Hear me, Lord of the Stars!
For thee I have worshipped ever
With stains and sorrows and scars,
With joyful, joyful endeavour.
Hear me, O lily-white goat!
O crisp as a thicket of thorns,
With a collar of gold for Thy throat,
A scarlet bow for Thy horns!

Here, in the dusty air,
I build Thee a shrine of yew.
All green is the garland I wear,
But I feed it with blood for dew!
After the orange bars
That ribbed the green west dying
Are dead, O Lord of the Stars,
I come to Thee, come to Thee crying.

The ambrosial moon that arose
With ******* slow heaving in splendour
Drops wine from her infinite snows.
Ineffably, utterly, tender.
O moon! ambrosial moon!
Arise on my desert of sorrow
That the Magical eyes of me swoon
With lust of rain to-morrow!

Ages and ages ago
I stood on the bank of a river
Holy and Holy and holy, I know,
For ever and ever and ever!
A priest in the mystical shrine
I muttered a redeless rune,
Till the waters were redder than wine
In the blush of the harlot moon.

I and my brother priests
Worshipped a wonderful woman
With a body lithe as a beast's
Subtly, horribly human.
Deep in the pit of her eyes
I saw the image of death,
And I drew the water of sighs
From the well of her lullaby breath.

She sitteth veiled for ever
Brooding over the waste.
She hath stirred or spoken never.
She is fiercely, manly chaste!
What madness made me awake
From the silence of utmost eld
The grey cold slime of the snake
That her poisonous body held?

By night I ravished a maid
From her father's camp to the cave.
I bared the beautiful blade;
I dipped her thrice i' the wave;
I slit her throat as a lamb's,
That the fount of blood leapt high
With my clamorous dithyrambs
Like a stain on the shield of the sky.

With blood and censer and song
I rent the mysterious veil:
My eyes gaze long and long
On the deep of that blissful bale.
My cold grey kisses awake
From the silence of utmost eld
The grey cold slime of the snake
That her beautiful body held.

But --- God! I was not content
With the blasphemous secret of years;
The veil is hardly rent
While the eyes rain stones for tears.
So I clung to the lips and laughed
As the storms of death abated,
The storms of the grevious graft
By the swing of her soul unsated.

Wherefore reborn as I am
By a stream profane and foul
In the reign of a Tortured Lamb,
In the realm of a sexless Owl,
I am set apart from the rest
By meed of the mystic rune
That reads in peril and pest
The ambrosial moon --- the moon!

For under the tawny star
That shines in the Bull above
I can rein the riotous car
Of galloping, galloping Love;
And straight to the steady ray
Of the Lion-heart Lord I career,
Pointing my flaming way
With the spasm of night for a spear!

O moon! O secret sweet!
Chalcedony clouds of caresses
About the flame of our feet,
The night of our terrible tresses!
Is it a wonder, then,
If the people are mad with blindness,
And nothing is stranger to men
Than silence, and wisdom, and kindness?

Nay! let him fashion an arrow
Whose heart is sober and stout!
Let him pierce his God to the marrow!
Let the soul of his God flow out!
Whether a snake or a sun
In his horoscope Heaven hath cast,
It is nothing; every one
Shall win to the moon at last.

The mage hath wrought by his art
A billion shapes in the sun.
Look through to the heart of his heart,
And the many are shapes of one!
An end to the art of the mage,
And the cold grey blank of the prison!
An end to the adamant age!
The ambrosial moon is arisen.

I have bought a lily-white goat
For the price of a crown of thorns,
A collar of gold for its throat,
A scarlet bow for its horns.
I have bought a lark in the lift
For the price of a **** of sherry:
With these, and God for a gift,
It needs no wine to be merry!

I have bought for a wafer of bread
A garden of poppies and clover;
For a water bitter and dead
A foam of fire flowing over.
From the Lamb and his prison fare
And the owl's blind stupor, arise
Be ye wise, and strong, and fair,
And the nectar afloat in your eyes!

