The sad eyes
the hopeful hands
wrapped in the ends of long sleeves
scales for fingernails
silver purple hues
axiom eye brows
proscenium arches
the eye lashes are curtains
stained black
the scent of whole milk in tea
a kind mistake
the sarcastic cries from singing speakers
like dogs at beaches
the **** of leaches
realistic vampires
in pools of waiting water
leaches on my eyes
salt on your fingertips
lost on mine
paper cuts from my own skin
Chinese Jim Carrey on my mind
not my idea
I just heard it and agreed
the sand mouth
scratching the roof
paper *****
origami
and Japanese ***
animated octopi
and ocean park aquarium blues
I’ve been equated with
spherical spaces on my palms
the pope preaches a phobia
and he is loyal to all of his children
except some
and accept cards when they are given to you
with nephews and nieces who can’t speak
yet still sign their names
the cold shoulder
I hope you think of me
in the shower
and when you drink beer
the naked alcoholic
is like a godmother to me
he brings me
experience
the fathers speech impediment is inconvenient
like parties we weren’t invited to
the brother is loyal
the mother is not
like candy floss
sweet to the tongue
then gone
like rose-coloured contact lenses
the modern age will die
like grandparents
the enthusiasm
falls like stars
and you make wishes
on coffee circles
she is going to India
(I am not)
I am going to rot in hell
such a stench they will kick me out
the boots
thick and black
shining in the sun
like tarmac
the big nose
snorting *******
with the small
fairies are real
and they ****** us all
The suicide hopeful
that breaks promises
like bread
back to church again
‘Let’s save the gays and make them straight! The prostitutes too’
As if they didn’t have enough problems already
The teenage ignorance
and underage rage
under-rated and staged
The attention seeking wave
if you want them to see
better you were a tsunami home wrecker
at the age of sixteen
than a ripple in the ocean before you were me
the attractive son-of-a-poet
***** trick
the hairy crotch with diamond juice
the one you love love love
the Starbucks umbrella you stole
the girl who loves horses
the drummer who can’t swim well
the secret lesbian
who I’m 95% sure fancies me
and the barber who cuts hair outside the school by the concrete
in the woods

Your sad eyes
make everything else
seem pointless

The quiet after the storm
sleeps in your chest
like gliding bird wings
after facing the wind

Your treasure chest
flows like
hidden oceans
folding your breath into
bed sheets

Warm,
my tongue will travel
like ribbons through
the cages of your heart
tying knots and bows
the same colour
as your
as your secret bruises,
the ones they don’t see

The quiet after the splendid storm
sleeps in your chest
you keep it there,
it is yours

I want to kiss you like night time,
so you can feel the dark universe on your mouth
and know that
there is so much hidden light
bursting to escape
like my hands
and their desire
to wrap around yours

Don't ever confuse yourself
for a person
who makes art

You are Art personified
and preoccupied

Don't delude yourself
You're not like them.

The beauty of sleeping,
is forgetting,
that you were ever alive

Making kisses like
faint dog barks outside
my house at night,
I can feel their might
in my gums,
Maybe I’ll stick a pouch
in between my cheek and lip
and instead of tobacco
it’ll be filled with words
and it’ll be filled with you,
Brown leather grasshoppers
jump in your irises
and chirp when you nibble my ear,
A purple lipstick necklace
fell onto your collar bones
from my tongue,
Little white petals jump
from your fingertips
into my mouth (very quietly)
when you place your thumb
on my lower lip,
And you brush pollen
off my skin with your
dark dark hair
which gets caught
between my lips,
Between my lips
are your lips
and your tongue
young tongue
time bomb in my mouth
deep dark and heavy
black and melting
itself onto my stomach
Egyptian inscription
encrypting on old skin,
I say old because
no cap covered my
invisible freckles,
sun scars,
if you stare hard enough at nothing,
nothing becomes stars,
if you have everything,
blow it away like dandelion seeds;
soft caresses,
back onto someone else's pale cheek
draw a map of a forest
on your back while I
hold a pen in my mouth
and ******* more ink,
You be paper for me
and let me think while we lie
and still we lie
and we lie very still.

