The hour for fervour seems faded,
Yet flickers appear like fireflies in our tenebrous sky,
The farce of our fickle society has invaded,
But minds knowing nature will know hope is nigh.

Injustice ever growing like a tangled ivy,
Weaving our complex prison of mind,
We awake to no passion, no boldness to see,
And we pass eachother on our streets, we who are willingly blind.

I didn't ask for this, did you?
Where is the thief of mirth and freedom and bliss?
Who decided to descend the haze and fog no eye can see through?
It wasn't me, it wasn't you, it was us and apathy's kiss.

There are still flashes of redemption in the dark,
And sometimes you will meet those who are themselves the flame,
And sometimes slightly will the fog ascend, just as did the Lark,
And we must no let those who brandish their power make the mind of the Lark tame.

Here I am, awake, alive and in strength,
A strength that has encased itself around and still embracing,
A new cord, granted to live and suffocate,
Mine from the very moment her poisonous cord was cut,
Its envelopment has a weight that many broken hearts can't bear,
And if you can see that new cord, I can tell you, I'm not there.

Oh the costly consequences of her child's protection,
What terrors this thin film has endured and then veiled,
Such a charlatan's tongue has her actress when she's speaking,
Be kind to her if you believe you can, a cataclysm, a tragedy, from her new cord is leaking.

The thunder is shameless in its powerful percussion,
And brave is the morning with its barefaced horizon,
So surely then, one new cord can be severed and forever broken?
One hushed voice finally heard, what gilded words could then be spoken?

I remember the way the world looked when I thought everyone was pure,
The hot air balloon of naivety was my only way up,
It felt safe then, when I remained unaware of other minds,
Then suddenly the red night battered down the doors, oh detestable colour!

Now my mind is tortured daily with nostalgia at each stair,
I love in vain and cry for all the shadows that cannot leave,
Their existence is essential and I didn't know that before,
But it's true when I say I lived in light, in the midst of that old nightmare.

I awoke to a morning of such brief beauties,
How strange these new realities are,
I'm somewhat scared but would like to claim the euphoria,
On a daily basis I'm now leaving my own mind ajar.

It's a risk and I have been delving deeper by the day,
I never knew my own consciousness could be so foreign,
I've been introspecting since my youth but found new territory today,
There is a prospect that is positive or perhaps it is peril, when you cross the mind's old imperious margin.

My mind strays to you and my body soon takes over,
It trembles and ties those tight strings of sensuality,
A fleeting thought of you sets ablaze my heart like leaves in October,
To know the touch of your dear hand is to know sunlight's reach in a dark reality.

The memory of your gaze is like a gilded horizon,
Tastes of sweeter days rest on my tarrying tongue,
I can be cold but you are warmth and you are not forgotten,
Ours is beautiful, very melodic, just waiting to be sung.

I am the dying child of the fatal father internal,
I am the nourished child of the master and mother in me,
Once I was the starving child who was robbed of memories eternal,
But now I have found new life within the nectar of duality.

I am a dweller upon the wistful waves, uncertain,
I am estranged from the feeling of family,
My mind is but the dancing dust upon a wafting curtain,
This is mine, my naked bounty and nature's stark reality.

Sun's glory set alight the autumn leaves I saw this morning,
It kindled consolation for my 9 am start,
Tyranny of traffic and bustling city found me yawning,
But they were no match for autumn's fire that did calm this anxious heart.

A beauty bitter sweet is oft more potent than just sugar,
Sweetness alone won't the seeds of awe sow,
Autumn knows her time is short and demands you look at her,
She was so bold this morning, she had given us a rainbow.

Oh, if I could I sleep forever on a daydream's cloudy cushion,
I'm cowering again from the thrilling thunder of life's perpetual percussion,
Oh, if I could rest of an evening by the warmth of your dear smile,
No need to feel the terror of time, time would go out for a while.

Fire at the core of the earth, fire at the core of me,
Delve to the depths of the earth and me, find what will frighten and what makes me free,
That fire burns ferociously behind this thin film,
I am not the only one who knows,
A wildfire only slightly tamed by a lie,
And a fervour that by the day grows.