Arise, O ambrosial moon
By the strong immemorial spell,
By the subtle veridical rune
That is mighty in heaven and hell!
Drip thy mystical dews
On the tongues of the tender fauns
In the shade of initiate yews
Remote from the desert dawns!

Satyrs and Fauns, I call.
Bring your beauty to man!
I am the mate for ye all'
I am the passionate Pan.
Come, O come to the dance
Leaping with wonderful whips,
Life on the stroke of a glance,
Death in the stroke of the lips!

I am hidden beyond,
Shed in a secret sinew
Smitten through by the fond
Folly of wisdom in you!
Come, while the moon (the moon!)
Sheds her ambrosial splendour,
Reels in the redeless rune
Ineffably, utterly, tender!
Hark! the appealing cry
Of deadly hurt in the hollow: ---
Hyacinth! Hyacinth! Ay!
Smitten to death by Apollo.
Swift, O maiden moon,
Send thy ray-dews after;
Turn the dolorous tune
To soft ambiguous laughter!

Mourn, O Maenads, mourn!
Surely your comfort is over:
All we laugh at you lorn.
Ours are the poppies and clover!
O that mouth and eyes,
Mischevious, male, alluring!
O that twitch of the thighs
Dorian past enduring!

Where is wisdom now?
Where the sage and his doubt?
Surely the sweat of the brow
Hath driven the demon out.
Surely the scented sleep
That crowns the equal war
Is wiser than only to weep ---
To weep for evermore!

Now, at the crown of the year,
The decadent days of October,
I come to thee, God, without fear;
Pious, chaste, and sober.
I solemnly sacrifice
This first-fruit flower of wine
For a vehicle of thy vice
As I am Thine to be mine.

For five in the year gone by
I pray Thee give to me one;
A love stronger than I,
A moon to swallow the sun!
May he be like a lily-white goat
Crisp as a thicket of thorns,
With a collar of gold for his throat,
A scarlet bow for his horns!

He is Peter Pan,
I realize with a chuckle;
Some boys never grow up:
he surely hasn't, probably never will
He thinks he is immortal and probably he is
He is a dream, a fleeting shadow
Always chasing a piece of himself
And a girl he can love
But he never finds what he needs
He's missing a mother;
no woman can care for him like a mother
and a lover
He's a mischevious charmer
He'll appear suddenly;
steal your heart, leave swiftly
Leaving his Wendy to search for traces, glimpses of him
For her whole life

but that could be said of anywhere.
However, some places
seem to have hypnotic hips and easy eyes
with a mischevious, seductive scarab grin.
Like magic, it pulls me in.
Here, labels like good or bad are trite,  
there is only this magnetic whirling
energy culling myself and others inside
simply because we picked up the phone and showed up.

But now it's our responsibility to find balance
amidst serene listless apathy on the beach
and party hardy into the midnight arty energy scene jack & coke down the rabbit hole we go.

Some Bedouins say Dahab means "time  goes,"
which has me convinced Moses and his folks weren't lost
in terms of location but lost when it relates to time,
trying to find a middle path
between excess and sloth
in this south Sinai town.


Yes, not two but three schools of thought,
forming a triangle in this hypnotizing spiral;
two points of excess and one of balance!
All three balance each other,
and it's hell trying to stay in the center of this eye
of this metaphorical storm of enlightenment.
Naturally, gravitational forces pull some to the
gray matter island headspace of echoed sins
and carnivorous lascivious pandemonium.  
Not everyone will find what they seek on the warm beaches here,
or the raving, bubble foam dance parties in strobe light nights.
That's just the way it is;
there's not enough room for everyone in the center.

And this is where we learn to accept ones place,
because only then can we move on to another plane,
on another beach with more to learn and some to teach.

