You feel the sweat drip down,
Your tender neck, and all across your crown.
With a little flick of the whip,
That turns your frown upside down.
Curious, in thought but not in action,
For a sensuous kiss, the only reaction.
Woof woof, little dancing man,
You're only one among many a faction.
Straight up serenades, down familiar alleys,
Too mesmerised to notice this entrancing folly.
Crawl through mud and gold alike,
And feel the force of a thousand strong rally.  
Woof woof, you creature of hope,
Have you tasted the threads on this rope?
A silky, sweet aftertaste on your lips lingers,
Fluctuating your heart on this emotional *****.
Those seductive hands around your neck,
A lipstick brace, constructed from pecks.
Tad too tight, you can see the marks,
Get out of this reverie, and go on and check.
Woof woof, oh you puppet dangling from above,
Entangled in this wicked business called love.
Oh yes, it does most definitely exist ,
Haven't you heard of the two white doves?
Bite not the hand that feeds, they say,
Don't they realise that you're the prey?
A flicker of the lashes, and you're all gone,
All to give, with nothing to say.
Woof woof, you helpless soul,
In too deep, for this is your toll.
Forever a doll, a plaything of desire,
But you don't care, you like this role.

The screeching sound of the metal tin can,
Pulls up around the corner of desperation.
Hair flying, adulation from fans,
You know its nothing but imagination.
Howls from inside echo through the sheet,
Music to the ears, and she gobbles it like nectar.
The door opens, and you're looking at her feet,
"Don't move, lest it should fester."
She speaks in an exotic tongue,
Like the animals in the wild.
She places a strong hand on your lung,
While your breathing goes mild.
The tool, ah yes, the tool,
She wields it like a paintbrush.
"Sit still, you pretty fool.",
She spouts, with an excited gush.
The lion's face peers at you,
From the far side of the room.
While a peculiar broth begins to brew,
And a dark mist begins to loom.
The rhino looks helpless on the wall,
Its horn standing out in the line.
" Oh, be calm you sweet little doll,
This should do just fine."
You can smell the taste of the wax,
And breathe in its visual splendor.
While her pleasure has reached its max,
Through the willing gifts, you lend her.
At last, its done and dusted,
And your face adorns the wall.
Wondering how on earth she could be trusted,
But alas! You cannot resist the caravan's call.

This place, it seems familiar,
Like an unopened corner of my mind.
I don’t remember this passage though,
And the endless fall that ensued.
Through the pores I saw it all,
A briefcase here, a backpack there.
I reached out for them, but in vain,
As gravity continued to take me into its thrall.
Memories? Yes certainly I had seen these before,
Whether they are mine, I am not sure of.
Because they seem too exquisitely crafted,
Too pure, not even the slightest bit flawed.
Dancing inside red bubbles,
Popping ever so slowly as I embraced the pull.
The red enveloped me whole,
As my bones turned to jelly.
My organs, on the other hand,
Began to grind like clockwork.
Slowly, I looked below me, and saw red,
And looked above, and saw even more.
I wondered what this sojourn was,
Whether it was in my mind, or in my heart.
Then flipped it all around to find,
It wasn’t a fall.
It was an ascension

Wake up on the wrong side of the bed,
And pull a muscle slightly.
In the pain, to the ground you’re led,
And jump back up again sprightly.
Like the lumpy pillow at the edge,
I like my despair rare.
Get smacked by the ink trying to caress your hair,
While the bespectacled man mouths disappointment.
And his wife looks down at you and stares,
Brush it all off because hey, it's atonement.
Like the lukewarm cereal milk,
I like my despair rare.
She smiles at you, but her eyes seem to deplore,
And her boredom, oh large is it writ.
Ah her mouth was a chocolate fountain before,
But of late, it seems like it’s on autopilot.
Like her constant glances at the icon,
I like my despair rare.
Breathe in the comforting smell of meat,
Smoked and salted to perfection.
Only for that one song to play on repeat,
And move over to the other section.
Unlike what I ordered, and like the steak I got,
I like my despair rare.
Break off those wonderful relations,
Through no fault of your own.
And get sent on quite a bad trip,
Realizing all that time together was just a loan.
Like the price tag on that fancy bottle,
I like my despair rare.
Go home to watch the grand game,
With a six needed for the fans and players to mingle.
It seemed as though even fate wanted to maim,
As the voices echoed “Single!”
Like that dipping yorker,  
I like my despair rare.
Back in bed with a heavy head,
Perhaps things didn’t go all that bad.
What went wrong? Was everything misread?
Maybe this is the time to be sad.
I like my despair rare, I do.
But maybe it likes me more.

Words of yours, fill the sky
The light breeze carries them to me
Peppered by the pollen
Inciting a reverie
One in which those words of yours
Were not as simple, not as clean
But one in which
The words were the same
After the passing of the moon
Inscribed in the stars
Those words told a tale
Not one as forgiving, not as easy
But one which was
A mirror image of the day
Those words first came to me
Peppered not by pollen
But unflinching certainty
One that I often saw
In a land of dreams
Where the movement of your lips
Was not evanescent
But stuck with me
Until the moon began to gleam
Those words showed
A reality, not as utopian, not as free
But one which was
Yours in entirety.

