Think. Wish. Execute it.
That was the idea, demonstrate.
Yet, it did not work.

It is so devilish,
So profound to be consoled.
I accept I was vile.

I wish time was fluid.
So I could retroact this flaw.
How serendipitous.

You still hide behind
Trees and rocks, like reluctant
Sirens, to save their love.

You are inevitable
I should follow consequence
Attempt, we promised.

We will fall in love
And be simple, complex and
Practical. No clichés.
No stupidity and it
Will be fun and still
Be love.
Maybe.

I will find you gorgeous, beautiful, stunning, and other adjectives.
I will, at least, be decent.
Together we will ****, make love
And give in to intimacy
In the passing of a second
Or for as long as we can.
Maybe.

Our passion will be bizarre
As we surround ourselves
With incense and fire.
The smoke will gambol, balance, saunter, dance and copulate
Across your moist exposed skin;
Cocoon you.
And for a fleeting moment
The universe and I will agree
That you are perfect.
Maybe

You are all I desire,
In a
Person
Woman
Body
My Muse and Siren
(I will write you poems whilst I crash on the rocks)
Maybe.

Maybe,
I will stare across time
And maybe see you there.
Sometimes across space I see you.
Maybe.

Or maybe,
Just stare
And see you
In the stars
Or the sea
Or the rain.
Maybe,
In my mind
One day,
Maybe,
You might love me
Too.

You said it in French.
Made it unique,
Special.
But lost in translation.
The intent was there, but
So was the fear.
“Je t'adore”
I love you.
Such a shame.

I understand though.
A form of expression
With your mysterious style.
I did it when I love you.
Now you do it for him.
At least he knows.
I was just a coward.
Maybe one day
This glass will shatter
And the shards will make it
Painfully clear.

Then, you will know
How I feel about you
And maybe I will know
Where I stand with you

Grounds of caffeine and capsaicin
Surround my feet.
Tiny specks spilt
From a nonchalant cupboard.
Effective, yet useless
Down by me feet.

Gather the specks
And boil the concoction!
Mix the beverage
And pour it into a cup!
Drink, *******, drink!

How morose. How macabre.
The dog has moved to another tree.
The ***** merely ignores it. Rejects it.
Give a visage of violence.
It’s alright now, you’re safe.

She calls again.
You answer.
The tree is not the tree.
But a special tree.
A sip, a sip, take another sip.

Gulp it and see.
See the busy bumblebee,
And the ascending anathema
And the cacophanous ****.
It is all beautiful. Ambiguous. Curious.

How odd, the drink I consume.
And there you stand. Oblivious to me.
I call and you turn, briefly.
Are you a ghost? Angel? Demon?
I don’t know.
But you begin to blur.
It cannot be stopped.
I will miss you.

Grounds of caffeine and capsaicin:
What a beverage. What a drink.
No bricks. No lemons.
Just my serendipitous spill.
If only I had
Grounds of capsaicin and caffeine.

It warped and spun,
An object and another.
It grew yet stood,
As if it might have
Been crying.

She stood as well:
Unfazed. Untouched.
Whilst I fought back
The insurmountable urge
To say that I was dying.

I fell and flew;
An object like any other.
Swirled in my orbit,
Against the current;
I might as well have not been trying.

Pushed off a star
And fluttered back.
Reaching the safety
Of a place like home
Where I once was lying.

Alas, (once again) there she stood.
As if I never left.
Unfazed. Untouched.
Whilst I fought back the urge
To show my face smiling.

Look at the situation thus
We have appeared from out of a shell at dusk
Enjoy the twilight
As we seek the night and
We are not prone to turning to dust

Seek all those grandiose remarks
We manufacture them as the dog barks
Take them, cherish them
You will never guess from whence they stem
A distraction is called. O, the larks.

We spun our way around your blood.
Twisting and turning, creating an aqueduct.
Apparent to be in control.
Illusory, such as a verspertine stroll.
Although we created a cliché: your mind was dragged through the mud.