Sometimes you just gotta laugh the situations Life puts you in
Standing there stuck in the train, jammed in with all the others
'Cos the previous train had been cancelled
And now the crowd was too big to get a seat sitting down
I'm pushed up behind the back of this young girl's head
She has a pigtail or what was formerly a pigtail
It's been cut rather abruptly, truncated prematurely and then tied off
So that what's left of it now sticks out directly from the back of her head
And it's stuck right into my nose,
And of course, she's speaking to someone in front of her
And she's nodding her head up and down as if acknowledging
   her friend's words
And sometimes she shakes her head the other way
As if acknowledging her friend's negative feelings as well
So she's going Yes...yes....yes! up and down
And No...no...no! the other way
And my poor nose is being mercilessly swished up and down, back and forth, all over the place
It feels like a shoe being shined or a car in a car wash
And it's tickling me something terrible
And I'm there desperately wiggling my nose
Trying to avert an itch or a sneeze coming on
And secretly hoping no one is watching this
Because I think I'd look real foolish if they are,
And I'm also thinking to myself "I know I could do with a bit more human contact/ intimacy in my life
But this... this is ridiculous,
And then I start thinking of this Site and all the lovely tender intimate poems I've read
Those lovely hugs and kisses, sweet cuddles and caresses
Those warm embraces and even warmer entanglements
And I'm thinking " Well that's just typical isn't it, others get all those lovely things
While I get something... something weird like this.
But then y'know after the first feelings of awkwardness and discomfort have worn off I start thinking
"But it is rather funny though" and then "actually it's probably the highlight of my day"
Gradually I find myself warming to this little pigtail
She's blonde (another blonde) like some lovely Swedish thing
With my nose buried in her, I get her scent, her sweet perfume
I breathe her in deeply
Then I find myself getting a little aroused
And I find myself almost talking to her, giving her a personality
"You mischevious little Pixie, you flirtatious little Trixie
You like to see me suffer don't you, the way you hit me back and forth
Baby you're so vile, but hey! I like your smile
Come on! Hit me again harder!
I'll never submit to you, you'll never rule me"
I could almost see her, some cold ice Lady wrapped in furs brandishing her whip
But then suddenly it's like I hear this...this little reply coming back at me
I think I'm starting to hallucinate
It says "Feel my scent, it's heaven sent. Here let me warm you up a little"
As again I feel the whoosh of her whip
"You *****! you *****!! I say defiant
"Hey there Serious Boy" she says, "afraid to be seen talking with me.
O! what'll they think, what'll they say Oooo Whooo!
Who cares, who gives a **** what they  think
It's just me and you here now, just the two of us
What about it Serious Boy, what do you say
Won't you come out and play, come out and dance with me
O! you're so buttoned up
Come out and laugh and be silly with me
O! drench me in lovely laughter and wonderful silliness
Big man in Poet land
Wanna hear some of my poetry
" The secret of the sun
   It's written on my ***
   Wanna see my secret ***'?"
"That's bad poetry" I say
Ignoring me she continues
"Through my eyes the door to adventure lies
Hey Boy! Let it swing, don't hold it in
Just let it dangle, dangle like an obtuse triangle"
I had to smile, "I like it Baby, your poetry, it really... really speaks to me"
And then she looks deep into my eyes
"I bet your magic wand, it's like James Bond"
She has me smiling and laughing to myself, she's so...so too much
And I'm totally lost in this, our magical converse
But then suddenly...suddenly the world, it interrupts, our train it stops,
Some people get off, then she reaches down to get her bag
She starts to leave, to move toward the door
"But you can't go, we were just getting acquainted, we were just getting to know one another"
And it's like she gives me this one last wistful smile
And then she's gone, heading off down the platform
I was gonna go after her, follow her out onto the street
But I knew her owner, she'd probably soon start to twig
She'd turn and accost me "You're following me, aren't you, why are you following me ?"
And I'd say "I'm not following you, I...I'm following Her behind you. Back, back in the train we...we"
Then she'd start to scream "Stalker! ******!" and then I'd be grabbed, set upon
The police would be called and I'd be hauled off, dragged before some Court
Some Judge, he'd be looking down at me sternly, "What do you have to say for yourself ?  How do you plead ?"
And all I'd be able to say would be "Lack of fun, your Honour, lack of silliness, lack of... warmth in my life
My seriousness and indecision, their slowly killing me, like a tight gripping ivy
Their strangling all the joy out of my life
How do I plead ? Loneliness, I guess, loneliness in the first degree".

