Your a
memory I
want tattooed in to my mind....

We are of a different cloth, we would
bleed and a verb or syllable would be seen.
Not just our a momentarily seeping of
our essence that leaves our imprint on
where it fell it is a clarity in ink.

We are of a different thought, we see
the world not of sight but reflection
of conduct that is beauty displayed
in perceptions that others don't linger
on, to them its a tree each is a venture.

We are of a different moment, we collect
every second that we each will be inspired
to reverberate that exact collection of being.
But another that sees upon that afterimage
will be versed in a direction anew.

"Inkers see the world different,
*"Were a kaleidoscope of metaphor and imagery.

I was birthed from darkness
into light the echo of that time
still lingers within with each write.

I am a carousel of emotional wisps
that coalesce on the page in forms,
that are only known through thought and pen.

I am neither a child of darkness or light,
I existed between the twilight, my ink seeks
no praise just to read it is enough.

I am a inker of words that are from thought
to form, and I am in this for me not others
some cant digest what I ink and what they read.

*"I thank all who read my ink and see you on the next that is seeded,

Ink never loses its
                     meaning

Time only fades it..

  Everything wrote will
           always have an
                            interpretation..

But to you it will never tarnish...

Driving along then a heard a murmur and the
hairs on my neck crept up,
                                                I looked behind.....

Seeing myself in the back seat, "Don't turn around,
I reacted in fright, I angled my view to see
                                                           nothing before my eyes?

Swinging back, I saw lights eclipsing in my sight,
then the impact. I awoke up in the back seat, the force
had severed me from my seat, I was disembowelled.

As my life bled out I looked in the rear view mirror
seeing myself
                        I said
                                 *"Don't turn around,

We are our own stairs
        everyday climbing higher.
We may fall,
          but inside we get up and brush off.
Climbing those steps of inner strength again...

These eggs were as frail as bone
appealing to the senses, we own
each one but hidden within each was
something unknown and motions pause.
 
Listen quietly to these eggs of delight
hearing the whimper of something quite
not right. For every egg that is broken upon
a wisp escapes into our world, life withdrawn.
 
He took two the chest, surprised as I waited alone,
eggs breaking whispers heard of things unknown.
The secret ingredient departed bunnies lingering soul,
swapping a portion of yours to consume is there goal.

We are all leaves that fall,

its just whether we fall of our own free will.
Is it when innocence is no more

                       that we cant hold on and descend to temptation.

Have you ever read
              Something so stupid

It felt that your brain just
      Commited intellectual
                        Suicide.

Some people need to lesson
      There vowels
        Keep there syllable dribble

On the inside.

     Because when I listen to
           Some people my brain

Wants to commit suicide.

Whisper your intent into a jar and seal it with wax,
burying it under a bed of thorns that will bleed words into form.

Then as they fall in silence those words decay in form,
but words last as long as they are heard and so every year
a new flower will once again scribe them in to form.
Ready for the time when they will speak in fallen descent.

They whisper in beauty but their  true meaning of what was
spoken is shown in decay, where the truth of sealed intent
shows its worth.

Garnet lanterns delve before ones
            static existence,
                      are the motions really ceased
or does life whisper mutely in exhaled melodies....

Enveloped in this casket of riddled
Darkness, eyes are the only source
Of white, I scratch at them myself.

Extinguish the beckoning light , I
am gorged on the blanket that
covers me, it caresses thoughts

I am entwined in this place inside,
My mind is a web of onyx capturing
Thoughts corroded and entrapped.

Every breath is a balloon
    rising and floating away.

We never hold onto them,
as its nicer to watch
                         them soar.

And who want to hold on,
  when we have our
           feet on the ground.
And can watch them dance in the air.

In the light there are no secrets
everyone can see, no voices are
needed, judgment of others with
a first look, no need for talking
already preconceptions of what
is seen.

The light shines it shows the
flaws the beauty that can be seen,
we see what we wish it hides
nothing, for the light opens up
everything to what can be seen.