Bless you! Out, Satan out!
The demon has been removed from your snout.
Her allure lies in your head.
Let her enter, and we will not appear so dead.
Thus, stable and strained for now. Though, we will refrain for more than a bout.

Yes, child, we are still here and you are still a child.
For a moment, we successfully made you wild.
Still, this game digresses.
Rules are still the same, even as she undresses.
This dawn will pass, and our number redialled.

Maybe I saw it wrong.
Maybe it was a mistake.
But our time dies when you said hello, you said.
Basis is complex, it is,
But valid all the same.
For when we fought against narrative,
Which... it never went further.
A simple convention that
Has made me worry so.
You truly understand,
No, you never will.
This is how we are:
Soulless saints.
Awkward for others
Whilst we are oblivious to their chains,
And now it has ended,
Of course, with a hello.
For once we responded as
Expected, all that time ago,
We ended our connection
By smothering it in light.
I tend to think too much,
So rather ignore my statements
And idealise me as you wish,
For it will never be
The same; not that it
Ever truly was.
I hope I had an effect
And maybe every time
You come across a
Misunderstanding
You will remember me.

How penniless, pathetic, passive.
A time that burned with
The recognition of the heart,
For so long, merely a cavity lay
Where the beats should lie.

Then, by the call of the
Siren,
It became apparent
That a vestibular
Rhythm entered
My core.

Could it be,
My most painful irony
Could be:
That I only grew a
Heart
For it
To be
Stolen
And
Broken?
Maybe.

The time has come alone
(this time)
To observe the
Ambiguity of my existence
Tear from some eyes
Tear from the cavity.
It’s empty again,
The heart cavity.
Yet,
If one were to look
Next to, Above, Then Squint a little.
There will be your name,
Carved and branded into the flesh
Stating that you were
(and always will be)
There.

I will laugh and
Smile
As we spend time together.
Spend your time with me.
Between two dots in the Universe.
Where we will weep and cry
At the final dot.
Melancholic and morose.
Before, we will be
Sanguine
Jovial
Exuberant
Happy.
Happy for the time between
Two points.

Infinity will beam and
Take the hands of Oblivion
And swing his lover
Around as she squeals and
Laughs
They will make love in
The sunshine; The moonlight;
During witching hour
And watch the sunrise
Merely to do it all again.

Perhaps we will fall in love.
Infatuated. Intoxicated.
(one more to complete the set.)
Perhaps you will be my muse
(I will go through forests and octopi.)
Perhaps I will be the one to make you cry.

When you become my siren;
When you crash me on the rocks;
We will reach the final dot
And fall in to the abyss.

Oblivion and Infinity
Will not catch us
In our descent.
And the time between two dots
Will be the only time that exists
And I’ll be
Ecstatic
To spend it
With you.

To act upon coincidence is benign.
Friday the Thirteenth has come and alone.
Who knew that it would be a din?
Not I, as I was thoroughly blind.

Ambushed on the day by a con
And a priest. One asked for money
And the other spoke as I was his son,
Amongst rejection. It was not fun.

Followed by rudeness and tension,
My house was ablaze.
Siblings and parents considered with great revulsion.
Here it shows again, minute titillation.

Sunday, a shame, a fight with a friend.
Imbroglio and irate, words of our time.
A slip of the dead tongue brought our joke to an end.
Confused, angered, sad, love, it is all that it could send.

Here lies the superstition, a mere dry bone.
I would have laughed, but it brought no amusement.
Conclusion: depressed. Sent me into a craze
And all that was left was this mental, social, indifferent slime

This worm crawls through ****,
Believing it to be mud.
How sad, how quaint.
It toils forth and thus it faint.
Left alone to die, to sleep, to bud.
If only, to could **** from that fortunate ***.

After a tempest, the worm awoke.
The smell had exacerbated,
And now, the worm knew it crawled in filth.
It tallied on, fourth, through the zilf.
It hoped, wished, that it might be alleviated.
Only, it would not: a cosmic joke.

Bacteria and flies swoon around.
Cautious, curious to the worm’s presence.
It looks not like them.
Yet, the odd and unique is where they stem.
But, still, he lacks their essence.
They enjoy the ****, he seeks the ground.