And y'know I still look for her in crowds and in trains, my little blonde Miss Pigtail, I'd know her anywhere.
And I still remember that day we had together and all the fun we had on the train.

She linked her arms behind her back and tiptoed down the hallway. Her family was all asleep.
Her mouth was drawn up at the corners and her eyes twinkled, even in the dark.

What could she be up to? thought no one.

She turned the corner into the kitchen. Her hair swinging around her shoulders.
A hum escaped her lips, the melody unidentifiable.
With a long arm she reached up and opened a cupboard, her other arm following suit to retrieve a glass.
Hopping quickly over to the sink, the long arms came into play again, switching the faucet on and filling her cup.

Thirsty, at this time of night? asked no one.

Her smile grew wider. She straightened out, having been bent over the sink.
Those long arms grew stiff.
She spoke,

"What are you doing in my house?" Her voice was deep and clear, like a river.

There was silence throughout the house.

She turned quickly, the water in her glass sloshing over onto her fingers.

There was no one there.
Her face became sad, the mischevious glint lost.

What are you doing in my house? wondered no one.

"Nothing." She said.
And went back to bed.

In a room sheltered by the passing of the seasons,
Trapped within the tempest of my consciousness,
A forbidden unravels between the two of us,
Like a wistful fragrance, losing itself in the winds.

You asked me to draw my reserved strength,
You sparked my dead empathy.
You spoke to my heart and asked it never to bleed and cry.
And then you left me by myself, alone in the face of my worst enemy, myself.

Today, as I sit under a naked full moon,
As its moonbeams pierce my solitary heart,
With the breeze running over my wounds,
My heart yearns to know where you are.

In order to fend those I loved,
I corrupted myself to become the one thing I hated,
The prey became the predator, lifted his sword,
Yet who can I embrace with my sword raised?

With your sweet words,
With the promise of your mischevious smile,
You lowered my arms.
You brought me back, but you left me alone.

I rest my psyche against the darkness that threatens to overcome my soul,
The fires you lit are long gone.
Sometimes, I think you were a cruel joke,
A jape by fate, to harden my glass heart.

Now, my raised sword serves no good,
A man wielding a sword, yet yielding his will to live,
Protects no one, he only kills.
All I want now is to rest in the embrace of cold death.

I do not know what I want anymore,
Perhaps you left me soul dead.
Nevertheless, i wish to forget,
I wish for your traces on my soul to be erased.
In light of sorrow, the moments of joy you left,
Pierce me harsher than barbed arrows.

Tell me.
How do I erase you from my soul?

Jasper my best canine friend,
I have a message to send,
Ears so big, fluffy and free,
Always put a smile on me,
Oval sandy rock eyes stare,
Fur as dark as a black bear,
Coat so shiny lions mane,
Spirit animal large chain,
Mischevious wagging tail,
Someone outside bark and wail,
Muddy prints from paws alike,
Not an aspect I dislike.

Hearts, pound
Hands touch
Lips approach
To make a sound

Our tongs and our lips
Produce a warm melody
That make our cheeks
Dance to our heartbeats

A playfull, tasty kiss
Is Adored by some
But it is its sound
That I truely miss

A perfect scene
Pictured in my mind
Of two lovable beings
Wanting to be just one

Neighter of us is in it
Is merely a fantasy
A mischevious dream
I wish i could end it

How she shines mischevious bright
Lighting a way almost
Her light touches me, but I cannot remain
Heavenly body in the dark of night
Outshines the stars
But spoilt by this day
Cool elegance to the eye
Yet burns bright to my soul
Transient, but ever there
Dependable as the tide
Ephemeral as the night
Mysterious universe so close at hand

Cross the neighborhood,
There's our old school.
Full of memories.
Ones we all we all wish,
Would've lasted.

Great friends then,
enemies now.
Lovers turned strangers.
Decisions found regrets.

You & I,
We'd be friends forever,
'Till we got our shades, that is.
Which wasn't much time.
But in between,
Lays beauty in our childhood.