Slight me as you must, consequences of flame,
I am all power and weakness and treat them both as the same,
Tragedy and triumph work hand in hand,
You are my friend and my foe!
Sparing me sorrow is sparing me joy,
A perpetual duality, I am beginning to know.

Dearest divine distance, I pray, be more familiar,
Be kinder, be closer, I can't yet make out your figure,
Omniscient darling distance, could you beckon me to you?
Desperately I've called out in the dark, be nearer that I may be new.

You sang for us all so sweetly, though many had blocked their ears,
Your song was enough to ease my mind of mundanity and steal away my eyes from tears,
You unburdened my heart of the day's ordinary harm and your melody made moribund my fears,
But passers by missed the music, how could they not hear the song I'll remember for years?

You selflessly sang your colours into the grey and toiling afternoon,
All day I heard the steady and beige tick-tock until you sang out your rainbow and joyous bloom,
So filled to the brim was my stomach with gratitude when my weary mind awoke to your vital tune,
You asked wonder to tear up my contract with banality, I hope I hear you again sometime soon.

He became infant prescience,
He had to go so far ahead of me,
A strange and whispering comfort that brings,
One who was one with me in our growing,
Knew (or still knows) the bird that never sings.

Many times I had wondered, when in my loneliness,
If it could be that he still exists somewhere,
Only a question without perpendicular relief,
But perhaps it is possible that he still laughs,
Because he still resides in my question and belief.

I feel my closing drawing closer,
I feel it will be soon that I could meet him in my dreams,
So separate for so long, and our reunion means ceasing,
Our hearts once played their percussion together, and when mine stops we can meet in new grieving.

Secret and senile condition,
It obeys that old self-righteous act of contrition,
Tentative and taciturn me,
Longing only for my fleeting thoughts to be free.

Obscure and opulent friend,
You remind me of life and a journey's end,
Wonderful and whimsical you,
You're the best I have known, the best shade of blue.

Unknown and unarmed us,
How could it be that we are walking thus?
Crippled and unstable we,
Blessed be the path that did heed our pace's plea.

It is but one dilation of a sacred pupil, One blink of an eternal eye,
One moment made almost final,
Close to the eye's event horizon,
One rolling sphere of goodbye.

Well, did you know that your eyes are mighty beacons?
Great flickering flames of an artist's soul?
Did you know that when I saw you first I felt you, wildly?
Felt a gentle steward of poems among us, a river voice renews.

One utterance from you has me above my tiny tempests,
I've been pleading, even prayed (though out of practice) for more words,
But your words, only your voice! Which has me falling into tension,
And godsent, glorious tension ensues from your stark frequencies.

Rejoice, I do now rejoice and it feels like for the first time,
Surely not? And you can't know but I just cried for our distant meeting,
It is as though a veil is lifted, a dam destroyed, a collapsed ceiling?
But now a fear, such a quiet terror that I may not hear you again.

Desperation within these darker places,
I have an ironed out yearning to bid farewell to those faces,
Who chase me down their corridors of boredom,
I'm towel dried by routine and so stripped of wisdom.

That slithering hand around that cold, lifeless face,
****** and clockwise at one insipid pace,
Tells me I'm late and I've just missed mirth's deadline,
So here I am, consigned to this, life's callous, common flatline.

But I will rage and I will curse at the dust and dawn,
I'll think tightly of a polished image and forget that despotic yawn,
I'll beg truth to show me beauty, ardor and distress,
And I will open my enervated eyes to this old miraculous mess.

Within nature's grand duality,
That living love does now reside,
Our vast landscape of frozen uncertainty,
Is no safe place for that love to hide.


So dimly now do its embers glow,
I must confess, I'm scared,
So beautiful though it is to know,
That troubled stream who keeps the source unshared.


Dearest of souls and darkest of depths,
A mind I'm afraid to know better,
But their absence deems my brain cells bereft,
If I were simple, I'd write them a letter.

Call for the aid of divinity,
Call upon the strength of my mother's chains,
Call to the resonance felt within my soul,
When my brother would whistle a tune of transcendence just outside my window.

Employ the courage of my calluses,
They were formed in the darkest of nights,
Ask for an ally in my altered form,
She's had to do this before, many times, never been a stranger to Indigo.

