I could never read
                             tealeaf's,
because I thought it tasted
like nicotine flooded ashtrays..

translating censorship was like
                                         morse-code,
for every breath serenaded my
                                    lack of interest..

Life is not about words its about actions,
to few and you'll be but a shadow lost
in the night.

Let your actions show your worth,
not words as they are just air and too many
are full off it.

Nails clambering on soft soil,burrowing into earth.
Noises gesture movement, then where nails were
pristine now broken and bleeding on dirt.

Depleted actions fade on clambered soil, no further
to what was sunken beneath. A glimmer like mist
fades, as tears of rain fall in only one place.

She will wait repetitively an endless cycle greets,
He took her heart, all she wants to do is now hold
his crushing it beneath her fingertips.

Dilemmas of inconsistent reflections
                   never looking at the same
                                                    mirror.

Where cracks seem like gorges of
            incompatible strains upon
                                          morality.

But there is a way to not look in
               deliberation upon false
                                  impressions.

Look within each other, not the warped
                           reflection conflicting our
                                                    humanity.

Luminosity never graced this place It
was eclipsed in a pool of nothing,my
Eyes were as if closed but open. I was
Blind to even my breath as if none had
Escaped in times now gathering dust.

Shadows where none should linger,
Petrified in a state of inanimate animation.
But they moved so slightly my mind
Watched as forms were as once.  Now others
Took the places in this vacant darkness.

I was frozen in this claustrophobic
Cimmerian shade. It held me in place never
Letting me shudder a muscle. It kept me
Like the dead stale and silent, I was excepting
The thought that this was no room of loneliness.

I was kept in this place of echoes that had no
Place to go, blank anticipation was etched in
A featureless expression that was never viewed
Upon for who looks in the dark places where
No one ventures except the recently deceased.

I never saw what happened I just no that I am
Alone in this place. Suffocated in onyx's Heavy
Grip, my lonely room of despair where the
Shadow that fell was my own. I am silent
In a soundless darkened place,  *"I'm so alone,

Meant to be a friend of those of lost
Teeth, collecting all calcium of baby
Moments falling out to the moment
Of growing youth. Now soon to be
Turning from a time of innocence.

But calcium of those pure of heart
Were not adhering to nature, staying
In longer no longer the rush of what
Was. Now a slow season of teeth falling
A fairy of white need her rush.

Forbidden from youth a line not to
Be crossed, but those of aged youth,
Teeth for the picking, an abundant
Supply of the white stuff. a glint in
The eyes of the bleached pegs.

In sleep they purged with sandman
Dust, blooded gums of what was once
A set. Now but a blooded mess, so
Many white taken even the yellow and
Black, crimson bled from every mouth.

Beware her with hunger in her eyes, of
Blooded gums, she craves what fell from
Innocence, but now feeds on any  that
Are pure or tainted to get her rush, Sleep
Soundly all, and keep your mouth shut.

I inhale it, i inject it in to my heart. Its the dust
That penetrates my pores, that love I,ve been
Inhaling even though some times it has
Shattered my heart.

The dust of love is addictive, specially once
A heart is broken. More is needed to mend the
Cracks to mend the feelings. Shattered in this
Dust filled aching heart.

I am addicted to this dust, I need it for my heart.
I'm not the only one but there are dangers, because
If a heart is broken it can lead to your death.

Because some times the dust is not enough to mend,
The soul decays because it misses the other beat.
Fleeting and faint leading away from the heart.

Inclinations were vetted to the linear
attributes of  my desires, for so long
I had never wavered in the ideology
of your unwavering intentions.

But then I awoke to visualize the knowing
that I had believed falsehoods of a yearning
heart, Never true to itself confused by the
complex wordings of what you meant.

I wandered through crowds of silence,
my heart never uttering a moment fatigued
by what was contemplated. and then I realized.
"Where had the love gone, and both were silent

A fluency within a displacement
                                 of symmetry.
      Empathy lingers after factual
      embers leave charcoal stains.

                 The nib static,
                                          so much
                          without a gesture
                                  of movement.

Tasting his lips,
              distinct like sour milk.
She tasted his undeserved
aroma of ill fated discretion.

