We ink the words till the thoughts dry,
             and what is left is an imprint on
                               paper of what is now an echo.

Left over moments lingering on a coffee cup,
the only kisses that were remembered were
stained in red a memory of where this painted
lips had left there singular mark.

She had kissed this taste with her thoughts on
only the aroma that lingered between each sip.
A woman of taste but a echo was left ingrained
as she dispensed her needing and left her mark

Sitting on the high stool her unmotivated palms
linger around the warmth of this enticing needing.
Languishing on it she takes one final sip, and then her
mark is one that will fade, and another's lingers on it.

Longing for the innocence
     The world lost,
               Eroded by regardless
                              Metaphors.


We were brighter than
      The stars now we ponder
Every moment as if we
               Can't respond to emotion.

Are we doing slowly,
         But don't care.

I want the world to see through
A child's eyes, and see
        that we aren't lost.  
We've just got a little misdirected.

Little monsters frolic
           pirate ships "ahoy,

Imaginations gift of play,

An invisible play-pal,  
     Creativity of a youthful mind.

Keeping monsters of night away

Doubt is a cloud hanging
              over me.

And the rain is a reminder,
            that ill never dry off.


I just want to hold up high,
                        strength,

                                                  so it keeps
me dry of tears seeping though stitches.

But on this day, I'm ill prepared and
            the clouds drown me in droplets


of high felt emotion.


                   Raining down unimpeded.

Whirlybird of gazing views
              on rotor's  you whispers
on the breeze like a hummingbird.


Hovering static as if ready to
                                             pounce,
but alas you descend.

Like the night I am alone, surrounded
By nothing but by much, I am
Like a star in the sky surrounded
By many but never more alone.
  
I am surrounded by everything,
Some times to close for comfort,
I wish for the peace of loneliness
For I am alone in myself.
  
Can I survive the noise that
Is the quiet myself, my thoughts
To loud I just wish for peace I
Am surrounded by much but
Never more alone.

She could never stare, would
Never face that which showed
Despair, it looked back through
All the scars seen but never there.

Beauty was distorted In this
representation of self, Its features
Falsified, an empty reflection
Void of seeing what was truly
There.

She brushed her hair, with eyes
Turned away, not seeing that
Which was denied, which was
her beauty. She only a violation
Of ego of self Loathing in a
Reflection that she never looked
Upon, It was dead to her never
Will she look upon It neither stare.

I wondered through moments of
Enlightened insanity,
I revelled in the freedom
Not a lucid thought.

I was upon the field, I contemplated
Defeat upon the thunder of
Voices raining from above,
But I was in combat, and I was
Slaying Those who would not follow.

Fallen beneath me thoughts, I was
A victim of my mind rebelling
Upon sane cohesion. They, me
I was at war within myself.

But after moments of screaming
Revelation, those that didn't not
Follow were dissipated echoes,
I was in control and I reviled
In the incoherent melody, I
Choose insanity over the day
To day problems of my mundane life.

Refinement woven upon the
                                   sheath of self,
purity of feelings reflected on
                 the others sensitivity,
comforts of innocence touching me.

You have much,    
                        share,
   others less fortunate give a moment for..

And life, live it with humility..
                    thoughts to think deeply..
Always remember there is always
           someone who is less fortunate than you.

                                 For no reason of there own

In a world of noise,

            you were my silence.

And I just listened to you all day.

Our trajectory was so like no other.  
so linear within it's silhouette,

gazing upon the others
                                        gravity.

We had a cycle of moments that
were like
                s
                    t
                    ­   a
                           r
                              s
Weaving between our paths, serenading
our motions entwined within the others
graces. There was nothing between us
but space, a gravity of affections.


But some times a distance can expand
                                                 in time,
Even though we once eclipsing each other.
Gazing at each other as our horizons descended
you were the gravity of my yearning for so long.

I could count the stars that shot upon our forms,
still I feel the effects, but our stars descend less often.
Maybe ours were answered previously but dreams
            
                                                   ­ only come true once.

You'll always be within my orbit, but never as
close as what gravity lingered before.
I see you, but we are just motions no longer
adjacent in the stars of our hearts.

One is a poet of verse,
                    no longer entangled
         by past misconceptions.

I'm a man of fluidic verse,
                            I weave the mentions
          of my reflections on reflective verse.

