You were the drought
  and I was the rain that
was going to drown you out.

But you swam like you depended
                on the earth to hold you.

Never letting you hold ground
              cos I took it from under you.

No discipline to hold you like gravity,
        the only thing you'll be doing is sinking..
  

Bottom of the bay, where all wasted things
                sink too, you may take a while.

But believe me you'll end up where the rest
               sank.

Shrink wrapped with
        stones of regret on ya
             ankles of missteps.

When you dried out I was the oasis
                   of plentiful rhyme.

you tried to steal from my fountain
   but i held you under till you drowned.

And as long as no one knows where you
  were ship wrecked, you'll be a drought
in a sea of plentiful moisture
                                    that i drink upon.

I brush your love,
and I am in a tizzy;
feet bare and loose
on the grass and soil,
reaching the far stretches
of land like the sea;
skies dappled with
large clouds, as blue and clear
as a baby's set of eyes;
love so deep and cavernous,
and wedged deep into the earth,
a depth of which I could not fathom;
strong and mischievous like the wind
in a storm of your emotions,
wrecking civilizations like they were
made out of paper.

You left me in awe
when you told me that
your love was boundless
like the universe.

So imagine my surprise
about the depth of your love
when I had once underestimated it
so much. When I brushed you off
like lint on my coats and shirts. Not
deeming you worthy of my time, as I watched you move and love another.

I have never stated that the love I had witnessed was ever mine.

it was a silent splash
into the river
and all its bewitching curves

as it sank into his pores
his mouth his ears
his eyes his body

as one second of purity
washed countless years
of killings and being killed

cleansing him from the inside-out

then he sees him
on the other side

again.

for a moment they freeze
in their shock

the quiet ripples are no longer
silent as they scramble out to shore
as they ignore their bare bodies
as they reach for their veteran
killing machines

and for another moment

he watches him crawl up to shore
while he aims it at his head
his finger at the trigger

but in this moment

in their nakedness

stripped of identity

they are one and the same

they are no different

there is no violence no hurt no war no sadness no killing no hate no guns no knives no punches no kicks no grenades no trenches no shrapnel no-

and with a muted splash
he feels the river
of blood running down
his head

as the moment of realisation
slips away

Every time I reflect on myself
The more I realise I’m somebody else
The real me is somewhere deep down
Drowning inside, screaming for help
However I ignore this & create my day
I live life in many interesting ways
Some say I’m quirky and very strange
Very unique but ****** in the brain
Some say they know the rise & fall of my story
The drugs, the lonely hearts
The regrets & the glory
Everybody knows my name and my fox like personality
The attention itself slowly suffocates me
But when you see me sitting quietly
Looking lost, feeling everything
That’s me saying so long and farewell
Goodbye to my true self
The one I ignored and left to drown

The thing that hurts the most, to realise, is that no matter how much I love you, and how much I tell you that, it won't change the fact that you want to end yourself. I am powerless, and that's pretty awful, because not a lot of people want you to be okay more than I do, and I can't do anything about it. I'm sorry for that

Have you ever experienced the revelation
That: you will never, really, Know anything?

At that moment I diminished into the sunset,
With it's deepening colours,
Into a soothing blackness,
A darkness from which anything could come,
Chaos/Stars.
Every instance became a gift,
So that I could indulge in this anarchic relief,
Relenting,
Euphoric,
To my Lack of Control.



My Psyche enjoys this Bellyrub,
Intimate comfort,
Love of Everything & Nothing,
By my own design,
Bathing, surrounded by the candles of my Contradictions,
Burning from both ends.
A country-boy born in the city;
The introverted extrovert;
A dependant independent.



A pattern emerges from this chaos,
In the shape of me,
Tied down but free,
Wondering: What's the next thing I'll 'see'.