ever wave..

Stories drowned beneath every convulsion that
             swells with every passing rise of
                                 nights eternal watchman.

Immersed luminosity that never sees lambent ashes
                                            hanging silently above.
Only giving the onyx deep a light show
                    of life's perfection to never fade away..

For in every darkness there is a shade of light,
               and within every light
there is a passing glimmer of shading.

For no matter how far we ascend, what is beneath
            still teaches us that we need to look into
the  darkness to realise that we need go deeper
                       before we ascend higher than our gaze wishes..

I wish every day was a Friday,
that seven-day repetition that
        I no your walking through
my door, no looking back...

Were here all night a 2.5 fraction
of a week where theres just me
             and you, just us....

Runing a 4.5 day missing you
    to a weekend of just us
through the minutes to hours
            to the where did this
                                    weekend go.

The alram sounds, then the race
             to the end of the weekned
starts,finishing as we count mistakes
     of days that we catch on to a friday.

Your here now, were sorry I missed you,
              but the weekend is ours..
  no leaving, were just us, me and you.

            I've missed more than just your body,
           missing your breath on me,
                but now were here in this moment,

long live every weekend when your next to me.

I was a pebble skimmed along the
waters of life, but we only brush on
the surface so many times.

Till we eventually sink below and
rest in eternity with all the other pebbles
once thrown in the waters of essence.

Once Individuals,
Lustful Gratification,
Nectar infuses...

Never trust an angel,
            as my demons
knew where there angelic
                               spot was.

And all you heard was,
              oh Jesus, oh Jesus
forgive me for I have …………………..

A flaming grain birthed from heavens rage, did plant
Upon soft soil, and flames flowered upon the land.

Pollen of death did seed the air as all was consumed
In its beauty spreading its birth on new ground.

All who envisioned it where silenced, and ash was
There rebirth as they were as everything nothing.

A seed feel from the darkness and brought its birth
To our land, petals fell and silence rained down.

My ink isn't dry,
it just heeds the needing of release,  
   and in this moment it is reserved
                  behind a dam of wowful thinking.

Will I unleash the gates, or stem the tide of
                                                           discontent.
Letting it linger in pools of what I feel deeper
                                       than what others think.

A puddle is an illusion,
for it can linger in minimal space,
                 but beneath it
is a lagoon of sadness
                   that swallowed all I now think.

whispers stay hidden
secrets verified on lips
obscured never told

Humanity is losing its infinite
wisdom of recognition.

The penny were losing is more
precious than any material.

We are defeated in the essence
of our humanity that is dwindling.

"Our humanity is that which echoes on our being,
*"The substance that makes us more than not,

I'm a trapeze artist of  word
             flying through sentences,



But
           then I
                        fell
                             and my words
didn't balance so well.
We
all
falter
on
our
meaning.

We just have to realize,
           that were cant balance
       all the time, sometimes words fail..

I am a warrior of the pen, my words
Cutting to into you like butter, beware
Your tongue as my pen is shaper
Than any words that you inflict
Upon me, My ink would
Leave you gasping for breath.

I will write you down, I will say
With words that which can bring
A tear to the eye, to make you
Feel emotions as you  have never
Felt before. A single word is more
Powerful and longer lasting than
Any spoken word.

I have a pen that is mightier than any
Sword, it will out last any of your weapons
While  turning to rust & blunt, my pen
Will still bleed words cutting in to the
Paper, words that have always beaten a sword.

I am a warrior of the pen, there are
Many that use, ink, paper & pen to spread
Words that can bring any emotion out with
But a movement  of the pen and thought.

Little sapling growing between a rock and a hard place.
Weathering what life is surrounding you. No friends of yet
but you are only a sapling give it time. Moments passing
watching scenery elope to shifting seasons beauties.

Sea air invigorating as rain trickled from above dancing on
your now maturing leaves, tickling as each one weaved its
way down, like teardrops they descended on there journey
of life carrying on.

The Cliffside sighs, and teardrops of rocks descend,
woeful of those this motion that swept away, beauty
that clung silently there. The sapling is of branches
and leaves giving needed shelter to tired wings.

Seasons whisper by as the sun and moon dance above
her gaze. Roots delicately weave deeply into the Cliffside
keeping here steady, for if it were to sigh again her fate
steadfast in this place between a rock and a hard place.

Her leaves happened upon a blossom, so delicate in
its serenade of colour against the harsh rock face.
Like a parent when winds were bleak shielding its
frailty with branch and leaves, it only lost a petal this time.

She flowered in the seasons, blossom invigorated the
surroundings of what was bleak, like teardrops of love
for a time they painted vivid etchings on the Cliffside
till they faded nourishing those of lesser stature.

As she yawned on the morning rising above the
horizon, she felt motions upon her leaves.
Never in her time had she felt such gentle touches,
as palms glided over her foliage.

Feeling the breeze from up high, the cliffs edge she
had flourished in growth, now little eyes saw her
in full blossom as the seasons had changed.
Laughter ensued when gusts eloped with blossom.

Pink and light shades of magenta danced between
children, a fence keeping wondering thoughts safe
from the fallen dreams at the bottom of the Cliffside.
Leaves caressed the winds and she was content.

Watered down words cascading
down my mind, flowing to the edge
where the words like a water fall
crash to my mouth.

Many waterfalls do I have for thoughts,
memories, all flow splashing on the
rocks stored in them till I need them
once again to flow out to be thought.

My mind many places pools of thought,
captured till the time they fall down the
waterfall in my mind, becoming words
used by the fingers or voiced as words,
far have they had to fall.