We see with are eyes, judgment
what we seem to wear, a voice
heard not caring only what seen
with eyes.  We can judge before
knowing, for those may be a
friend but for the shallow looks
are the most important things.

The light shines upon us, showing
the racism, sexism, the look of
one not liking another in the light
hatred can easily breed. there is
much beauty around, but it can
lead to misconceptions as people
look on the surface as light only
shows the outside, not what cant
be seen.

We all must move past this, as its
not what we see on the outside but
the beauty that can be within.

I had slept the transcendent hibernation
encompassed in viscous lullabies of slumber
But the tide had changed and I was aroused
In panicked awakenings my eyes opened wide

In thoughts of confusion I was not of sound
reasoning, clambering on a wanting of breath I
lunged at what was abundant around myself.
Fear eclipsed my thoughts and I was static in motion.

Silence greeted my realization as I inhaled a single
ending breath, but I was of calm as I gained another.
I was of this realm of immersion, the mists of
confusion cleared and I swam into the deep.

Once Individuals,
Lustful Gratification,
Nectar infuses...

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..

Little winged one of murky wings
do flutter in origami folds. To glide
in endless times engulf that needing
of seeing where in twilight all is a
shadow and all is seen within the night.

Quiver unseen but felt unto the breeze,
a shudder unfolds on their shadow in
ease, you taste upon droplets of fear.
Little origami wings do grace into
the flightless moments their but unseen.

Your shadow convulses in its presence,
Knowing subconsciously what it needs.
But you are but connected separates that
Could not be further apart. Like a puddle
swimming, nearly drowning in your depth.

It unfolds into form, for unseen like an
extension not noticed by self, a shadow
not as should seen. tiredness as into shadows
Of lost moments its delves ever deep. unravelling
it seeds into the darkness a continuation breaths

It departs for a shadow replenishes and its parts
Now origami folds in need of shadow will dance
upon every motion to unfold and feed, the cycle
is ever in motion, for twilight is its birth and life
its nourished in obscurity forever to feed.

.

I write this as i dip
in my quill where words
will be hidden from view
f



or every dip that is done
then words from view now seen
then fading from vie



w. What is a word if not seen or
looked upon by me or you, as
i dip in my quill for the final time.
Can this be understood  filled in the
spaces that



would escape a mind if not for
imagination filled in the spaces
by words choosen by me or you.

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.

My mind is like a collapsed lung,
I try to breath in unimpeded speculation
that will not be tainted by the deflated
breath on my sanity.

I have to exhale deep into my mind
but I can't deal with the intentions that
serenade on my thoughts like a canary
singings its death song in a felines jaws.

Welcome to my mind tucked in quick
sinking dejection, but there is no place
only the perceiving moments.
My derelict thoughts are hard to linger.

You were my crypt kepper,
      Always standing over
                  My lonely heart.


I passed, but you were the one.



            The only chime in the bell,



That beat every time you were near.


     But I was always a murmer,
That you could hear.

            And even though I was


Lost too early.

   You were travelling my path,
           an echo to what I was following


                   Which was you.

I will put a spell on you to do
what I want, I will make you
moo like a cow or hop like a
frog. I control you now you
are mine, to do as I wish at
any time.

I control you to do things that
I want, you think this is some
thing that its really not, I tell
you this, you think your doing
that. My smile just grows as
you do all the crap jobs that I
will not.

A wave of the hand some words
said, So simple a spell to take
control and make you do this
and what is said. I love taking
control, and making you do the
things that your told to.

But then came the day when the
wrong word was said, and you
obeyed my ever word and I ended
up dead. Free from my words now
that I'm gone,did I take it to far as
you grin now that its done, and
give a kick for good riddance happy
now that you are free and I am gone.

I slept the cold night in my black sleeping bag
Quietly I slumbered, not removed yet the price tag
My hair caught in the teeth, yet I was still time did drag
I was of the notion of underdressed in just my rags.

Eyes wide open on the bench, oblivions vision
I was exposed for all to gaze upon eyes on collision
Was I wanting to be here? that was not my decision
Feeling I was missing myself as opened up for excision.

