in the aftermath
silence echoes
rising above our mushroom cloud

after all's been said and done
there is no more of you
now, than there is of me*




_ _ __ ✒
●○
°

'silver tongue,' you say
frightful compliment which
births performance anxiety
rather than a mere swelling
of a bloated head

today though; this very moment

this tongue's gut-stung
by a full vial of anaesthetic;
come back tomorrow,
perhaps then, we shall
see a much better show*



●○
°

resuscitate
an ailing soul
bereft of starlight's

superb glimmer
and woollen warmth.  
Mayhap, stellate glow

in the stillness
of tranquil flight,
their counsel, console.

Humbly, we plea--
hymn of the night,
come and tarry awhile.*




_ _ __ ✏
○●
°

whenever you feel all alone,
remember this simple truth:
we're really all alone, together*...


●○
°

it's hard to hear yourself thinking
when hate on hate is all around
there's a cry for freedom ringing
its price: to keep another bound

our goals require such liberties
which defy our mental capacities
we hope it's worth all the drama;
our vengeful acts stripped of karma*


●○
°

makes you wanna disappear;
in many ways it's made clear,
others are lower than dirt to you;
silences are cold and not a few*



●○
°

his tears used to wake him
from an unduly prolonged delay

her smiles used to hurt him for
their beauty his heart, dismay:

their love had locked them up
and threw away the only key

and mile upon mile of wishful thinking
pushed them further away, though free

he looked into a well-used mirror to find
the devil he danced with was himself

and the fireflies that once lit their canopy
have also lost their former glee