The worm saw the bacteria and the flies.
He did not like them, but he accepted.
He had joined their culture.
So, he greeted a fly, through he wished to punch her.
She smiled, as is etiquette. Yet, it percepted
That this is only the first of the worm’s lies.

There crawls our worm again.
Who began to search for **** across the land.
Confused and an idiot, he misses the soil.
No time, none left except for his toil.
He says he seeks the ground, yet he can’t see past his hand.
To ourselves, we deceive, we’re determined, but it is all in vain.

I see things through
Astigmatic eyes.
These peas percolate
But exhaust our supplies.
If you blink I will see,
The energy of light dies.

So, as I consider the atrocities
Of my mind.
Release the emotions
That bind.
Maybe through your character
You will be kind.

There is no thought to
My reasoning,
And our link is something that
Needs questioning,
It will allow possibilities that are
Always repositioning.

I do not know my feeling
Or emotion.
You do not show any knowledge
Of internal commotion.
We will not bow down to the social
Concentration.

Remember your idealism of humanity,
If I become uncouth.
It is because I am unstable at times
Of tongue and tooth.
You are the only one that disallows
My smooth.

A lofty rabbit stands afore me
Mocks and jeers, if occasionally.
It came from behind a curtain.
Why now, I am not certain.
To the masses, I flee.

It jumped and socialised with humans there.
Aware I was; always naked and bare.
Confused I heard and spoke.
It shrunk only slightly, yet it leered.

Speak with a distraction, my ***** play the same.
True, my contradiction, sometimes it I blame.
Useful, as always, I speak to a girl.
Eyes of Tsavorite, tongue of Mercury; what a thrill.

The girl she responds, yet why does the rabbit smile?
Could the rodent have sent me to her? How vile.
This act creates displeasure.
My mind, here, loved her at my leisure.
A sip, a sip, from a forbidden phial.

This was a day beyond my conscious.
Betrayed and now, slightly anxious.
You see, I knew to love you, would
Not be intelligent. Refrain, I should.
Yet, here I write merely to be bloodless.

One’s mind will buzz
And your stomach a-boil.
In the time we took to drink
One took the same to reach the sink
And even though your mind did toil
It will always merely come back to a fuzz.

And once set upon disaster,
The body reacting as if it is scared,
You will see it lynch your mind,
Turn you around and cause you to bind.
Act now, teeth are still bared.
One will survive it ever after.

Down the bottle in a devious clear glass.
Time equivocates all that is true.
It was a time to remember that I forgot.
It lasts an era in space spanning a spot.
The curved figure likes waterloo
And there will be nothing apart from the glass.

The time I’m spending brooding
Will be nothing but a bagatelle.
For it amounted to nothing
And I sat hoping for something.
But I am never going to be versatile;
For example: The smudging is from my drooling.

If time is fleeting
Then life is fleeting.
So
Love should only last
Mere seconds.

If so
Then I dedicate
Each and every second
To you

I do not love you
Like the sycophants do.
Oh, though, I mimic their quality.
But I prefer to sound like me.
For otherwise, it would be an insult, a fool.

I do not love you
Like the champions do.
Their base and angular exterior
Mirrors there base and angular veneer.
I feel you should be loved in depth too.

I do not love you
Like the facades do.
Their actions help to create affection.
Yet, you know it is a mere distraction.
You could rather take love that can be seen through.

You experience many loves.
All that you know.
All that you don’t.
So it is time
I explained
What love I have for you:

I do not love you
As all the characters I told you do
As there is something they have
Something I cannot save:
They love you.
Adieu.

You descended from the ground
and took your
position
in front of me.

I looked at you out the corner of my eye.
I was staring a little.
My left shoulder was interested.
And my right shoulder
didn't care.

Time had moved.
Space had moved.
And the left shoulder screamed your name
How odd.
How interesting.
How cool.
But my left shoulder was
disappointed.
And my right shoulder
didn't care.