I was silent that whole time my lips never shifted,
lonely as my belongings now strewn and sifted
I gave others my unwanted, each hopeful now gifted
Death was a silence I was gone but now I am lifted

Woeful echoes of mine
                               reverberate
through realities veil and you shudder.

Whispering cherished moments leave
                                         pinpricks
upon your skin.

Unheard heartache chills your
                                             breath,
I sadden you even in death...

The weight of my sanity was
like a feather sinking below
a sea of nothingness.

Into depths of distraction
my reflections ebbed of
the darkness swallowing me.

But when silence envelopes all,
I'm inactive of motion but at peace
within a shell of my conciseness

I saw the devil and he was man.

"He who can **** a brother is the testament,

I saw the heavenly one and she was woman.

"She who cradles life and sees beauty in everything,

We are that which we can not see or understand.
We are that which is the opposite but need both in life.

Cheerful glee at what was persuaded with marshmallow
Eyes plucked upon a branch and then roasted with what
Could be seen, as shock set in shaking like a piñata

Hot sauce marinated and then these emerald whites toasted
Just right, Chewing on the gate way to their inner self. I always
Found them chewy like calamari, I wonder if they see it all.

Taking fingers on their throat, I check for a pulse, then I jump
A mile in another's shoes as there hand clenching on mine.

"Help me,
                 "Please,
                             "I heard them leave?

Cheerful thoughts persist on a serrated edge, like a donkey
Chasing a stringed carrot I heed their words,

"Who did this to you,
                                       "Are they still near,
                                                         ­                "I'll get help wait here,

Running in to the woods circling around I skip In jestful glee,
I  walk back and scream in terrified murmurs.
"No please I wont tell I promis......,

Screams echo like rainbows through the trees, but no one
Will hear them, no *** of gold at the end of this echo, maybe
Pie, this work is hungry. Cherrie I eat as I watch them squirm.

I see the milk of life ebbing out of them feeding the earth like
Crimson cornflower it coagulates. I have a primordial urge
To taste upon the hunt, I have tasted before, succulent like chicken.

But I look around such beauty chestnut trees remind me of youth
So much has changed but stayed the same. I look at what is passed
And like the past all things end, whispering in ears hushed thoughts.

"Nothing personal its just that time of the month,
"I need to do this I don't know you, but I needed your eyes,
"You see i don't, but with each one i consume i see a little more,
"You will not gaze again but i will thanks to the feed,

I hate seeing this part as i lift a branch and close
The other gate way, not much force is needed just
A sturdy branch.

They gyrate for a moment then silence and I see my misgivings
But they gave me their gift now i see and next time I will use
A little less hot sauce as my sight burns a little to much.

Well see you all again and thankyou for looking through
My eyes did you like what you saw what was seen.

Sinister expectations were delivered in charcoal
script, it had coalesced in a quagmire of words
on the page. My thought lingered in onyx vapour.

Nightfall awakens my deranged scribing's, I hear the
voices crawling inside my veins controlling my fingers
progressions. Pretty little obscurity in my thoughts.

Midnight opens irrational rantings, I syringe the
bleeding ink that haemorrhage's from my pores.
Decayed ink frayed on the sides, my darkness in words.

My hand didn't want to awaken those abjections
but the ink wondered aimlessly on the paper.
Sullen  episodes were like a cloud on the page.

Mists of what was like heavy dew on my
mind, thoughts drooped uncontrollably.
Then they conceded under strain descending.

Ink was abstract as I never understood why
I felt this incosectant need to cry every thought
on paper. My reflection is not what I feel inside.

I took it in hand it bled my pain, crimson ink
was entombed on each stroke my torment spilt
with ever increasing momentum.

But you can only bleed so much before you run
dry and emaciated your mind slowly puts that
red inked pen down, you bled enough on the page.

But now the thoughts have died, your wanting
to bury this that was ill conceived. Truths that
your mind thanks but your eyes cant handle truth.

I see what you
did there....