Sitting in my seat,
I turn 'round,
at the smiling thought of you.
Only to find your welcoming eyes.

We used to laugh together.

Send notes in French class past our strict teacher,
Love notes soon to be; as everyone thought.

The times when my co-worker was away,
and you took the shift
to work next to me,
play 'MASH',
and do our mischevious things.

The time when we went trick-or-treating,
and our parents made us take the (ahem, gruesome-looking) photo together.

The time we both got cast as the main characters in a play (where eventually we found out we'd possibly have to kiss.) You were cool with it.

The almost daily embarrassing time.
Once, we were walking in the hallways to class, eyes locked.
So into the conversation, I bumped into a table and dropped all of my books. (Well, it was in the middle of the hallways!!!) You helped.

The time we went on MSN just to see eachother.

The time you (somehow got hold of my number) called me for the first time:
The time my heart raced to pick up.

Seemed everyone was right.

The time we'd gone to a music concert.

The time we'd talk on breaks.

The time we'd have lunch together.

The time we held hands.

If I was a mind reader,
I'd know you're curious.
Wondering why it isn't so anymore.
So am I.

Strapped to the outside of a rocket ship with nothing in the way.
I took off, and I just kept going. Reaching a height higher than heaven.
Nothing to orient myself. No time. No space. No self. Nothing but darkness stretching out all around me.
A roar of a million voices trying to scream over eachother resonates through my head.
I then came into orbit. Everything begun to crystalize.
No longer was I confounded to the restrictions of flesh. By birth and by death. I was out of my shell. Out of my world.

Complex geometrical patterns formed around me. Beating. Breathing. Moving. Almost like they were alive.
I had no way to process this. It was all so perfoundly alien. This was not my world. "Where the **** am I?" I thought
Terror possesses me. I feel like I am going to **** myself. Then all of a sudden these beings of indescribable features surround me, telling me to relax. "Relax now. Take it in. Settle down."
They told me they were my guides. They were going to show me around.

They gave me the tour of this universe, "Look at this! Look at that!" they said excitedly, showing me worlds that I can not explain, yet they seemed to reflect me.

I suddenly lost them. Where has my tour group gone?!
Suddenly these entites besieged me. Giving off negative energy. Holy ****! Jesters with tight pants and bell hats. Giving me the finger. They were so mischevious. Surrounding. Laughing. Jumping inside of me. ****** my soul. Is this what hell feels like?!

The darkness begins to clear, as a large face of a shimmering blue woman, with flaming white hair blowing in a non-existant wind, comes into view. Her face has so much dimension, with thousands of other faces upon her own. A snake tongue escapes through her lips, wrapping around me, pulling me into her mouth. I am flung into a space that is pure white, and a warm tingling sensation fills me.
This is what heaven feels like. This is my home. I think I found god.
I have never felt so much love. I have never felt so alive.

I then opened my eyes, trying to process my surroundings. I was in my home. On the couch. Sitting in front of the tv. My friend Jason was sitting next to me. He asked me what did I see. I leaped off of the couch, screaming "It is all a simulation!" I pulled my shirt off, swinging it around like Daniel from the bible. I tried to throw myself down the stairs, but was stopped when Jason tackled me. He held me in a chokehold, and while this was happening I exclaimed:

"On earth I am just a monkey,
but out there I am so much more.
I am not just a speck on a spinning ball.
I am more than the skin I wear,
More than the title I bear.
There is so much out there.
This world is not real.
What is real is me."

When I finally calmed down, Jason asked me how I was doing.
I looked up at him and I said "I am a work in process."

She smelled
camphor and wonder,
my wet hands caressed
the fruits i wished to plunder,
mind transcended
to clouds and whispers,
falling incessently like a pleasant rain
drenching us , till we can ask for no more.

Her lips were
soft waves sent by
the sea of tranquil night
that nibbled  the shores,
little by little.
Her lips on my lips created
a myth, of a land of happiness
which before my eyes became real,
i found my inner pains have
completely vanished,
we were consumed by a pleasure,
that was full of nocturnal vigour.