I will navigate the crests of your body
with but a traceable touch, your breath
are my s
               t
                a
                  r
                   s, showing me the ways of
your needing. Diagrams are for lesser men,
I have travelled your anatomy by mere touch.

I fade like a dead match,
                 warmth still seeps..


But within I'm charred and
           unresponsive to your words.


You once lit my world, brightening

my every emotion.


But then you just faded like
           the space between moments.

Your light was there, then gone.

I wanted to rekindle us,
          but what is spent cant be brought.

You were the match that lit my wick,
         but then you were just charred
                                                        echoes.
­
We tried to relight what was there,
            but we'd burnt out to early.

even though I was lighting up,
                our corridors.
You were no longer there,
           extinguished before our time.

I knew we couldn't strike it again,
    it wasn't me, it was you.


And even though I shone for you,
        
    you could no longer hold a flame to
me.

And you
                    we, were just flickering
on the brightness of the past

I am enveloped in the sanctity of my
own destruction and I revel in it coming.

Can you hear the footsteps that seem to
collect behind me? their my own....

Shhhh..... said the voices in my mind as
each pulled the trigger on each other then silence.

I don't tip toe through my life I'm stomping,
and then I stop and realize their those holding my coffin.

The uneatable is a mirage
        to those thirsty for an oases
of dream like delusions.

For nothing is waiting,
       Its only now that we
                 see idyllic reflections.

There aren't steps but a mirage
               of what our lives were.

Every step is our creation
                       to others dreams.
That we help with, our every
           reflection is there's to strive for...

Blemished puddles are collecting
within her reflection, they condense on
the walls of oxidized emotions.

Defective misgivings bathe within,
feeding on the algae of irregularities
that submerge beneath this glass figurine.

Unblemished words collect to swim on
the outside, perfection was bathing in smiles,
but inside she was drowning in insecurities.

In this place where we lived there were
no doors, every room had a mirror.
            A reflection of what was, is.

And each was unique to the observation
that was seen beyond the tinted
                                            frame of creation.

                  Some places were, could be,
not a complete reflection of what was
contorted and beyond the conciseness
                                           of tangibility.

For some places were either hairline fractured,
on purpose or by mistake, most of these had
                                                                ­ warnings.
            
                         "REALITY DERUTCARF RETNE TON OD,

All who entered these were doing so at there
                                         own health and life..

Some did it for the buzz,  some weren't lucky..
         The Mirror Collective,
that's a posh word for reflective reconstitutes.

Ladies and gents that fixed the flaws,
                         fragmented reflections that
could lead to either two version of reality..

An obituary of an abattoir,  
where the breaks even though hairline
were like papercuts on the flesh.
                   And where they stood is where
the pieces collected upon each other..

Some rooms were purposely fractured,
           for those who broke the rules
were kept in shard rooms..
     These were places where others of less
reputable reflections were kept.


                             Solitary confinement,
there was just a jagged piece of mirror left,
enough space for a paper plate to be left.
Once there sentence was completed  
           The mirror collective would be called
to reconstitute the whole mirror..

If they were of sound constitution, not mad...
          
Then they were reintegrated in to the society..
                                  What they didn't realise is
the lights of different frequencies
were purposely shone within there room.
            Nearly all were unseen to the eye,
but were used to program them,
sublimely to have a more compatible persona.  

Me I wants like those others, my reflection was
                  always polished. I would enter
a reflection and be the person who'd stepped
through a moment before.

We were a society mirrored on the refection
that everything was meant to be perfect.

         But what we didn't realise that
every refection is distorted no matter how
                              perfect we think it is.

And the perfection we looked upon,
             was cracked beyond our contemplation.
We were just slaves to the mirror of our own
                                                                ­              egos..



But what ever you do don't look at the refection
staring behind you,
                        you looked....

                                                     ­          I'm sorry.....

You were a star
        That was plain
                To see.
                    But
He never caught
                 Sight
Of you shooting
              Across his skies.

Walking over you whispered and I
knelt on my knees and cried.

You wiped a tear and I said yes.

She wore her body like and image of
lustful intent, it said open all hours.
Except Sunday, a day for her kids innocence,
Every mother has to make a living, regrets.

Mother of a thousand words to
get lost in, but the only one that
mattered to us boys was
                                "I love you all,
We respected her in motion but
were lost in testosterone wordings.
Never did we venture to disrespect
after all she taught us the ethics we
verse to day.
               Life's lessons..
"Cooking,
             "Ironing
Manners,
she sacrificed much,
so we are better in ourselves today.