The winter city breathed,
and I was nervous in the evening
while you waited for me,

I drank your voice slowly,
I tried to sip you silently,
so that I could hear all you had to say with all of my senses,

You sound like bread and butter and strawberry jam,
and look like calm water in the early morning
like I don’t know about the oceans you protect,
and I feel like a fisherman
fishing for some sort of heart shape in the vastness of your sea,
and I want to sit on the shore all the time,
or at the pier,
somewhere where the sadness and silence are equally soft,
where the silence might be kissed away from you
and the sadness melt like candle wax,
warm and willing

I am not becoming
not becoming anything other than myself,
My post pubescent body is sprayed with dark public hair in the crotch area
like quiet shadows,
And my underarms have little eyelashes,
And the flesh on my thighs has hair-line fractures
from every boy who’s touched the top of my legs,
and my knickers, frilly pink barricades,
soaked,
My wet revolution
pouring like tears

Let me touch your ****
I love your ****, it’s so soft
*places hand on ****

When you blink
it’s like a long slow
never-ending wave
like a breath of
acceptance
finally
letting go

I sat very sadly
outside
the
coffee shop
where I work,
where
the girl came
every day
I planned to talk to her
last week,
after 2 years
I planned to speak

I read in the paper
about a girl getting hit
by
a large truck
her name was
Emily,
the same name
I wrote everyday on
that cup

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SQ-94nbMK-s

Open my fist from it’s tightness
kiss the incisions that have been made
by my finger nails that should be black

my first fist reaches to the ground
my second to where my heart should be
an empty space that is waiting in the
shadows of my chest
it is waiting behind dark green vines
poison ivy
it is waiting behind dusty opaque windows

warm greenhouse

waiting for my fist,
my hand,
my heart,
growing
a deep red tomato
inside my palm
waiting for a
sheltered house
made of glass

I see an old man with a cool lip curl,
A city light smile
catching smoke in his mustache while
he stares at school girls
crossing busy roads,
Innocent temptresses in short dresses
a parade of salmon coloured skin
screaming up stream
to prove that they can swim

“I am a plane about to tip” He sighs then clasps her mouth between his lips.
“When I go down, I’ll take everyone else with me too,
and all of your friends and family will remember me as the thing that destroyed you”

I will open to you,
like paper in fire,
unfolding before I am destroyed,
and once I have become ash,
you will be wind,
attempting to reconstruct me as I fly further away from myself

Soon, you will realize, I am a clown on an all day, every day shift,
I will tell you things and,
you will grow tired of me
and make sighs that sound like waves breaking,
worn out by their heavy body,
and in my head to you I will say "I told you so."
and you will speak with subtle smiles that release your boredom,
I will close, after you do
and we will forget,
that we were ever open.

The floor,
amber leaves whispering at my feet
and the trees old and young
like me

white bark with black scars

I try to look for you
but you hide like wind
and I listen to the rustle of our home,

you disappear
from me as always

like laughter
from someone getting older

your kisses swim in the air that I can smell
and the scents of forest floor

my dress is made of petals
that are all browning with age
like my eyes

I wore the cold like your breath on my mouth
and your quiet sighs to my forehead
like wilting flowerbed thoughts

and I threw you into the wind
like burning letters

She was ****
and the moonlight bathed her
with soft hands
I was naked
and even the stars
closed their eyes from me

My secret,
my ocean,
quiet boy
who listens but never speaks,
my sea,
shy one,
who knows but never tells,
my wave,
calm softness,
who shouts but wont even whisper
My blue,
who shines but never shows
and still flows at night,
when not even the fish are awake.