What would you do
when,  ***** are on fire?
we were in hunger,
she said, we would build a slow fire,
and make our pulsating veins dance
around it, till every hunger is  fully satiated.
I found this dance  so tantalizing,
she was in fits of pleasure, surging
from the  deep centre
that kept on erupting.

It seemed our bed had  swift moving wings,
she swung up above me
a bird ******* honey from a flower
hovering  over it, on her wings,
her alacratic moves
made her look like an acrobat
perched on top,
the  journey was across time and
we lost all awareness of place,
she moaned her mantras,
pleasure seeker's chants,
to attain the higher reaches of the peak,
faintly visible.
We came swimming though
the turgid waters,with  an urgency
rarely known.

The hands of raising sun
was feeling our bed,
i looked up to see what happens
the night has stealthily left,
early morning light mischevious
peep through the window
to see us lying
in each other's hands

Then again,
we saw the sun a perfect red ball
falling down, to drench us in purple rain
we ran after it , amorous spirit
still glowing inside,
and at that moment we heard
melodies within our bodies.

my scrambled and dysfunctional paragraphical thoughts once again:

so we sit outside drinking high life outside the pigs place, waiting on the band to play. almost 21 what can I say, but
I got a few more days to go.

and you know its like a waist land when you can't see the sunshine under all those alcoholic shadows, what a way to live.

Feeling like a lost dog on a pole in a winter snow
w  a  i  t  i  n  g ______outside the bar,
                           I've seen Wayne Coyne with fur and heels on arm,
and I'm //almost uneven in a toxic drink // but my cig  a r e t t e **burns ash
out on the oklahoma street.
        we can make it home on of Montreal beat.  

oh so mischevious as a fox in dark leaves of green and Desire.
asleep on a coach under sheets of mystery and kitten fur.
with crusty toothpaste and ****** gums cleaning off what was
to , always
judged as a minor  star in a music bar
                 we are all here,                and now,                   and wild.

Come,
as an untamed dessert lover with a tipped cup of emotion in caffeen steam.
                 oh wonderful traveler with polar bear ice cream .
                                 "look at all these people cages!"
                                        boxes of broken penniless dreams.
"that's a cool tree house though,  and that oh yeah another condemened house for you to live in"                            HA                                ­                       HAH ahh ha ha....

SO, sometimes I feel like a circus clown at the rail of room 39
                           like I've always thought with sound, and needing to finish work,
            take my medicine as I should
                get directions from trickster's with inhumane sorcery,           could you tell
                                                            ­                                                             them I did well?

realizing its all a wave that crashes us like a tidled surf.
                                                                ­ I want like dear old foes a place to be a fool and take it all slowly.
             What was once said to be real
                          is long bled
                           as a heart
                upon the sleeve turns blue.

You've finally caught me.

We've raced for years, but never touched.

Your sister, envy, had grazed my cheeks every now and again, but you're far more devious.

You don't burn like her,
you sour; your energy collides,
collapses, into a bitter liquid.

As soon as we met, I wanted to escape,
but your mischevious glint held me,
and every thought against my will sprouted forth.

You infected me.

You took my rational mind and crushed it,
you twisted my trust, tainted my love,
and now I have to face you.

You're not like your sister,
and I'll be ****** to let you stay,
craddling me like a small child,
listening to your fallacious tales.

I'm better than that,
so the next time you see me,
tell you and your sister goodbye.

