There once was a garden where everything died
Even the birds had flown off to hide
The mighty oaks had lost all their branches
As for the flowers , long ago had they all of their chances

Even the sky turned black as it flew by
Then all of the clouds had to cry and cry
The floods could not wash away the pain
Those who lived there died or went insane

Laughter had been banned years ago
The crow's kaw kaw , was never a show
The only sound that was to be heard
was the wail of the missing violin's words

Under moonlight , by shadowy night
The strings cried blood and tears for sight
Even the moon overcome lost one dusty tear
to the life missing after all of these years .

One day the cry of the music stopped
The last string had now finally popped
The violin laid down in the ground
and there was never again another sound

And years had now gone on by
No one living then was left alive
There had been a revolt or so
Flowers once again started to grow

Trees sprouted out and began to bud
You could once again feel life's gentle nudge
The grass carpeted the woodland floors
and happiness returned to all once more

Now all had forgotten about the violin
But sometimes if you listen to the midnight's wind
You can hear it while it goes about tuning
for all it's sins had now long been forgiven

Orange skylines with
Copper inconsistencies,
Cobbled pavements
Converging, at odd angles,
Stepped on
By fairytale homes
And tourist feet,
Almost, just almost,
Drowning out the violins
And the voices,
Almost making me forget
That Europe isn’t home,
Somehow.

The A String on her violin snapped
And she gave out a restless sigh
All she wanted was to be in tune
With the the rest of the symphony
But that poor A String insisted
That he couldn't take the stress
To be pulled and stretched daily
Was unbearable for him
If only he could realise the thousands
Of other strings playing in time
The vibrato vibrating into hearts
And resonating into minds
He'd realise without stress
We'd never be able to hear the music
You were like that
You gave up on me because
You couldn't hear the symphony
It's a good thing I've got three more
Strings on this violin

She ran from me
in her voyeuristic
tendencies.
Bespectacled in the night,
she shed away her divinity
this girl with a penchant for tragedy.

A dramatic prelude to her kiss
would be the fixations of the poet
to her eyes and lips and skin.
Those which he can only recall
in music--

the slow andante of violin strings
entangled in the coasts
of her body.

Come morning you wake
to the tune of silence.

You could never tell her
those three words she longed to hear.

Vivid cultures dancing
like jellybeans in a frying pan.
Pop like a violin
flow with the rhythm of the sandstorm.
Spinach leaves sway in the depths of the ocean
like worms
hooked through one of its many stomachs
filled with plastic bottles.
****** honey bombs flavour
the ink that spills across
the landscapes.

I blindly ***** for your warmth in the darkness.
So cold, so alone.
I find you and I smile.
You seemed to be smiling too but I could not be sure.
I ran my hands along your selender neck and along all your smooth curves.
And then we played throughout the night.
But darling, let the neighbours complain because I am in love with you.
My darling, beautiful.
My violin.