Never trust one
who tastes like
              wilted moments,
only those of fresh blossomed intentions.

Somewhere in this world
someone will be writing
this down, word for word.

"A doppelganger of thought,

Wondering what the other looks
like as they expel this on to white.
Words mirroring conciseness.

Woven in ivory petals that adorn its
motions, a visual representation of
peace upon the visual stimulus that
will fly into the yonder of wishes.

But within this parcel of bleached
entitlement hiders a delirium that
isn't pondered upon with eyes
visualizing are secret not wanting.

For the optic perceptions are sunken
in extinction, a door to the soul and these
are parched darker than oblivions depths.
Tears never fall in the depths of a void.

*"Beauty has a secret, look within its sight,

"No,* "No, "No,

I don't wear shoes that's a silly notion
How would I do the laces up?
Trailing like spaghetti I would trip over
More time than walking silly things

"No, "No, "No,

What do I wear wing mittens to keep me
Warm in the cold months, what a silly
Sight I never found a pair odd ones worn
Snagging on trees, my falling out the air.

"No, "No, "No,

I don't use a hankie when I sneeze, last time
I did that I singed my poor nose, if I ever feel
One coming close I put my nostrils in the water
letting it out. Walla I have an instant warm bath.

"Too many questions little one now my turn,

What can I scratch behind an ear yes inwards,
Outwards ,potatoes I some times find if a while
Has past, "Why do you ask?

Am I good at getting thinks out of teeth, brushing
You say? yes a tooth pick I carry around just in case,
Healthy teeth are a must you'll never see me with
Missing teeth I brush morning and night each day.

"Do you have a pet,

I like to walk to, do you have good legs no aches in
The knees, "I would feed you, "What, I would
Feed my pet well chargrilled to perfection every
Meal never without would they be,"cough, you.

This was an interesting talk all because I asked one question?
"Does a dragon wear shoes,
"A dragon doesn't wear shoes,
But enough of this, would you like your steak lightly grilled
Or well done "burnt, he thought was another word.

Confessions of  a dull blade, it tasted life as it
seeped and sealed death with Its last ******.

It was inanimate but had existence of life seeped
in to its hilt,Voices silent trapped under the hand

Their grip soaking sealing in fallen silence, looking
in to the eyes of so many and then kissed there forehead.

A last rite the au revoir as the dull blade made slow
Work of a mummer, words bleed silence out.

They cherished this moment of intimacy, this personal
Exchange, of life and death, slumped on soiled ground.

Dull blade, tainted handle, of voices silenced this inanimate
Object of desire that crafted by another's macabre thoughts.

Blood congeals as life condenses into nothingness, walking
Away the dull gift takes it now pride of place.

I put all religious texts in library
in the over
   eighteen fiction section.

For who would let a child ponder
           on the dualities of moral
discomfort, and the lessons of
  what ponders beneath the page.

For the lessons are a contagion on
      young minds. These books
choose the morals of an age bygone.

These books have been a disease on
the morality of humanity. yet they are
         fiction a duality of horror and beauty.

But lest we forget that the horrors within
should not be shackled on a mind young.

   So that is why I put those religious books
           in the over eighteen section..
In every library I visit,

              am I wrong or right...

               You decide....

I whisper into the thoughts of those ill conceived,
all listened to the unwelcome references of truth.

Delving into the thoughts of all subconscious and
listening to the words that expel from lips.

Adversary I'm the truth and ill make thoughts bleed.

The breeze whispered to a fairy that
it could smell her most foul wind,
She looked on with tiny eyes and
clonked it not once but twice between
its misty eyes.

A fairy doesn't breath a foul bouquet
upon the air I breath. It is fairy dust
that we pump, and it smell like candy
floss breath. Now jog on windy,
ones brewing between me knees.

A leaf falls downwards,
Rainbows of colour meet me,
Winter is coming.

Embalmed figurines dance over sight
never eclipsing totally the seen light.
entombing me in lingering static stances    
I am but a victim of unforeseen circumstances.

Withering within empty reflections
neither of motion or of my objections.
A fly in trap where life was the attraction
but now I'm just apart of its decaying distraction.