And so reality
advanced.
And my left shoulder
Breathed your name
(amongst others)
And then shrieked
As our existence
Touched again.
Somersaults and
Acrobats
How glad my left shoulder
became.
But soon we advanced again.
I thought
time may touch us soon.
My right shoulder
didn't care.

Serendipitous
and a bit convenient.
Our paths cross like
amorous lovers.
My left shoulder
burst into flames.
And then wet itself.
I planned to see you again.
My right shoulder didn't
care.

We spoke
We wrote
We become aware of our greater
existence.
My left shoulder
had relaxed
but was still interested.
You were odd.
You were interesting.
You were cool.
Now my right shoulder
Looked up
and stared.

Then we began to chat
To speak wanton thoughts.
And released
the beasts.
We didn't notice
The carnage.
And my left shoulder hid away.
And I tried to ignore.
And my right shoulder stood forth.

Salai
Sweet and seductive
Salai.
You knew before me.
You had no choice.

But whether through my left
or my right.
Or just me.
I will always find you
Secretive and sensual,
Strange Salai.

Only some things make sense.
Like full stops. No, they hardly make sense these days too.
The sun? No, not when you get down to it.
One tries not exaggerate,
but when the laws of physics
start to state
that the
only order is chaos
and that our Universe
for most of time
doesn't exist.
Or exists in different contexts
with different people
and different outcomes.
so either we exist in multiplicity
or not all.
One tends to exaggerate.
Why?

Saying nothing makes sense.
Sounds appropriate.
Sure.
We can function.
We know how to *******.
But that’s the thing,
We make sense through lacking

This is it
Entropy
The natural turn to chaos.
Makes sense,
When you try to hold the handle
It breaks,
And you’re stuck
Entropy.

When you
Saw
Heared
Smelled
Touched
Tasted
Her for the first time
Entropy.

You – I? – were too far gone
Entropy.
You’ve fallen into chaos
Interesting...
As opposed to falling in love?
Makes sense.
Many would say it’s not at all like that.

Some of us are a little damaged.
Bruised. Scratched. Broken.
We  don’t squeak.
We don’t light up.
We don’t walk.
A little damaged.
Some you can only hear the damage
When you shake them.
Broken bits are flung around.
Others, you hear nothing at all.

Full stops.
They use to make sense.
Now they look like commas.
Or exclamation points. Bang.

but yes if i flung my punctuation out
the window it would
not make sense as we
wouldntfunctionintheslightest
without the whitespace.

Let’s bring back the Universe
The sun
The nothing
The everything
The full stops
The periods

I’ll end my cryptic harangue
And step back from my rant.
It was grand to know you
And I’m ecstatic to consider
This:

Maybe in one of all those other
Universes,
It made sense
Rather that
Than not
Existing
At all.

Make love to boring and ugly girls.
It’s easy, simple.
Kiss the ones you do not wish
Flirt with *****, sycophants and the silent girls.
Whatever. Even some boys.
They do not matter. That’s not the point
But there she is:
Siren
Muse
Nymph
Your tongue shall dissolve
Your lips shall fall
And your ***** shall shrink
She is not something bland
Nor mediocre
She is:
Sensational
Murderous
Nevermind: words have failed.

Maybe I'm wrong.
Perhaps it is an error.
But he died I said, God save thee, you say.
The Rule of Complex
But, however, effective (.
Because if we play to this fable
There ... Shall not continue.
Simple harmony
If I am tortured.
Understand
No, never.
Not as if we:
The Senate and without a soul.
One thing to trouble
This is the we have forgotten, even though the bonds of
Exact,
Of course, all hail.
At this time, in the reaction, be the
Next time
The end of Relationship
Death in the air.
It would seem is always a lot of
So that you excuse the
The perfect I want to
Because I have not
Thus, it is
There is no truth in the world.
I hope to play belongs
Maybe time
It is right you will be able
ERROR
You may recall me.

The deep throes of your
Smile
Lie within my eyes.
I pause to pause-
To watch you as you
Saunter.
Merely out of recognition,
You came to me.
We walk, we part,
Never changed,
Merely altered.
I long for the time
Of infatuation.
It is passed.
Now, I desire
You.
Think I will caress
Your Heart? Mind?
Soul?
I hope so.
Within my eyes
Lies your smile.
My eyes.
Your smile.
If only they could
Walk
And never
Part.

