Passiflora Petals flank my pillow,
Valerian's the pollen on my brow,
My thought flies where night clouds rise and billow,
and dream-ships sail with angels at the bow.

Marigold has deepened into nightshade,
twilight falls where nothing moves or sings,
twisted shadows flicker on the light shade,
Sleep Angel comes, on poppy-tinted wings.

Running water changes into voices,
stairs yield to the footfalls of the dead,
helpless sleep is running out of choices,
Sleep Angel wraps her wings around the bed.

Curtains stare with eyes that once were flowers
till their colours deepened into grey;
restless visions haunt the starlit hours,
Sleep Angel will chase them all away.

the coffee was cold.
a day old.
i heated it.
poured it.
fought through it.

put on a b-film.
something about crap
films made our lives
feel more fulfilling.

we laughed.
exposed every flaw.
we held hands.
snuck
loving glances.

i have to wake up in three
hours, but all i can think
is life is luck,
even for the dumbest of us,
when you tell your
eyes to open up.

You said you'd come to tea
so I made a cake
chocolate sweet; maraschino filled;
girdled with a satin blue ribbon;
set out the prettiest plates;
hand painted with forget-me-nots.
And from the darkest corner of a drawer
found a single candle to celebrate the day.
I'd understand if you had 'phoned,
but now the chocolate lends a bitter taste
and even the despairing posies have given up all hope
as the candle's flame flickers my ever waiting shadow.

It’s all right, zombie husband.
I didn’t like the dog.
Or the twins.
Seriously, all they did was cry.
It’s like, “shut up, already”,
You know?

you had birds in your mouth and sunlight dripping from your eyelashes.
i promised i wouldn't speak if you wouldn't change faces twice an hour.
we made conversation under a tree and sleep-walked through your kitchen.
i couldn't stare for your poetry disguised as fingers, always moved your hands.

i opened your window and slid to the street, took a walk with the recycling.
my hands looked tired the next morning, and you wouldn't take no.
when the lights fell asleep, we ran for the boats and slipped into the water.
the moon smiled and pulled us apart, i never matched your shoes again.

I stood in the sun
and thought of you
and of my junebug heart.
It clings on, unshakable,
even after it’s death.

And you like that about me,
my junebug heart that is.
You think you have one too.
I know that you don’t.
Yours is fleeting.

ponder with me as I throw these diaries
filled with tales of ******* and burnt down cities
towards the direction of every ear
that had but a moment to listen to my plea
of how other lands hold the children of my sanity
of how in other lands I see decadent beauty
how I feel the gnawing tearing in me awfully

supernatural were the nights I imbedded in sultry
cringed smiles and listened to the forgein birdies
inhaled the fumes of gasoline and drowned in the glorifying sunny
wet my lips in salty water and enjoyed the stinging in my eyes
graced the cannabis valleys
and the meadows of sustenance and endless possibility

the waterfalls of magnificent hidden deep in the earth
behind the roses of my ancestors

speak to me my land
call on to me louder
hinder me away from this place
and manifest within in me your womanly power

seek me oh mother land
and cast me away from shattered lives
bring me back to you
and beg me todestroy this demise

I am toughly and sickly
at the same time

shower me with your graciousness
and devoutly banish my crime
I will wait for the thunder calling
and make excuses for this ****** place in the meantime

hollow hallow
colours
empty cords
of lungs
burn with
tastes:
stumbling across rough shoulders

redly speaking
greenly thinking
bluely touching
yellowly destroying

talk
talk
talk
talk
talk
it all away

paint me with your (dying) colors