I counted to ten with its transfixed appendage
but ideal thoughts were lost within my lenses.
Withering away, I'm a prisoner of loves holding,
keeping me blind from its truth in moulding.

A fish wanted to express its artistic nature,
using a ink colour pen it drew words.

But they were washed away as thoughts are.

Caged within cellophane mirages,
              swimming on promises that suffocate.

With every footstep...

                     If only I had two more steps...  

Reality suffocates slowly...

For he hurled  the stone,
                            casting it with anger...


And so the first sin was sewn..
                   For the wrath of another showed
that we were the picture of god,


If we were imperfect,
                then our creation was flawed
beyond the reflection of our birth.

The stone was never perfect but
                    flawed when created.

I thought the world would go out with chaos
and zombies, at least the walking dead,
it would be like wow.

But alas it wasn't meant to be,
it went out with silence. Well near enough.
The day before I was being my usual accidental
self, I looked right, the way the traffic was coming!

Yes I didn't look left, who knew some pensioner
wouldn't look at the road in forgotten pools
that shimmered sight on there eyes.

Look listen, look again my mother used to say..
Now as I traverse the air, I feel myself broken.
But in a flight almost unending, till I land, limply.

I thought the world would go out with chaos
and zombies, at least the walking dead would
be like wow...

But we take many steps, we walk so many in life,
then we die. but some imagine there life as continual
that they'll have footprints that will last.

As I lie here feeding the pavement my life,
every step is a chosen one. We must not waste them,
for it takes only one step to become static.

I see people rushing over to my fastening breath,
how would have thought that out of the millions
of steps I had taken this would be my last.

Life is one word at a time, like a step we never
know what will be in that instant.

Not the past, as that has dried and the footstep has faded.

The future is still a white page not yet touched upon.
And a footstep that hasn't even trod upon as its not been made.

We must see where we stand, and what the words that
are thoughts now sweep upon the page...

A free mind is a friend to the
     conciseness of ones being.
                     While those of a static thought,
only live within the
                             words of ignorance
         that blinds those who should see already..

I never doubt when I close
my eyes that I'll awaken
               to those eyes shut
waiting for the words
                          "I love you"

That cheeky smile yawning,
        stretching into a new morning.
And your first words are
                                    "Coffee"
Her first love, then me.

I never wish the days away,
   but I look forward to opening
my eyes after every sunset.
   for when the morning
      awakens I see you before my sight

Echoes of you reverberate,
yet your scent still lingers,
while I'm alone with an
                                     afterimage
in the bed to caress an empty space.

Age
Brings
Knowledge
That the young yet need to learn...

A million snowflakes submerge,
                             a blanket of life.
Now static,
      a grave of white
     hides its crime.
Until the forgotten are found, buried once again
in unmarked tombs of silence.
          Once again forgotten in a blanket of earth.

My bag had a tiny hole in it,
are they neither here or there.
rolling in directions not seen
but I know I had a handful
less than a moment ago?
ever thought your losing your marbles.

Strangling upon the reflection
of self,laughing as ones own
hand engulfing  the voice trying
to expel the words of
                                  "Help me.

Amusing, ones own words
                   crying for comfort.
But finger tips swallow regrets.

Her demons spoke upon
         her fingers, play things
of woeful intentions.

"We can help you find fulfilment,

Her hands are stronger than one first
thought, gripping me to sleep.

A mind stays awoken, within the clasping
moments of ones self devised demise....

A hazy mildew hung over the morning
The sky, ever since they fell all was putrid
Nothing was as I remember. I think of
The days before ideal thoughts melted.
Now all is shadows upon sights gaze.

But then hours of thawed ideas diminished
To what is this moment now. How could
All have fell to this un-concentrated moment
As we all feel in to disarray. Not a condensed
Sense but mayhem on a global scale.

One domino is a moment where we would
Stand or fall in perfect symmetry, one after
Another we stagnated to oblivion. How could
We let this become our legacy of what we had
Done, become. now scurrying on a sinking ship.

But some would not go down we would hold the
Tide before the surge, never letting even a wave
Break over us. For to let this overtake would be
Our eventual downfall. Humanities last thread of
Civilisation would descend in to  extinctions grasp.