My mother told me the other day
                             she had ****!!
And that she couldn't walk straight.

"I'm a cow girl,

She giggled as she told me this!!
I'm an adult, but hearing it off
your mother is quite a little bit of
                                                    cringe.

"Ok a lot of cringe worthy glances"

She laughed as she walked off asking
if we had a soft pillow..

        *"I was never using that pillow again..

My thoughts were upon one moment
When above my head a lonely moth
Did fly. I walked in a line a zig zag
But he still did follow above my
Brow little wings did flutter about.

I stopped for a moment to my amazement
Where there was but one now two did
Drift within the air. Hello little ones I did
Ask what does bring you upon this hour
Floating above my head over my hair.

I walked a while pretending that the
Flickers were imagination not really there.
But where two once were now three glided,
Fluttered above I felt the cooling air.
Why follow me wee ones why do you care.

Little ones who fly with me, I ponder in
Thought yet you effortlessly spiral above
My figure. Can I ask why you do this, could
You cease this. Would you possibly reconsider
As interrupting my remarkable endeavour.

But on I walked where so few had once been
More did collect above my feature, I shooed
Them my arms did wave above my head.
People walking past looked and sniggered,
Great now I look crazy as you do flutter.

I carried on my thoughts still bright, even
Though these above my head you think
It would dim get gradually dimmer. But
A light had gone off and would not flicker.

Then I realised what had caused this action
The thought so bright it was a metaphorical
Light upon my feature. So bright the idea
Did they see, so hovering on the gleam.

I sat upon a bench and out came paper and
Pen, my thoughts now concentrated from
Thought to matter. With that the little
Reflection now emptied scribbled on paper.

Where many had floated above all now
Were dispensing as the light had slowly
Grows significantly dimmer. But one did
Stay it saw potential of brighter, bigger.

So if a moth on a dark night decides to
Hover and you just had a thought.
Realize that these little ones can see
The light and the ideas that flicker.

Even though you could feel it
                     fathomless than your soul.

We glimmered into each other's lagoons,
            and for that finite moment we
swam within the moment of the
   past,
          future,


present.

That even though you were
                bleeding out, we knew that
we were one the blade, you, me


                          us.....

I didn't pull it out,
as I knew id lose you.
               Instead, I shredded my shirt,
    collected it around the wound
that was never meant to be.

I was a killer of many dreams,
            but you were the reality that
awoke me to the possibility of u and me.

As u bled out we wrote a story of what was,
   could have been...

911 was our ring tone of love,

And the ambulance was the church bells
             of our blisful joyning.

When the investigation of our meeting was
                                                                ­    over.
We were together,
the scars of both united of us,
                                that we were meant to be.

But love has many sharp edges and we both
           had a blade under our pillows..

Sweet dreams were  balance on serrated edges

Limp effigies of childhood memories,
             still holding so many secrets.
   Woven within tattered tears,
                        now long since evaporated.


Now vacant, an amnesia of fallen promises
           that are retained.
                     But uninhabited threads,
          decompose beneath every dewdrop.
becoming  undone.

Obscurity flaked off
And ill deeds do
Now fall motionless

After I ate,

You...

     I asked for a napkin...


You slapped me!!


      At least I finished my meal.

When colour dies,
      obituaries of the past
fade away of what was bitten
                                 into so easily.

Now everything is
                              black and white
so clearly picked..

I heard then impersonating in to the night
Whispers seeking out lingering fading light
I tried to stem the tide that slowly reverberated
upon my nightly illusions,  I  was ever agitated

Their cries, a wanting for me to slowly converge
on ever open nurturing's to be delicately submerged
in the calling like a siren of their endless waling
but I was without child an illusion of nights waking.

My eyes were still listening my ears hypnotized
their true intentions were muffled and disguised
as I wondered in the room senses seemingly unabated
where truth in mourning was eagerly aggravated

Clambering upon my senses they milked my fears
till I was slowly bled through countless tears
I felt their pain on never knowing life but death
now feed, then they savoured the formula of breath.

"Hush little one death never says a word,
"Feed on the living until their breath is unheard,
"And when they exhale that last momentary gasp,
*"Never let it go hold it tight till you cry hold it eternally in your grasp,

May the future never be a sprint,
           but a smile

as that which you cant walk through
       can be traversed

with but a gracious glimmer
              of hope.