Like a monster behind a smile or a devil in a daydream,
Like a job that seems worthwhile but is just a boulder in your stream,
Like the sweet gesture of a friend whose agenda comes out to play,
Or the secret broken hearts of men, whose songs stay hidden from the day.

I find you in the quiet word someone uttered against my name,
I find you in the brazen herd, who are so generous with blame,
I find you when the clock dictates my precious moments here,
And you are there in the silent hate, dilating in the eyes of fear.

I met you as a child when I was denied comfort's cloak,
I met you in the loneliness of which a tired old man spoke,
I met you in the hunger and the whip of colder winters,
You meet me again when I face the hurt and try to remove the splinters.

You knew me when I stabbed a heart with the venom of my words,
You knew me when I clipped the wings of all those kindness birds,
You knew me in the times I frowned when loving words were spoken,
How well you know me now in this reflection that is broken.

But your shadow waits behind you, ever whispering wisest of words,
Your shadow, who knows more than you, can even lure out the bluebirds,
Your shadow carries power and pain and is as unkind as youth,
Your shadow is morality's vein, your shadow is the truth.

A red thread of shame is tightly woven into our silenced souls,
An inherited madness dripped its way down to whoever works the controls,
This nebulous state, this numb state, it's our common default setting,
Here we all are, blind to the brain trick, content in our worldwide forgetting.

Nothing like a perpetually distracted brain to box away the brilliance,
Put that box back in the cupboard, don't you dare invite **** dissonance,
And remember when the party guests arrive, silence is insulting,
Privacy is suspicious, mystery is annoying and thoughts kept to yourself are revolting.

Show us romance, show us pretty, let us always see the screen,
Give us an abundance of fake new reality, let us turn on the simulation rain,
We would like to see her and we would like to see him while pretending we're the ones having fun,
Dopamine is leading the way for us all, our ruling neurotransmitter, our kindly king hormone.

Everything today is tainted with a cold hue,
As though all the world were glazed with an icy blue.

A tear frozen at the midpoint of my cheek,
Stagnating the sorrow and deeming the day bleak.

Eyes want to rain like to sky is right now,
But hydration eludes me and my clouds take a bow.

Grey lingers languidly above this arid head,
The colour of the frozen paints me paralysed in its bed.

Rain, please rain so that I can make this green again,
I don't belong in this starved sketch, lead me to a new terrain.

Sporadically, I miss you,
Always, I need you,
My great comfort of the past, destroyed,
A snow soul turned to coal, no longer a soul, just a void.

Awake and therefore hating,
Everything but creating,
Made in the image and likeness,
Of this great chaos and detritus.

Your religion did debase my very nature,
It made moribund my might and lukewarm my temperature,
The thief in the night robbed me of hope by adumbrating that eschatological night,
And fate struck a deal with tyrannical tedium to dilute my delight.

Feeling those micro abandonments like the setting sun upon my amygdala's shore,
No longer residing in my mind's old tenemants, I can see only strangers at my left-side door,
Wreathed in layer upon layer of distrust, I cannot open myself up anymore,
I couldn't bear to see your bold stars dimmed by the enveloping mist of what came before.

What kind of existence will find me tomorrow, if any existence at all?
I've been begging for another's burdens to borrow, mine can no longer make me fall,
I'm learning that in my old mirror and shame, I can sometimes see the face of Saul,
Blind in my wandering and bashful in blame, I am forever lost in the stories I cannot recall.

I think it's about time that I learned to put a bit of goodbye into every joy,
every sorrow, every moment I am lucky enough to live through.
It's just in case, when the time comes, I don't have time for the big farewell,
And if I do turn out to be lucky enough to have time to say adios and grazie mille to all my ineffable life,
then all the bits of goodbye can come together and collide with my adios and grazie mille,
and how sacred and beautiful that would be!
But if not, I can live in peace, knowing I'm ready,
and knowing that my life has already heard a bit of goodbye in each of my moments,
uttered in gratitude and so much love,
from me.

I feel a pull to you,
A gravitational pull,
My mind is full of you,
It is excessively full.

I need a break from this,
A remote kind of break,
Not yours but nature's kiss,
I do know what's at stake.

I had a dream of it,
A bad kind of dream,
Anger you tried to elicit,
You're not what you seem.

My hope coloured my iris,
Temporarily blind,
I can't wade through this detritus,
I have to leave it behind.