But we were the once time blessed, I don't believe
In all that crap, but I was here for a reason. Lets leave
It at that stale mate. No matter what others say to that
Much argued fact. we are a echo of the past fact, but
We moved on never looking, pondering are way back.

I get dizzy thinking of the past thoughts and blame as
this hazy mildew hung over ever moment I was alone.
I spiralled in to unknown dreams of that place I descended
Into this place I find myself. This infinite moment of
What could have been and uneventfully changed.

I walked upon the overgrown fauna as it grasped
For attention from my ****** movements, but it
Was an inanimate passing that didn't regurgitate
A constructive second thought. Could I let this
Be my final curtain. never I had to much to lose.

Dam the stupidity of the many to uphold all
Thought upon a single individual. A lapse in
Even a moment conjoined to this single sentence
That blurted in a thousand moments all at once.

"I don't want to die I have so much to live for,

Words are meaningless when no one is listening
And we wondered the landscape. it was a single
sentence "Am I all that is alone in this world,
Surrounded by others blindness of thought.

We wondered as one but we were singular, each
A moment conspiring to thoughts of I will survive
I will be the one standing, when all others fall.
A hazy mildew hung over the morning sky.

Whispered glee at the candy bleeding into
the mindless one, from cauldrons swirling
In wrapped confection. a dancing skeleton
Singing "I ant got no body, heard from
Down the spooktacular street.

"A spoonful of sugar a ghostly chant,
" Candy with no body, no sins charged to eat,

The owl with eyes wide open swoops unseen,
Its talons take a chocolate mouse fallen from
A sack or two nibbled to freedom now ingested
All that is noticed is a single feather of the street.

"Trick Or Treat,
"Your soul we'll eat,
"Be it sugary, be it sweet,
"We'll eat our fill on this hallows eve,


Jack-o'-lantern with eyes a glow, with each sweet
Delight you hear a cackle and glow, as an empty
Head gets fuller, this ghostly candy of sugar, melted
On orange skin, a face of fright now sugared glow.

Many tales told on this night, but when that
Door beckons a call, remember these words

"Trick or treat, penny or a sweet,

Be it cane or be it gold, be it silver or be it cold.
Let the ghouls have their fun, for soon the clock
Will turn and all the chocolate will be gone to eat.

Charred beats reverberate consuming
all entities of loves embrace,  like Ivy
suffocating its needed rhythm.

Arteries suffocate with the lack of
perception withering to a husk, dormant
and unwanted like a wilted rose.

*It is ideally throw away...

My heart was but solid stone
Surrounded by carved cold bone,
The beats had all but now flown
That moment entombed and sewn.

Could  I ever greet another's heart
Or would each feeling tear us apart
Better to be ending this at the start
Cold stares greet, now you do depart.

My feelings like thorns now do bleed
Signs on a face, words etched to read.
A heart no longer lives, no longer in need,
All that now grows is hatreds ****.

My heart is like loose change,
some times that lucky penny
is lost and never refunded.

But some times that little coin
that was just covered in lint is
rubbed and a new gleam is found.

*"Can you dispense a moment and spend
a thought on each others heart beats,

Clinical repuacutions of what was enveloped
within the veins of congealed suffocation.

It could not reprise the roles of what was
before only repeating the loses entangled.

This is a heart of confiscated emotion and
it would orbit would not encompass false feelings.

*"A heart chained to the melodies of heart ache
              maybe anchored, never to rise again.

Fate had found me to
wipe me from existence,
it had travelled through
the void to turn me to
ash by its calculated design.

I had survived a hundred
life times, each life time
my memory wiped clean,
I never remember the space in
between, but now there is
no where to hide I have
hiddenfor a hundred life times.

Fate had found me, grappled
its eternal grip around me,
why should you live, but
why should I die. A hundred
life times has this soul lived,
you have burned through
time each a mark in fate has
been cast, for once passed
you live again never do
you cross the divide.

It is not a crime to live again,
my thoughts do not survive,
but only in this hundredth
life time do I remember, the
losses the lies,my regrets as I
have wished loved ones goodbye.

