A peacock wanders in your thoughts
In such a curious form
It jumps and leaps or limps and struts
And goes not whence it's come
It seems at first as if it's whole
But then a closer look
Reveals that it's just half a fowl
Or half an ugly rook
On half a pair of legs it trips
Then half a fall it takes
Half a drop of blood then drips
And half a squawk it makes
Half a flight and half a heart
And half the thought of it
Serves to tear my mind apart
The thought of half it's meat
Or half the sleep it takes when half
The night had passed and then
I feel as if on it's behalf
I'd dream like half of men
The tides of nature push us forth
Toward affections shores
Past the storms that ****** mirth
And fill with fear our pores
And life's boat seems to seek to sink
And fall with ease beneath
The waves -it titters on the brink-
That cut like fearsome teeth
Half a pair of hands that rows
Must seek another half
A helping hand that feels and grows
Comforting with a laugh
Perhaps to safety both can sail
Perhaps to greener lands
The half might not when one half fails
Perhaps it understands.
I wished to make this half it's length
Or make this line it's half
The peacock turned whole when it learnt
To find it's better half
Half of me and half of you
Could make good poems and more
Our halves become more real and true
More worthy to adore.


I love you.

Life is sunshine,
Bright and yellow,
Peaceful, keeping
My mood mellow

that is..

Until you came
Fueled by anger
And tear my closet
Hanger from hanger.

Clothing scatters
On the carpet.

I'd write that down,
But I can't start yet

To make a move
Toward the pencil

Or the paper-
I am trapped still

In my quaking
Mortal frame

And you keep yelling
All the same.

I know you're angry,
But you've no need
To yell and fuss
And scream at me.

You've no need
To stay this way,
But that doesn't mean I
Still want to play.

Sure, you yell loud
And put up a fight,
But life is sunshine,
Yellow and bright.

The soul is no colour
The soul is no race
The soul is no gender
The soul simply is ...

Scarlet cinnabar
wanton reds and ***** you pinks
Vermilion is a libertine
a go it alone chancer
who lives free and to hell with the consequence
condemn him if you will
for he is already ******
The devil has his own team colours

The sea.
So many colours.
   Green.
       Grey.
           Blue.
All in between.

So many emotions.
   Rage.
       Calm.
            Peace.
All can be seen.

Reflections in
      mirror-black water.

Raging winds
      over restless waves.

Freedom!

Ever changing is the sea.

It's like a halo burned in an open field,
asking where's the revelation
when it lies on your desk

It's kind of yellow contradiction thing,
saying "I'm trying"
but you're not quite there yet

And it's "I don't know" purged off of your lips,
thinking maybe one day
it'll all get better instead.