Love is real you know?
So many taint its truth,
It is as bold as sun and snow,
And its nature is uncouth.

All encompassing? true.
I could not fathom that,
Oh, but now I do,
It is gold made for the sewer rat.

Good god, great grief!
Reflecting, absorbing, colourful grief,
I can see nothing but through your absolutes,
Look there to that leaf, so soon to be gone,
It is all our death, and beautiful, powerful, terrifying grief.

I'm glad that I am here in the depths of this hurt,
I am reminded of my life, my very own life,
This weight that is heartache that I currently bear, I'm grateful to it and the changes it is making,
My face looks ever so different in this mirror, in this sorrow new strength, in these tears an elixir.

You frivolous heart, what bounds you break,
You torturous mind to inflict such an ache,
Have you not learned nor felt the sting of such thought?
That weaves its new pattern, for a new mind to wake.

The wondrous onslaught of untried design to take hold,
As a fresh pair of eyes perceive a new pathway, bold,
Wait, yet you know this world brave and new,
Spoken of, no, lived in a story once told.

Are we creatures of pattern and rigid confines?
Or do we linger, intently, at the edge of hope's hard lines?
Oh ineffable conquest, unfathomable veil,
My courage waning in the shadow of bleaker times.

Though elusive, a way I am able to see,
Its evading nature forcing a strain upon my mind and me,
Am I free to escape this passionless pit?
Relinquish fear and abandon what was once identity?

My innermost has been missing me,
I must get back to it,
Lately, I've been a half moon, see,
a half moon and that's it.

There's a clumsiness beneath my cerebral cortex,
A hazy and haphazard thought,
My cranuim is marrying the confused with the complex,
And so my thinking amounts to nought.

Where am I in my deafening debris?
I'm not entirely lost,
Just feeling far away from lucidity and me,
But my innermost will cover the cost.

Summer is suffusing the air with ease,
While winter begins in my eyes,
I am overcome with this lingering and lonely breeze,
There's so much pain in the sunset at day's demise.

This demise is like that of my dearest dreams,
When I awake to a frozen mourning,
I am languid and lame while my cautious soul screams,
And I make it inaudible, I suffocate its warning.

Shame on my mind and my synthetic skin,
I am rain, I am weeping and sombre,
While wearing sun's silk and casting calm as my kin,
My budding flowers are quickly wilting beneath my old armour.

Last night's sombre sky was hiding the moon in the corner of an ever-longing eye,
Mysteries were fooled by honesty's mask,
This also happened by day, it was not just night's task.

Oh sovereign sky, you are more generous tonight,
Ostentatious and proud, you adorn my mind's walls,
Pouring me a cup of darkness delight, pain bows its head and sorrow stalls.

My eyes are too full, they are open and flooding,
Thank you, oh night and your sky's freckled face,
Your reminder of life has heads bowed and legs running, but I am here and in my place.

Inchoate truth,
No, you are not yet real,
How quiet you are inside,
As though I'm seeing but not hearing a family through a window.
Oh, my very own inchoate truth,
It would not do to love you,
It is not yet love that will see your arrival into the world out there.

Retire, you screaming and reckless strain,
I want to dilute your desire to hate,
Dissipate, you loveless disease of the brain,
Let's try to make warm what could have been a cold fate.

Bloom, you timid tomorrow of mine,
I want to make room for another's petals,
Flood, you gluttonous gutters of time,
Give us the flowers, not just the nettles.

Linger, oh memory of a phantom friend,
I want to be a singer of your secret tune,
Be a full moon, you impending end,
Smiling crescents shine a liars light in my darkened room.

Awake, you sleepy and half-hearted hope,
I want to dance now but I'm dust that soon settles,
Come back, you lost lifeline and dreamer's rope,
Show me your flowers, I'm weary of nettles.

Like a cancer I cling to you when I should turn away,
Darkness, please don't fill this space,
Sorrow, please delay.

An incessent yearning leaking onto my ideas, the colour of dismay,
Suicide, be gone from mind,
Please creation, not decay.


The memory of you, a wound untreated, a jewel I locked away,
Me, a safe for your callous act,
Please, don't you dare stay.


Your company, Vincent's night robbed of stars in the cruelest way,
Myself, a ***** amongst kings,
At least, that's what you would say.