What makes you so sure your sickness need not be heavily medicated?
You walk around, your body hanging like your favourite outfit that you never wear anymore,
stumped in a box
The street lights breathe like the cigarette that you smoke at the end of the night and regret immediately after,
the cigarette that tastes like glue,
The pads of your feet blink to the floor,
Your soft eyes watch the people and their smiles, they once represented jealousy but now sail past you like leaves of boredom from nowhere,
You chew on an energy bar as the purple plants, bike riders, suit case carriers and fire hydrants stroll by,
You make fists to fit eye sockets, but your hands stay by their sides
waiting for the courage to find the change that promises never to come,
You sit on the bench and wait for somebody who might chemically excite you
Your mouth clamps shut and your food rots inside of you molding your breath,
The dog walkers follow their excuses not to be lonely
and you crave a machine to make you feel better,
no human will do,
And the cats purr against tree legs and look at you as though you are stupid,
You sit around your friends wanting more intoxication
anything but this elasticated dribble of saliva they call ‘the gang’
Because another ‘gang’ is just another situation where you can feel alone and misunderstood again,
another metaphor for your life and incapability to feel comfortable,
You bathe in quiet awkwardness that only you feel
and cry when no one looks or when no one decides to see,
And you wallow in the self pity that sleeps in beer cans and wine glasses
searching at the bottom of them for someone who can relate to your loneliness,
And everyone thinks they’ve got the answers but you do too and you think the answers are no good either,
You call out on roof tops in the loudest voice your thoughts can muster
And the teachers who get paid to care have given up too,
So you sit like an old book being read over and over again melting to resemble an instruction manuel or something equally repetitious,
And you wait for the time to pass,
and the people too,
You wait to be interested by something,
anything that will comfort you,
But you seek solace in the smell of dustbins, petrol, sea salt, beer froth and your hands in the shower,
And hope that they’ll all
come together
and somehow
let you know
it’s going to be okay.

Fill my palms with New Zealand
And I will rub it in the cracks of my wrists like lavender,
Violets, purples, milk and vineyard greens,
Pools of yellow-gold sunlight fall on bronzed skin,
The land’s soft mouth gently presses into my thighs
leaving an earthy kiss,
Lakes lie still like the moments between seconds
with an eternal youth,
Hills bend for us as we breath between them,
The petals on flowers relax,
they’ll leave when they’re ready,
The smell of suncream lingers

Repeat after me;
The future does not exist,
all we have is the Now
and our memories
and the cemeteries that swallow our bodies.

XY
**
What’s the difference?
They’re both just ***.

A bleeding smile
dry lips while you kiss me
you kiss me
you kiss me
discover and unwrap
lover, lover

my heart is an oven
inside are your burning hands
you blister so quietly
then show me your palms

your eyes are oak trees
they can't run away
no matter how hard they try
old leaves escape them
they fall to the ground
while your hands are still burning
you never make a sound

a leaking whisper,
soft eyes in the crowd
I see you,
I see you,

Your throat is an ocean,
my thoughts swallow into you,
yours into mine
and you can hear
the walls of my labyrinth creak
my body speak
in illiterate rhythm

Small hands reach to each other and snap back
like broken street lights,

Slender legs stride uncontrollably
like clouds straying from them selves to become two,

Expressions press on faces
like foreign stamps,

Hungry mouths speak eagerly
the way saliva embarrassingly falls to the floor,

And bodies throw themselves at each other
like hammers to glass

Kiss my frowning ****
face
and place your tongue in my
mouth
spin it around enough times
to replicate how many times
I thought of you today (continuously)
If I get to kiss you again
I’ll make sure you taste me like
raspberries (sour and sweet)
If I get to see you again
I’ll make sure you see me like
full moon (dark and light)
If I get to speak to you again
I’ll make sure you hear me like
mercury (silver and maddening)

and I’ll trade my whole ocean
for the slow waves of your quiet skin
against mine.

Ghost girl
and most girl
host girl
float girl
in my ghost
world
above the gravel girl
unravel girl
travel girl
into my silk
world
see right through
but who?
me and you
too much girl
don’t touch girl
blush girl
asian flush girl
asian must girl
must go
must trust us girl
we are the
teachers of lust girl
oops I mean love
that stuff girl
that love stuff
we’ll stuff it
in the tufts of
your pockets
and it’ll leak out
mocking you girl
like us girl
that love stuff laughs
at you girl
just fluff girl
that love stuff
has got to be
fluff stuff
bluff girl
that love stuff
fluff girl
love stuff
fluff
enough girl
enough

I sit with my beer and cigarette,
watching the chinese men play football
and wonder,
how something
that seems so pointless
can be
so fun.

