Have another cigarette, roll the dice,
they’re becoming more expensive,  
though they’ve always been twice the price.

Engaging in a vice, where you pay twice!
Is really quite nice, as a vice,
for all vices take there slice!
For a potential final price.

Treading water,  just hold your smoke above the surf!
Take a drag“carefully” between each wave,
to more appreciate its worth!

Friend! Everyone needs a friend!
Someone to turn to if a mountain to climb,
reliable within all of your crisis,
for this friend will light every time.

These smoky thin placebo that also ****!
You cannot help but admire,
a vice of death? That mimics breath?
A buoyancy aid and liar!

Would that the sea be shallow,
I would walk to places far,
just a pair of decent wellingtons,
no need for ship, nor plane, nor car.

Would that the sea be shallow,
with my rucksack and clanking fares,
I'd walk this day, this sunny day,
detaching from my cares.  

Would that the sea be shallow,
for all those that like me stare,
I'd send word to these folk, meet upon these shores,
that we may share our weight of wares.

Would that the sea be shallow,
of this message that I'd send,
come walk with me, this sunny day,
with me beside you as your friend.

You do not know me, and yet you do,
and may never know me, nor I you,  
but you and I will always hold true, as promised,
maybe this time around, love anew, as promised.

You’ll always know your one true love,
for you swore to love again,
fickled not by life as others may be,
for what you know of love, life nor death shall wane.

Whether god permits, or born of chance,
is an embrace felt before,
of countless smiles, of laughter, warmth,
and the memory that we swore.

Look into my eyes and remember,
do not fear my gaze, not you.
For I remember your love
like a “warm spearmint hurricane”

And that we swore to love anew.

What a strange little world
and what strange little people,
flying high in the sky,
over chimney *** and steeple.

To the eyes in the sky
upon the swoop of a wing,
banking and cutting through strange creations,
watch me“loop”and turn and sing!

What of your day! speak its name?
Tell me dear fellows of the “winds”
tell of the world, of my grass and trees
for the loser of the game rescinds!

Watch me fly, watch me turn,
To the sun yet “never” burn?
Do I not”amaze”your eyes within the winds?
Come tell me of the clouds, and the rolling seas?
For the loser of the game rescinds, Speak!

Would you have me soothe a soul, that has been sold,
my energies merged with your own.
Forgo to forgive, with the illusion of live,
my existence not of right, but loan.

Would you wish me kneel before an alter of nothing,
So that alter may even be.
Baptised with eyes, of mutual regret,
that embrace they will no longer see.

Would you have me feel that all I feel is wrong,
that you are the path to my soul.
That you would hold a heart, and explain its wonder,
warmly smile as my own becomes coal.

Such wonders within, beyond this glass,
so enticing and vivid to see.
Yet what is the measure of true reflection?
Standing back....The reflection of me.

Sadistication and its emulation,without mastication
will equal multiplication!  
This frustration without contemplation will have variation
  on devastation!    

A harsh abbreviation yet no dispensation can be given
after creation of devastation!
A simple collation.  

Without diversification of sadistication,
which requires administration.
The vocation of sadistication without animation
may be cause for consternation!

Although the occupation of sadistication
doesn’t mean emulation!

Relation of vocation doesn’t mean cultivation of sadistication for any duration or location for elevation of this abomination!!

But all configurations of populations to avoid
annihilation should suffer declaration of negation.
NO procrastinations!
Sadistications further elevations and diversifications
of annihilations, in all nations!!  All nations!!!

The ****** of a gust permeates my jacket!    
Power lines wail in the howl of a dark stormy racket!    

A plastic bottle from recycling cried”help me”as it pass!
My jeans cling against a rainy wind, my adventure now a farce!

The brim of my hat pulled tightly down,      
   ”*****”like the wings of a bird!        

A sky of pitch in a mid afternoon,    
as if no more ignore gods word!    

A roar of wind that comes for me,    
“closes”like a demon at a corners turn!    

Struck no longer of  form I stagger,  
do you know me? If not learn!  

A shifting sheen of sheets of rain,
   of distant thunder and drowning drain!    


I walk with frozen marrow alone,  
beneath a sky that dies!