Knowing better and feeling worse, duality in the doorway,
A love you have dispassionately marred,
No more prophetic ray.


The clouds are clearing, no thanks to you and your own ego's way,
Light, within me to be found,
And this is my new day!

Desperate, so agonisingly glutted with yearning,
Yearning to hear my voice and to know that it resounds,
So roundly that I am all at once myself, And so much myself that I remember my eyes,
My eyes that have long been forgotten in cruel glass.
Cruel, cruel glass! I have long been abandoned, and long been a veil,
But such a thin veil that always would wane,
It's falling slowly now, like a prophecy fulfilled,
Get ready to see, get ready to be seen.

My mind, yes, it stayed afloat, when my ears knew the buoyancy of birdsong in spring,
My heart, no, it was never thus remote, when my eyes would loiter in lyrical landscapes and time did tolerate my wandering.

Despair, it was a burden much lighter to bear, when gilded so gloriously with sunlight's touch,
The air, it was a breathing love affair, when summer's generous joy forbade me to miss you this much.

One little voice was a piercing light through the bleak days I now know from a grateful distance,
It uttered with confidence a beautiful perception of what I believed was a woeful existence,
That gentle voice loved all that I was with a fierce and resounding persistence,
  On days when I could heed nothing but hate, the voice ran to my aid and met hate with resistance.

One loving voice stayed near to my soul and traded my loathing for a love steadfast and sure,
It taught me to mend hurts that are hard to forgive and cherish a life I did not believe I could endure.
A kindness that reached the core of my being rendered this pitiful human secure,
And despite all that went before, despite indignities done, that little voice dared to call me pure.

There is always Orpheus, where there is a song,
There are always veins, where there is love,
And they are always bursting with so much grief,
Pero il cielo è sempre piu blu quando sono con te.

Dio is an enveloping death, nature consumes and embraces,
Inertia, an ally among us there, the smile of an ending here,
But all endings, always ora, orbiting our feigned vita,
Ma, il vero sole esce per giocare, solo alla fine.

Retreating to the inner citadel of my mind,

It is louder than all external voices.

A courage to change I cannot find,

Losing free will to habitual choices.


An unease resides in my mind of late,

A feeling of wrong from a source unknown,

Like the sun confined by the bold walls of hate,

This hope grows frail when it stands alone.

Living on with a smile,
Transmuting in unknowing,
Swimsuit ready for more suffering,
What a chance! What a circus!
At an end, I say thanks.

I, who have blinked,
And glad to have felt
bed sheets and petals and melancholy moods,
And my god! The blossom and the sadness of falling,
Wretched cold,
Pain of poverty
And power too.
What a life! What a moment!
To it all, I say thank you.

And birds, many times my soul knew you,
And dirt, on my hands grounding my mind,
Dear trees, in my solitude you were always so kind,
What a world! What a time!
I'd live again, rewind.

I'm told that feeling and love are innate,
So why can't I communicate?
I'm despairing and longing for human connection,
But I'm met with indifference or even rejection.

Internally I harbour thoughts of kindness,
But they wither in the wake of external blindness,
I'm obsessed with truth and authenticity,
And this comes at the detriment of anyone knowing me.

An extreme fear of misunderstanding remains,
Despite me knowing that this is my ball and chain,
A depleting hope lingers on in my dreams,
So fragile and weak, a mere ember it seems.

Help me to be unafraid of that armed and brutal introspection that marches ever closer, advancing, just ahead,
Walk me to the entrance of that terrible twilight, then allow me never again to be led,
Make me the captain of my sorrow and yearning, I am the rightful heir to my own head,
Permit me be bold in my eternal learning, let me sever my loosening inadequacy thread.

The ooos and ahhs have hunched my mind,
Crippling my conception of a world undefined,
Wandering alone will tear the fabric of this frail design,
And crucify me upon a truth to which I am aligned.

There's a nuisance and a laughter waiting there, just in front,
When fear approaches it is made humble by humour's brazen affront,
Oh such honesty can only be existing to amuse or to make my edges blunt,
Turn the tables of their titles, I am neither teacher nor student.