The cliff
undresses for the sea
with jagged rocks crumbling,
like tears,
and the sea takes it all
Beautiful,
she weeps
back to the cliff
for she has no
place else
to go
And their sadness
is so sweet
that it doesn't dream
If you listen
you can hear them
whisper
but their voices
are too soft
for anyone
to bother

I woke with his taste,
my fingers missed his skin,
and my mouth missed his face,
and in the pit of my torso I felt the weight,
the absence,
my hollow fate

Here, I am,
to tell
the sky
that I am alone
the way a bird is alone.

The daisies
I slit their throats
and made a
necklace out of
them and I
stuck them through
each other
I made a
ring for you
‘He loves me
he loves me not
he loves me
he loves me not’
last petal
plucked like
strangers on
the street falling
dead from
looking in each
others eyes
they die
she dies
cut a
hole between my lips
for you to spit inside
let it reside in there
my leaky cold cauldron
I’ll bathe in my
mouth
and touch myself
where you’d never
expect
like the nape of your
neck and anywhere
soft
could I find the soft
place on you
or have you
hidden it so well
that you’ve swallowed
it up
well spit it back
and into the
cracks my jaw makes
and I’ll shake with
pleasure while
you ignore me
I’ll adore you
like bone bone
shake
take me
with you
when you
go
I await you
like twilight
waiting for sun
everyone wants
your rays
spray them out
like spit
raining on only me
my black rain
cloud sounds like
still borns crying
from their mothers
mouths. KISS
ME. KISS ME
like mouths have
no other job
like lips came in
4’s split apart
then stuck back
together with
secret spit
from my mouth to yours
sit in my ear
and listen to
the daisies swinging
inside my head
heavy heads like
lead. all dead.

Already turned on,
she says
and wipes her hair so it cradles around her ear
look here,
she twists the radio button,
do you see it?
look,
can you feel it?
look at the
the purple that dances in the eyes
of every turned on tuned in radio listener
look
she grabs my hand in hers,
she is so excited,
close your eyes and just look at their faces
they look so
happy
wait no,
happy isn’t the word
they look so alive
yes,
to be alive is better
she says
holding my hand even tighter
to be alive allows
something more
to be alive
is like
a hole
that you can throw anything down
you can throw your
gum
your ear ring
your broken finger nail
or you can even throw me

and their eyes look like
they look like they are sitting
in that hole
you know,
their hole of
life
and they’re catching the music
with their eyes
sort of, something like,
secret star light
you know?
something like that

I tell you
you are the sea
You tell me
I am a spring
in New York
I am man-made
woman maid
construction site
cut like ham
served to slaves
You are chimney
smoke
burning oak
soaking in ash
I flash you
a smile like
a yearning
match
You smile like
leaves in the
cold
shaking with
hope
Holding on
to your tree
You
stop me
from singing
my bird song
all along,
I’ve been:
a burn
on your thigh
or your hip
a slip of the
tongue
or maybe
the lips
You could be
window
but your
curtains are
always closed
or drawn
like a child’s
crayon art
I could be
bike
broken on the
road
or like
the bones
protecting
the heart
Please believe me
as I pray
to the dogs
that I may turn
into the spaces
in between
your lungs

There is a baby who is crying
like a lion caught in barbed wire
and he turns to me
and now he looks like
a cub who has just been snatched

The tour guide father shows the westerners Kaitak
to distract them from the fact
that his baby is roaring
he tells them to wear their seat belts
or there will be a 5000 dollar fine
I wonder if its just that he doesn’t want to
be held accountable for
if the driver flips
and we flip too

We’d be upside-down
sailing through the air
on a roller coaster loop
with no track there

and the baby would cry
The radio would play it’s canto-pop songs
The lady next to me with the beautiful smile would scream
The man with the purple glasses would be wearing purple glasses no more
My laptop would fly

Considering my luck
I’d probably take my last breath then quickly die
and how nice it would be to fly
just before I slept