I watched her smile bounce off,
The reflection on that last teardrop.
Her lips twisted in a reticent scoff,
The grains in the hourglass, begging to stop.
She  looked deeply into my eyes,
Willing every last ounce of truth inside.
While her sensitive heart tried,
Not to take me on a traumatic ride.
I see the glance at the screen,
And her melancholic sigh at the tune.
Trying hard to forget what they mean,
Seeking solace in the rays of the moon.
She remembers the touch of your hand,
When I softly take hers in mine.
How you held each and every strand,
For that she unintentionally pines.
She doesn't want it to be true,
But it always comes back to you.
We took walks by the lake,
Tossing stones into the blue abyss.
The memories I tried to make,
She always seemed to miss.
I looked deeply into her eyes,
While she returned it with an almost apologetic sigh.
The remnants of much stronger ties,
A bond not reflected in mine.
She doesn't want it to be true,
But she's getting closer to realising.
It's something which she knew,
Its effect on me, no less paralysing.
The touch of her hand was tender,
And she smiles softly at me.
Knowing I could not mend her
Heart, something I should've seen.
I look at myself in the mirror,
With her standing by my side.
I wondered what the image was for her,
And was answered when she barely tried.
She can't fight it any longer,
No matter how much she wishes it wasn't true.
No, neither of our hearts were that bit stronger,
As always, it came back to you.
As always, she came back to you.

A prophesied alarm ticks away,
As sobering faces  make their way.
Welcome oh stranger, to the land of the learned,
A trip from a ticket handsomely earned.
Watch your crooked tongue,
Forked and twisted in a manner wrong.
For here there be beasts and creatures,
In the midst of dreams and futures.
Through the air drifts the scent of a fanciful tonic,
Quelling instinct, and suppressing the panic.
Walk past the snappy ladies and lads,
Peering at screens for the latest fads.
Watch their suits emanate regality,
Killing the scene with sheer brutality.
See through the pores of that fine fabric,
And you'll find the remnants of a familiar trick.
Not unlike the wisdom of the wizened,
The words of the victorious, the echoes of the poisoned.
Underneath it all, see the truth,
Strip away the puffed, monstrous brute.
It's a dainty little feeling, fear they call it,
On their faces, clear and large is it writ.
They turn from the brave to the meek,
Everyone caught in this noxious reek.
What they ought to have predicted,
Is that this reverie is self inflicted.
Sullen cheeks, and drippy noses abound,
Waiting to be addressed and found.
This place is a walking minefield,
Of broken bones and souls to be healed.
But its not their fault, I can't complain,
Because all they feel they don't feign.
As in the midst of this perennial parade,
I find solace in the friends I've made.

A canvas burnt red,
Stood tall, in flames.
No time to tread,
The receding rouge waves.
I seemed to be, a tad bit lost,
Understandable, I know.
The kiss but a frost,
A cold,pale shadow.
When fire and ice,
Fuse in glee.
They lovingly entice,
All those who see.
Naturally, I too was caught,
In a sea of joy.
What it brought,
Was no evil ploy.
A feeling so cold,yet warm,
It shivered down my spine.
While it seemed to swarm,
Every one of my nine.
This was just a dream,
A trance mesmerising.
The noiseless scream,
Echoed,tantalising.
Then she entered,
A light in the day.
And so my heart tendered,
With her smile,forcing me to stay.
The grains of sand,
Seemed to stop their descent.
While a single hair strand,
Shined,in the moon,crescent.
The vacuum of nothing,
Had begun to pull.
While clearly,something,
Had formed,rather full.
I took one last glance,
At her smile serene.
And was caught in a trance,
That seemed, not mean.
Alas I had no choice,
But to walk away slowly.
No time to rejoice,
Time only,to be lonely.

Aqua Regia! Conquerer o' Kings,
A quick,flashing stab in the heart.
The dilapidated remains, crumbling,
Like fantasies of a tyrant destroyed.
Three parts will, and one part heart,
A magnificent creature shall be born.
A beast of gold,of silver arrayed,
In stacking blocks of haute couture.
It fears no strength,no power,
In all its nobility it advances.
Swatting aside mice and rulers alike,
It gushes forward with with stunning delight.
Aqua Regia! Champion o'the poor.
Creeps up like a woodland Robin,
With no need nor like for a hood.
The phantasm keeps it's friends close,
And enemies, closer yet.
Waiting for the clocks to align,
It splits into myriad ephemeral images.
One to destroy, one to save,
Another to watch over the kings and the knaves.
Aqua Regia! Thy magnificent beast,
With a bright light, it wanders yonder.
Skirting like a dandelion in the sky,
Across the vast expanse of ignorance.
Choosing not,the path of least resistance,
It grins at it's clever fabrications.
For it's place has been,and will be,
To remain a tyrannical,benevolent enigma.

This room so small,so hazy.
The windows tall,looked brazen.
The floor seemed still,so mazy.
The ground looked down,ashen.
And so I wafted,
A shameless breeze.
Until I slowly posted,
Under the shadow of trees.
A sense of joy,surged,
From within the chasms of doom.
A pleasure that was forged,
In the very craters of the moon.
The highs,the lows,
The very feeling.
The beginning,the middle,the close,
And time, they seemed to be stealing.
Time,oh time.
She waited so dearly,
While all else seemed fine,
But yet, I couldn't see clearly.
The smoke departed slowly,
The vestige thinly veiled.
I looked,realising cruelly,
The feeling had sailed.