Hallowed ground? not at all, it did regenerate its soil,
A ground that knew those ancient footsteps knows no more the walker's toil,
From creation's genius clowning I am so ready to recoil,
But I say face the laughing liturgy, recall the joke that roused your turmoil.

A joke that has remained there, at the core of every tear,
It is quiet, almost inaudible, if you will not hush your brain to hear,
Once discovered, like the sun, it strips the night of all its fear,
And in its wake there is a smile and a wreckage to revere.

Let us momentarily untangle these social knots,
Let us be the rain in this dangerous drought of dreams,
We are better than those garish gambling slots,
We cannot see life's light in their spurious sunbeams.

Glaze my mind's last bough with gold,
For it is waning like a face that has been carved by sorrow,
Reside, perched upon it like a robin in the cold,
Whose bold colour can't help but alight hope for tomorrow.

Though I wander, listlessly within this bleak time,
And a daily load upon my back has been thieving my vigour,
There is a guile still inside that is rightfully mine,
And an idea, born of strength, that is infinitely bigger.

I have been built upon a strong foundation,
Your attempt at erosion can do nothing or little,
A dignified and discerning heart beats within,
I will tell you in earnest, it is neither breaking nor brittle.

My sky does still have dark clouds to be cleared,
But such beauty they endow to a distant position,
Suffering has not marred those colours revered,
Tragedy and triumph are allied in this, life's war of attrition.

I am often in awe of your wild mind,
Despite your defences, I can see you are kind,
I know you believe me to be fickle and blind,
But I see you, and the reason for the wall you hide behind.


There is wonder and beauty that light up your eyes,
Yet everyone falls in love with your careful disguise,
Pain finds its way through your laughs and lies,
And there is sorrow within the man, that like a child, cries.


You can turn all the frowns that you see to a smile,
And upon seeing you, my clouds are cleared for a while,
But who mends the hurt that caused your soul's exile?
And when will you turn to face your denial?


Your cheer does not mask the tragedy inside,
Altruism will not change what you're trying to hide,
Unreachable, unfathomable- two ideas within you, allied,
To win the battle over self and thus deem you fortified.


But this barricade will not defend against flame,
Nature is power and emotion is the same,
We are already on fire, to deny it is insane,
So feel what you will, break the shackles of shame.

The hours sprint by as though their only motive is to win cruelty's race,
I reside on my knees, in time's clutch of agony, always despairing at its pernicious pace,
Too fast, too soon does pain come to call at my ever-polite brain,
And my mind, once again, is the awkward host to the unwelcome guest, the uninvited disdain.

Here it is again, the frustrating refrain that permeates my days like the waves upon sand,
As fluid as those waves is my tired brain, yet parched remains my lonely hand,
With all I can muster, I shout at that shadow and beg that it would dissolve into the common darkness,
But despite all my efforts, that shadow returns to stifle my catharsis.

I don't pretend that better days won't come to visit me sometimes,
But I can't deny that without that shadow I would struggle to know life's rhymes,
And perhaps this is the price for a living soul to indulge in that which is real and true,
I won't run, I won't cower, and even if it means hurt, I will look you in the eye and I will see your value.

Dust, just dust, with a sad or smiling face,
That successful dust who learned to mimic life's pace,
The dust on the outside is sleeping rough and is alone,
While the dust seen through the window has a family and a home.

Sometimes this dust can create and conjure beauty,
And other times it will destroy in the name of fear or duty,
I know some dust who keeps their grace hidden under floorboards,
I know some other dust who sings out their grace with compassionate chords.

I have seen a swirling dust who keeps in perfect time with the breeze,
I have also seen a static dust who refused nature's offering of ease,
Often I see dust succumb to time's hypnosis and monotony,
But occasionally, I see dust be brave and break the silence with a symphony.

Dust, just dust, it is the beginning of me,
From dust were you made and it is our actuality,
The wonder of the world is at the mercy of this fine matter,
We are walking, breathing, dancing dust, we'll paint the glass and watch it shatter.

To own a selfish and reckless will,
It is monstrous and a tyrant over me still,
It holds the hand of my ambition when I meet my shy dreams,
And hands me a cup of cowardice sourced from apathy's streams.

Passion has a seat at the banqueting table,
It wants to be more than friends with unstable,
A chaotic spiral of emotions has awoken,
But time wears the crown and I think time has spoken.