And smile :)

It had fallen and all was awash with ash
Burning what was once valued cash
I held on to it, a motion unknown I'd slash,
No time for pity food would be stashed.

I wore my mask in this bleak dead time
All was chaos but I'm no longer in my prime
Survival was an uphill struggle at times a climb.
If they were near the bells would chime.

Could I depend on others, eyes never seen
Masks hiding truths behind shaded screens,
We were survivors a group no more than eighteen  
The stupid thing I miss the taste of caffeine.

Random I know but Jesus that taste,
But that was a different time now all erased.
Gone with the ash, now humanity unplaced
I wear this mask, a sign of humanity disgraced.

They played upon the tapestry of  night,
Unsettled in the places of  secluded light.
All was deathly not realizing their plight,
As shadows clinging to everything in sight.

Breezes cut upon nerves, as breath fell like snow
Moments felt frozen, surrounded by unknown
Clambering in haste, the calls of a single crow
Its voice echoed as if to tell of those below.

Enveloped was distance no end in view
The chills clawed, what was seen even true
As lights of the road beckoned each step they grew
Each did extinguish and then we knew.

Light was a honey trap like moths to a flame
Drawn like bee to honey, our stupidity to blame.
It called to each one of us asked us our name,
We fell silent, each breath darkness now claimed.

I was like a sock in a washing machine I was able to grab air,
Or what was at least a substance I could breath in. I coughed
With each breathe, but at least I wasn't with those now
Floating by like the river sticks. So many like stepping stones
I could have made my way across to the buildings that weren't
Hollow carcasses emptied on to the city for all to view upon.

I picked my self up on to a car, a tomb should I say, silent faces
Looked back at me eyes wide open water splashing on their
Hair floating like medusas snakes, but the only stone was their
Looks frozen in that moment where everything just stopped but
Moved so fast. I sit as it floats past 5th avenue, I just sat silently.

15.07.2016
"Well ladies and gentlemen they have solved the energy needs
With now what is being hailed as the new energy that will propel
Us to a new age of travel above and beyond the earth,

17.07.216 08:30am
"Please If you listening to this broadcast get out of the coastal cites,
It has been a day since they turned it on and with in moments it
Went to critical mass as they tested it on the ocean.

17.07.2016 10:30am
"Dear god what have they done this is unprecedented in its scale.
We have been told that due to the location of the project their were
Some unknown variables that were ignored. We believe that volcanic
Vents were below the test area and bombarding surrounding area of
Ocean with a low level previously unknown radiation that when
In contact with humans does no harm but the system amplified it
And is now in critical mass stage over to our eye in the sky,

"Hi Jean well were as near as we can get but all looks calm at
The moment, we have been told they finally have it contained
And that we shouldn't worry  "O MY GOD ITS REALLY HAPPENIN.........,

"Jean, jean je.........

That was two hours ago, seems like a month already. But only
Two hours? As I hear it spread across the ocean like a ripple,
Anything within a thousand miles was ash, lucky *******.
The EMP wave ricocheted around the planet taking all electrical
Systems out in every part of the globe. Those lucky enough to
Have protected their systems may have a small chance a small one.

I look around and see the dominos of builds grand in the vertical
Stance now toppled like broken branches resting on each other.
Waiting for that gust to finally take them to the ground in a
culmination of its final rumblings of death taken the saplings around
Down with it.

The car collides with a sign post, it reaches towards the window.
As I climb up it finally sinks to where ever its journey takes those to
their final resting place. I walk up the flights of stars and stop to
Take in the view. A tear drops from my eye, and I wonder what
Will happen. Will I survive this new city of the dead or join them.

Without a hand to wield it,
              creation is just a silent voice
never written down.

For without man, the words aren't understood.
                  So if the pen came first,
how could man write life down,
                         as he was after its creation.

Gold fused was this enchanted rose dagger
Its blade was thorns, infused with magic.

For it was united upon the wheel, upon the straw
Burnt words and whispers chipped at reality.

As the hilt blossomed and the Words spoke,
The book fell but the task was done.

And thus beauty that was created, for when
Used the flower fed, and the thorns drank deep.

Gemination sundered
             the pollen,

cleaved from the stalk..

              Redeemed from its
betrayal of peace..

influencing the toxic earth..