She drank the cyanide and
Immediately regurgitated
It on me.
I stoically
Glared at and began
To remove my
Clothes.
She quickly apologised but
Then
Forgot
About
It
Walked away and disappeared.
I soon found her
Again.
Lonely drinking
Alcohol
At a party.
I joined, but not for long.
She quickly
Left
Again
To some more interesting human-social
Caricature.
She ignored me.
She rebuked me.
She insulted me.
Yet, I was steadfast.
“Look like the innocent flower”
For I could not
Experience pain
From one I did not care for.
That was obvious.
I perpetuated my lie,
The first transgression upon my face.

What a lie.
What a devilish lie.
It has been too long now,
Too verbose.
Too eloquent.
Too persuasive.
No matter what it may do,
Now,
This lie,
This devilish lie
Will never
Die.

You will break men’s hearts.
A subtle siren
And a melancholic muse.
Beyond all exaggeration
One of those tiny little smells
And men are changed.

You open up their minds
And find what they truly are.
Depress them: show their
Desires
*******
Poets.

You are the key.
The master key.
You will open up many men.
They will love you first.
Show affection.
Compliment.
And you will stand stock still.
Cold. But you do care.

You haven’t broken my heart,
Not yet.
So I stay.
Because it will be a lot more fun
Than if
I go away.

Sleep flirts like an amorous woman,
Defined by her ****** concern
My subconscious flutters by,
Momentarily catching my eye.
And transported to an unknown cushion.

There I see sights I disagree.
Some familiar, others unexpected to a large degree.
One I do not know.
It came from somewhere deep and low.
Now arisen, I watch and see.

A concept my intelligence abhors.
Yet, my emotion concurs.
Contradiction that I should fight.
My emotion fights back, with vigilant might.
There I lie. The body stirs.

“King, King,” shout the mind.
“I am Queen,” shout emotion, “and shall not bind.”
The Queen outmoves the King.
A great, for me, sting.
In my eyes, this Queen is not kind.

You have flummoxed my essence
And have brought a strange presence.
This is madness,
Surrounded by sadness.
Truth is thus: I mourned your absence.

How treacherous.
How boring.
It was a time between three and four.
A time between eleven and one.
The pre-emptive witching hour.
The incidental grey area.

My mind was a-buzz.
My thoughts were flashing.
I knew not what they were,
But I was morose and melancholic.

I could not work.
I could not sleep.
I could not think.
Chaos had become my order.
And infinity had become my moment.

Then, there ahead of me,  
Stood two women,
Straight and strong.
One was a Siren
The other, a Muse.

I thought hallucinations.
Perceived ideas through a ******* mind.
But alas, they were real.
I touched them and reacted.

Warned against their poison.
Their mercuric tongues.
Their stolen hearts.
Their arachidonic souls.
And their odd Tsavorite eyes.

They walked.
I followed.
Into a labyrinthine hive,
They sauntered.
Nonchalant angels,
Indifferent to my stalk.

In the centre, there lay
An abyss.
They sat on the edge
And beckoned me
Forth.
I accepted, curious, yet cautious.
And through the Song of the Siren,
And the Myth of the Muse,
The blackness beckoned.

I fell, I flew to my mind’s end.
Accepted my descent, unknowingly.
The air was still. The tunnel black.
And I landed softly.
Alone. Safe. Hungry.
So, I walked to the edge.
The Siren waited. Offered her tail
And walked.

Crawled into smoke, was a Rat.
The Siren pointed, then followed
The smoke.
Rat awoke, to run to my foot,
Up my leg and towards my shoulder.

Rat pointed too,
So I walked to the edge
To appear in water.
Glistening and moist
Stood the Muse,
With a smile on her lips.

Again her tail led me,
As Rat jumped to the Muse.
We glided in the water,
Blinded in the dark,
Until we reached a cave, having dodged the rocks.