Now you wish to fate me
to turn my soul to ash, never
be reborn never to be anything
again, to long have you not
travelled the divide fate must
be corrected I'm sorry you must die.

I waited for the end, the touch,
for my soul to die, but I was
across the divide with those
who had past my family friends
from those from a hundred life
times, I hadn't died my soul
was just returned to where
it began in the divide..

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.

Where all flavours in life,
                                   never does one taste the same.
but some are similar, close friends that are shades
so varied  but tastes just slightly different from the other.
We think we no choice to our flavour of life.

We think where all trapped within a vacuum of a world
where we think we have  no choice
                                                       but to be either this or that.
But where all different flavours that have more choice
than we realise. we just have to look outside the Jar.

Finding that even though were enclosed,
                  that we don't have to be just one flavour in life,
that we can be a mixture of varieties.
No one has to taste the same life is never just
              Blue,
                         Green, or Orange,
Were what ever flavour we wish, ever changing in life.

Venom was collected within the vessels of my
beating rhyme, irregular of the  perception that
was visualized outside this vessel of reactions.

You held on to the visage of what kept you sedated
to the whims of a thousand whips. Lacerating on
the feelings bleeding deep within you.  

Your afflictions were textures that I fed upon.
You were a succubus that I  was nourished on.
All were  play things of loves gullible folly.

I am flying a kite in the
                            voidness of wind.
Only my thoughts are the
                                  breath  that moves
its silhouette.

I stood at the zebra crossing,

              looking both ways,
nothing not a whisper of noise.

As I took those steps like the
            beetles crossing it a million
times on album covers... silence...


No music, just blood red visuals,
  a kaleidoscope of regrets.

Then I awoke, daydreaming
towards the zebra of negative
                      and plus footsteps.

This time, times? I stepped side ways.
         but I got hit by a I think a bicycle.
I flew over me like a eagle, wings aloft.

Then crumpled on the other side of the road,
             alive but like a wounded animal..
crying in pain.

But me I was a void less crease of red smudges,
    painting the road a ***** crimson.
The white now pink with regrets.
           Like a paint brush thrashed everywhere
everyone was touched by my suffering.

But never the less, I once again walked
    towards my fate, not realising,
                        actions versus  consequences


add up.

But when I walked this well trodden path,
     I always looked left, right, even up...

Never down though. My shoe laces were untied!!

           This couldn't be my achilleas heal,
the focal point of my despair.
I counted the string knots, each unbreakable to this point.

looking down, I tied my lace.
                        awaiting this knot to fulfil
                                                    it purpose.
but instead someone tripped over me,

crashing to the ground, a heap of humility.

But then the truth engaged on me,
                       they were behind me!
I only slightly remembered a nudge,
but I thought that was the impact.
                Lost in the trauma of every parting.

It was them every time, I suffered because
of them. Who are you? why would you do that!
They just looked at me and said, because I can.
Getting up they ran, but fate knew this path well.

Someone had to take a fall, and so as he lay there,
          A heap of regrets. bloodied and smiling.

He said, I needed to change my fate,
                      but you tied the last knot,
                                   and broke the loop.

I just wanted to live, you were no one.

Then I looked at him, I am someone,
    I'm the one who watches you die.

Words are echoing through
the sins of a heart,
            but some are worth the guilt
of what may wash away on our reflections.

But with every fool there is a knight
       that has fallen for the moment of love
that shines his armour brightly.
Somethings were meant to glisten on a heart.

Occasionally a heart cant but listen to the
             hymens of what reverberates within
                   the echoes of every breath of love.
Sometimes emotions are a lifetime in a singular beat.

I wish to scream, to explode
the mirror in front of me, I
see unclean, I see weakness
within me.

I wish I could hit out, to remove
this fear with in, to hide the marks
given to me for just being me.

My rage and anger are deep, but to
you I am weakness never a chance
to fight back as you stain my child
hood with violence bruises where
others can not see.

You install terror and fear, is this a
life worth this much pain will it
ever end will I be free.

Silent screams at the mirror as I see
only weakness that you have made
me feel, I am, I will not give up I
maybe just a child but I will grow
and then one day the fear you will
fear will not be on me but retribution
for the push bag you made me..