I'm not adverse
To your discourse,
Your lines
On aches and longings.
Am I remiss
To dismiss
Your lonely poems
On dying?
You're killing me.

A pair of eyes to see
Of ears to hear
Of hands to work
Of legs to stand
Makes life smart

A face to cheer up
A heart to pair up
A mind to pep up
A love to step up
Make living an art

birds gliding in the sky beneath the clouds
chirping and singing sweet pleasant melody.
the weather is whispering and almost quite...... it flows through my body and fills me up like minty fresh gum.
trees they make it feel like winter, with the pine cone shaped like ornaments on a Christmas tree.
sun, the sun is bright! and warm, it burns a hole through my face.
as for me I can be one with nature and escape from society and the finer things in life.
really embrace myself and careless what people have to say.
just basically go against the grain!
gliding and swimming with the wind.
let nature take me beneath it's wing and embrace it, BE FREE!!!

We sat under the tree in our garden, reading books.
You gazed at the sky and pointed out shapes in the clouds,
We sang the good old songs out loud near the fireplace,
You watered the plants today and asked me to rest for a while,
We cooked dinner together after playing your favourite game,
You spent the night reading Shakespeare to me and said you loved me,
We laughed on my silly jokes and I fell asleep in your arms,
This morning I realized that it was only a dream after all.

Miss Pinkie
opens her door
and smiles.

I see you brought
some wine,
good boy;
go through
to the lounge.

She takes
the bottle of plonk from me
and I go through
and sit
on the white sofa.

She's playing
the Delius LP
I bought her.

The lounge smells
of perfume
and a touch of *****.

She comes in
with two glasses of wine
and puts them
on the coffee table.

How are you?

Not bad, not good.

Somewhere in between?

Guess so.

She sits down next to me;
her left hand touches my knee;
she's starting early.

I like places in between.

I guess you do.

You know I do.
She smiles;
her dimples explode.

I see you've put on Delius.

Yes, he's good.

Like me.

Hardly, my boy, hardly.
Her hand
moves up my thigh.

I pick up my glass
and sip.

Her hand reaches
my in between
and I almost choke
on the wine.

Are you multi-tasking?

No,
just sipping my wine.

She's nineteen years
my senior;
she's like a poor man's
Marie Antoinette
in looks.

She picks up her glass
and gulps the wine down.

That's how one drinks wine;
do you think the Romans
sipped wine?

I gulp down my wine;
feel light-headed;
put down the glass.

On here
or in my bed?

Don't mind.

Indecision
shows indifference.

I smell her perfume;
it engulfs me.

Her hand resumes
its search of paradise;
her red-nailed fingers
reach home;
my pecker stirs
like a woken snake.

Here is best.

Thought so,
she says.

She removes
her lower garments,
I look away;
too much
of a good thing
kind of philosophy.

Delius plays on,
but I prefer Mahler
alongside
****** activity,
he has more passion,
more sensuality.

She lays back.

I lower
my lower garments.

Her phone rings,
rattles on
the nearby shelf.

She gets up
and waddles
to the phone
and answers.

Hello, how are you?

No, I’m ok.

Can't make it tonight
I’m a bit *******.

Tomorrow?
Yes, should be fine.

Bye-bye.

I sit there,
watching
her plump backside;
Delius has ended
and so have I.

A sense
of disappointment
and a big
warm sigh.

Is present once again
in his blackened room,
hears songs in the trees.
The window glows: the sun
reaches all, and doesn’t care
about your comb-over.

Darkness leaves the world,
life refills the street:
cars commuting, bodies shifting
across concrete, passing
familiar others. Emil enters.

He watches the girl
over there: greasy black hair,
paled skin. She is pretty
in her damaged way.
Emil shoves away
Those thoughts, bites
into his McMuffin:
these are getting better.

Slow through the park,
Emil lingers. Joggers in their routes,
a Frisbee keeping itself in the air
until sputtering in the trim grass–
Emil overlooks everything.

He sees the marks glow
underneath his secretary’s
sleeves. He staggers over,
smiling, “I heard what you said,
that your girlfriend broke-in
and bit you in the arm.
If you need to, you can
stay at my place
for a while.” She smiles
a smile Emil’s been aware of
since middle school,
when girls wouldn’t even look
at him and his acne-scars twice.

He opens his door, and walks
within the black, only outlines
of things show. He flips the light
switch. Only he can alter this world.