It's always the bat-****, rabid dog
crazy ones that will put up a really
good front when you first meet them.
You're always amazed at how normal they appear.
They are intelligent, hold down jobs, drive Volvo's;
maybe they even have children that they
seem to take care of.  They pay bills,
celebrate holidays and have houseplants.
They might even have a
dog or a cat, or a sickly looking bird in a cage.
But, just underneath the false facade of
lucid smiles, lurks a whack-job from hell.
They make Sybil and Lizzie Borden look
like Mother Theresa.

If you find yourself with one of these
women, don't confront them, it only
makes matters worse, and could prove deadly.
Just smile and nod, and slowly back out
the door.  Don't stop until you see the
Pacific Ocean.  Get in and wash yourself off.
Your safer with the sharks and the riptide.

Mamba
impossibly human
the bite, the strike, the temperament
When threatened, the mamba comes out
Strike, strike, strike, strike
The mamba is relentless
His venom coursing through the veins
Of his foolish challengers
His coal black eyes, hungry
Defeating, intimidating, vicious
The mamba bite is always fatal
For he has no antivenin to defeat him
No mortal power can wither him
To the dust
Strike, strike, strike, strike
The common name of the snake
Is given to no common man
Only the name of the fastest, most protective, most aggressive,
Tallest, biggest, lethal-est snake
Belongs to the man with the biggest, lethal-est presence
Strike, strike, strike, strike
Formidable anywhere he is placed
Strike, strike, strike, strike
The crown of the kingdom sits
Comfortably atop his temples
Strike, strike, strike, strike
How fitting
The world’s deadliest player
Be called after
The world’s deadliest snake

I don’t smoke
Too many people I know have died due to it
Too many heartbreaks, too many mistakes.

But if I did
I’d light you on fire and breathe you in
Inhaling your smoky scent, like woodburning
Until my lungs were coated with your ashes.

No chance of lung cancer
But maybe a chance of obsession
A dangerous obsession
An unhealthy obsession.

And I’d watch the tips of you slowly burn
Until my fingers were in danger of blistering
And you could feel the heat from my face.

You are a dangerous habit.

Idle minds are dangerous to themselves.

Idle hands are dangerous to everyone else.

your eyes are like the sun

if I gaze too long
I get hurt eventually

your eyes are like the moon

they reflect my fire
the lustre isn’t yours

Breathless,
Hands lay flush against my head,
their Fingers pale,
gripping tight on the small unripened fruit,
slowly Climbing up and down my skin
poking and caressing my lungs as it speaks
giving me burns of varying degrees,
you twist and they turn the colour of red, purple and blue
the only thing holding the blistering skin together
are stitches that haven't yet given,
my blood is forming slowly
it dribbles down like spittle
and as it clots you split
digging your fingers inside my flesh
and I am infatuated
head lolling
eyes shivering
bones sore
as if they are pleading for a way
for a way
a chance
to slip away in peace
with you by my lonely and lowly side.