Inside, I was left,
Save for Rat.
The Muse flew off, a smile on her lips.
Drowning, by my waist, was a rodent. Erinaceous and small.
I lifted it up and placed Hedgehog on the opposite shoulder.

Hedgehog thanked me,
And showed me the way.
A niche in the rock.
We entered, all the same.

On the other side was a bed.
There lied the Siren and the Muse.
Seductive and Bare.
I was pulled forth.
Their tails were strong.
Their tongues were mercury.
Their hearts were stolen.
Their souls were arachidonic.
Their eyes were Tsavorite.
I was poisoned all along.

In vapid lust,
Morose passion,
Melancholic ecstasy,
It ended.
They have left me
Only with Rat and Hedgehog.

Here I will die.
Led to be abused.
All that shall be known
Of my boring and treacherous
Witching hour
Is this story.
I dedicate it to
The Muse,
The Siren,
Who are but one girl.
And to Rat, Hedgehog and me
Who is but one *******.

As she adjusted her bra strap,
I noticed my lust.
Blindingly sevidical, but as brief as a wrap,
To control, to control, let it fall to the dust.

I wished for many a time
Merely to speak, to flow, allow my thoughts to congeal.
Alas, it was faulty; only amounting to my sacral slime.
I should realise, fortify the need for reckless zeal.

Claim envy. Jealousy. Angst.
A coward. A loser. A failure.
For sure, for sure. It appears it canst.
Only to seek, touch, comprehend your allure.

Sirens and succubi hold no claim.
Vixens and Amazons wither in your light.
Incorporate: Intelligence. Ineffectual. Insane.
For you lasted longer than any mere sight.

They will ask me, one day
How I allowed the fissure to exist.
Fall. Fall. At the bottom you lay.
I will respond, “It was my cowardice I kissed”

Maybe because we are the youngs,
We believe we are entitled to tongues.
That we shall be heard,
To you it is absurd.
Like the beetle, you roll the dung.

You think us silly children,
Yet inside lies the cauldron
That shouts the time of the youth.
Forsaken by the booth,
We begin our costly sojourn.

Our eyes reveal our mind ambitious.
Your eyes see through silicasacious
Perception of a generation passed.
Culture imposed in the manner of caste.
I condemn you to be philosophically abstemious

It is directly simple, comrade
We have jumped from the time balustrade
You a little early,
Us, a little burly
Yet, it was all meant for a crusade

This is an adage for thinkers
To ensure we and you never wear the blinkers.
This is my warning,
To stay awake until morning
Remember that we eventually rest with clinkers.

Left alone in a ponderous chasm
I hung on the brink, after my onanism.
It appeared comforting, the darkness below.
Yet, the light above was where I wished to go.
I slipped softly, as I became a victim.

There the sounds of a siren formed.
Slowly. Melancholic. The unabridged storm.
She called and called. And I walked towards the rock.
Yet, it did not pain. She smiled. Our eyes were lock.
We walked away. Created a cliché, from lack of conform.

The darkness greyed. And fear conceive.
Two depths split, merely to deceive.
Confusion reigned within me.
Little daggers, though, reigned externally.
Strong in thought. Did not know what to believe.

Flash of green! Flap of wings!
Inebriated confession and lesser things.
Mind to mind. Soul to soul.
Such as sirens in the night, I was told.
Flee! Flee! Ensure you disappear to the fringe.

You intoxicated me, siren.
My mind, soul, heart. You put the fire on.
Infect and distract, you notice the muse.
But sanity, broke, shock. The two depths would never fuse.
There I lied. On the floor. Waiting for my sovereign.

The intricacies
Of my mind percolated
When you said my name.

I turned and embraced
But your eyes did not return.
A tad sensitive.

I spoke as I wished.
You produced dopamine,
For another.

Revolution reigns.
Only my mind's susurrations
Sees the love you suggest.

I hope not foolish
Ideas of contemplation
Prevent your heart idea.

I have not thought about you in a few days
It is not because I forgot
It is not because I remember
It is as you say
Awkward
Buried beneath my brain of banality

Maybe I just never
Realised
My thoughts were about
You