But I'm not falling
for it...

I'm not going to read
any further..

Do you no why??

Its because I'm
reading this...

In short bursts
that elongate a few...

Words

To make some thing
that means nothing.

But I'm still reading
this "How.....

I see what you did there...

**THE END...

Well I was five minutes late, mum
Chucked me out the door,

"I have a letter from school mum,

"Been in trouble again, no change there,

I waited for the bus but never turned up

"Great she'll think I missed it on purpose,

I jumped on my bike, ill show her, no phone
Call saying I never turned up. I pedalled like
My lungs were going to burst, The school yard
Was empty  "Crap, "Crap, I ran in thinking
I was Late the doors lock at a certain time only
Opening in case of serious emergencies.

"Sorry I'm late Miss Hoper,
"The Bus never turned u.......,

The class was empty, I heard a noise from the store
Cupboard? I listened and heard moaning

"No way Miss Hoper is getting it on,

Was I early? had the clocks gone back and mum
Forgot? I giggled at the thought of catching her
With her silks around her ankles. Camera at the
Ready, 1, 2, 3.... OK don't be a chicken.
What can they say or do, 1, 2, 3.. I opened
The door clicking away 12mp clear as day.

"Miss Hoper surprise,

Dam Miss you look  "Fugly, not looking
Your best this morning.

"I'd say she was a six as far as teachers go,

Her hair was like a drunk had shaven in the dark,
"What big nails you have,
"What  sharp teeth you have,
"What the hell? how ***** you are this morning,

What was I doing I sounded like I was reading the
Three little pigs. Miss Hoper was the wolf.
I had a voice repeating in my head, but I looked
Beside her and saw the reason for the closed door.
**** Peterson was lying their, reaching out as
If he knew how this was playing out to the end.

She licked her tooth, her lacerated tongue bleed,
No pain more pleasure was on her face as she
Drank upon herself. I stepped back as I knew
That I was within her sights. Her fingers gestured
Across Micks throat and his hand slumped silently
On the ***** cupboard floor, his eyes emptily void.

That voice once again echoed out now screaming
Into my subconscious. This time I listened.

"Run, run, run....,

As she launched upon the area I once was, heading
For the door I glanced her movement. A step behind
As I slammed the door, the walls vibrated upon the
Lockers, as I saw the luck of the keys left in the door.
The teacher launched through the panels as glass, solid
Wood was the only deterrent from her tasting my throat.

I ran through the halls each class room locked, children
Tied to the desks gnawing on themselves in an effort to
Be free. Mr Freedman was hanging their, but fate his time
Continued as he with metal cord he hung and lower parts
Torn asunder he hung their only half a man.

"HELLO, HELLO, ANYONE
"Dam I'm just telling everyone lunch is here,

I instead whisper, their is thought in my madness.

"hello, hello,
"If your not a monster,

I wondered the halls, hearing moan I'd edge towards
I could hear them sniffing as if a scent was lingering
In the air. "Could they smell me? "I'd showered though,
I pressed my cheek against the wall, looking in to
My history class, well they were history all right.
Smouldering remains of god knows what.

"Hello.....,
"Is anyone not crazy,
"What am I thinking of course they'll say no,

Looking for my prom date, is their even going
To be one at this rate? I looked in the girls locker
Room.
"What don't give me that look,
Shelly you in there is whispered, then I sneezed

"O' crap O' crap these halls echo like a church steeple,
"Just ignore that ok,

I see a foot then the faces of cheerleaders, but these
Weren't the girls I knew twisted forms tails protruding
And hair, like they have digressed to a early form,

"No not shelly,
"She was 9 now a 2.0,

She sees me, head tilts then the call, her fingers point.
That voice didn't have to scream, I was gone.
I could hear them, I wasn't looking where I was going
And clothes lined someone.

"What the hell dude,
"You ran in to me,

Your normal,
But your, I saw you dead?

