A veracious man was due
though a lunacy bade his sneer
as he'd shoot to ****
that shocked his world too
only tights like a bully made him a ballet
with a sandwich tonight
though she could make him woe there
his thought of a foul corruption pranced
until the strike of midnight harrowed a chicken
with his luxury of their soul kitchen.

Standing on a lily pad
In a very unfamiliar pond
I determined not to get my feet wet-
But the splashes felt so good
I reached out instead of drawing back.

Who wold have known I was parched-
I didn't even know I was thirsty.
                      

An imperial flat
round circle autocrat
where dipper yesterday
only quash their goad  
though doldrums there dock a yacht
for deeper waters afloat
let me take her far away
to the mellifluous island strand
with coral sand and coconut butter
as sea whips up in royal flush
to whisk her eventually from horse latitudes  
while temperate hold sway but
the moon air breeze with lavender
and stella star light again.

There you are, holding the book with one hand,
with your legs crossed,
reading.

I notice you,
I always notice guys that read.

The seat right next to you is empty.
I take it.
My hand touches your leg,
I shiver.

There you are, unaware of all the things that go through my head.
I am emotional; I got some bad news today.

I desperately want to take your hand, squeeze it. I need to.

I take a peek at your book,
“marriage”, I read.
You look back at me and I pretend.

The bell rings, my stop.
I look back at you and there you are, holding the book with one hand
with your legs crossed
reading.

It was a moment of destruction,
that created something beautiful.

When your eyes met mine,
for the first time

Love was created,
and the heart....  destroyed !!

I find myself
I'm dead in an ink page
Hostage in your photos
I'm sorry, sad I find living up to myself a scary ideal

But really, all I am is the clacking of teeth
And those who don't hesitate to remind me
Aren't nice, aren't my friends really,
'*** friends don't talk philosophy

I'm looking for what I see as me
I'm tired - worn raggish
I'm hopeless and bored
And fickle in the words I write

Ink paint is tinted blood
Water colour is see-through meaning
Mish, mash, mosh
Nice to meet what you see as me

Darkness in waves, he finds in this ocean,
All round his world, even at high noon.
While seeking light in that dark continent,
In her eyes, a surprise; he encounters sun!