"What you mean dead?
"Down that hall, eyes gouged out,

And with that a shiver like someone had
Just mosh pitted on my grave, I heard them
I went to run, down the hall, but heeded his
Story *"dude hurry up run,

"I cant my ankles all buckled,

A second later I was in the lockers, lucky I'm
Skinny, they were upon him in moments.
Their tales swinging around in the air as though
They were playing with him. Then tails wrapped
Upon him legs, arms, neck they purred and
Claws dug in as if to get a running start.....

Blood, so much blood, I bit on my jacket to cover
My scream, I  was lucky his body tore up in
Such noise that I was unseen. they took of parts
Kept for trophies or munchies who knew?
I ran down the hall, I turned and tripped over
Something? I looked down it was me...

"What the..., what the....,
"How could this be,

Then flashes in my mind, I was here when it
Started, "I turned first, I opened my mouth
And expelled it, I watched others consumed.
I locked the rooms and through a key hole
I gestured it in. watched the madness mutate
Them in to me, "I watched..

But how did I end up here?

"Think, think,

I ran down this hall, and I ran in to me,
What the hell is going on I look, into the
Trophy case, I see something not me?
I look at myself eyes void only darkness
A shell, I enter two digits in. "Empty,
I look back as I see me, but others also.

I realize I'm an echo like these halls, I fade
Into the darkness as I realize it wasn't me.

"Just memories of other mixed in with me.

"I should have played hookie today,

But now I'm empty and its roaming the halls
looking for its next feed...

Indulging on the strands of
my reflection regurgitated
in the likeness of your
                                hollowness.

I slumber like the dead.

Awoken my petals rejuvenated,
then you pick them singularly
corroding my strength to a
                                              stem.

I slumber like the dead.

My wings open as you pluck
my flight of freedom, grounding
me to the realization I'm
                                           forsaken.

I slumber like the dead,
but I'm always reborn.

My demons try to pick
apart my inner beauty.

My demons try to suffocate
my outward reflection of self.

But as long as I slumber, I rise
like a new sunrise. I may set,
but each days anew, and I will
never slumber to my demons.

I'm with deaths sister, she leaves
me in slumbers gentle caresses...

Whispering repetitions of life,
crawling upon my dormant reflections..

Breath escapes her clutch's, as I discharge
the motions she inevitably tries to hold in..

She wishes to gift her brother with a stifled
moment that leads to a reflection of nothingness...

Where she would kiss my thoughts in to oblivion,
and on his boat of sunken impulses, I settle vacant of breath.

Dormancy urges this vessel to
waiver in the processes of sight.
Each reflection an eclipse on
what is viewed from oneself.

I wish not to be repossessed  by
a motion where I'm a husk of
inactivity. Static in reality not
of my choosing but I slumber.

In the cloudiness of a mind,
I'm creating false versions of
myself, wisps of imaginings.    
But I see mirages of untruths.

I wonder like the spectral
apparition within an absence
of self. Weaving syllables of
disillusion, Yet  not of my words.

*"We slumber like death that is but a misplaced beat between both,

Woven upon the lenses of sight, I glance
upon the grace of the azure that sculptures
with a reflection upon my perception.

You are the shadow upon the light,
imaginations are weaved within the
afterimage that grazes optical nerves.

I awaken from slumbers form to the aurora
of lights construct, but even though faded
I see your image keeping luminosity company.

I was on the park bench,
             looking into the duck pond,
so many sorrows drowning within it.

Sitting in the thoughts of yesterday,
               seeing her silhouette of breadcrumbs
reminiscing of every time we where here together.


Putting my palm on the cold wood,
              I still feel her here with me.
But I look and there is just memories.

And then I hear her in the breeze,
                      whispers of peace, of love
of that moment
             when I realise she was never gone.

You where that
                    beat..

That never really caught
         that rhyme.


Collecting murmurs,
            that you cuddled up too.


But you never realised
  that you where the...
              

Missing beat that left me silent
        at the end of every night.


But I still cuddled you every weekend
           when you never caught a glance...

Even though I was the one that looked deeper
        than any glance,
        I was the one who wanted to hold you dear...