Dear Anonymous,
There is a slim to none chance that you will ever actually read this. This is simply a way for me to clear my head of all thoughts of you. Things I wish to say but never will.
I do not want to sound foolish but I almost believe that fate brought us together. I never would have thought that in my travels I would meet an incredible person such as yourself. Since the day I met you, I was drawn to you like moths to light. Besides the fact that you are quite handsome, you have a mind so beautiful and untamed. Although I know I did not love you in the fragment of time that we spent together,  I realized there are many things about you that I can recall I do love.
I love the way you spoke. I sat with you for hours and just listened while you spoke passionately about a time in history or a philosophy or  anything in between. With you, a conversation was never boring. I am still in awe as to how intelligent you are. I did not want to miss a word you said.
I love the way you made me feel. I remember how my stomach would turn upside down when I ran into you everyday on my walk to and from campus. I love the way my heart would race whenever a mischevious smirk appeared on your face.
I love how you let me be myself. You laughed at my dumb jokes but did not make me feel silly for them. I love the way you laughed. I loved when your lips crashed into mine and made my whole body feel like spaghetti. I love how your fingers felt wrapped around mine while we walked through the busy streets of the city. I love how you made me feel safe.
Most importantly of all, I love how you wanted me as much as I wanted you. Then before we knew it, we had to say goodbye. It was as if I was awakened from a long dream and returned to reality. You could say that what we had was contemporary. It occured in what was then the present, and too complex to be depict by others. Thank you for all the memories we've shared.
                                                            See you again someday,
                                                        ­                            Me.

The face is a most
Important place
Not only is it where we
May display adverts
And worse,
To be read by others
(Mostly mischevious spin)
It is where the five
Sense doors open,
Sight, sound, smell,
Taste and touch
There isn't much more
To talk about

The rest of the body
Is only a sense door
The face has many more receptors
Feeding the greedy
And ravenous mind
With waterfalls
Of information
About
The outside world
Most of which is wrong

Sean Hunt  
Windermere April 2015

Oftentimes I find my self entranced
in how you'll catch me at a glance
when you first walk through our front door.
Will my leg dangle to the floor
with mischevious intent, my breast
concave inside itself and dressed
translucent in skin, glowing radiant
in what I reflect, a moon grey slate,
from your light source?
A celestial body on its course,
will I eclipse myself in the blinding dark
of an unconscious development
that lends me trembles delicate,
a slumbering lunar element circumvented
by a halo of blonde curls, suspended?
I spend centuries predicting
the me's I have and will depict,
yet it never is as I intend it.
You gravitate to me, unrestricted,
because we find ourselves addicted
to each other's whole, unscripted.

I don't know how we got here...

I'll be honest,
I'm sorry that we're always fighting,
That we don't see eye to eye no more,
And that twinkle in your eye is gone -
I'm sorry,
That our love is withering.

I'll be honest,
I miss when things were rosy,
When you and I just made each other blush,
And our lips were inseparable;
When my hands couldn't keep away from your soft skin,
And we were acting lovey-dovey, ignoring the unrequested attention of wandering eyes.

I'm scared, when you scream and yell,
I'm heartbroken, when you cry because of me,
I'm debilitated, when you won't let me hold you,
I'm stunned, when you don't accept my apology.

I miss,
When you and I,
Didn't care much about the label,
We were good friends that's what we said...
But soon later you wanted more:
And you got it...

Then
"We",
Started becoming an underused word,
The bonds formed by mischevious nights
Shamelessly crying on one another's shoulders,
And divulging of blackmail-worthy, jaw-dropping secrets,
Starter weakening, separating...

Is there any possibility that things will get rosy again?
That you'll stop getting mad at me and I'll stop hurting you?
Is there a chance, just a slight chance,
That the girl I fell in love with will come back...
Or, have we... Have I killed her?

A happy song plays in a happy home
Hums of the chorus along with sound of the chores

Unceasing noise of laughter
Clatter of children's games

Sitting together in the balcony
Breeze beats at their talkative face

Nonchalant old stories of shaking voices
Whooshes of the fast moving fan

Girls laughing elegantly
at their mischevious plan

This is the story of a happy family
Oblivious to what trauma could be

In the same home where there is no gloom
Where colorful and variety of flowers bloom

Also stays the little princess who sits and weeps
Witnessing the false face of a doublefaced creep.

The snowflakes came down,
Frantic children
whirling around, pushed around
trying to find their way home.

The night was cold,
the type of cold that snuck under all your coats and hats and scarves
and carved you out little by little,
Slowly,
seeping into your bones.

But as he stood there, amidst
All the fury of the winds,
the mischevious tickles of the playful snow,
All he felt was warmth,
and he smiled.

O Angel, thou art my twin flame,
Two beings of love and light who art the same,
A Beauty I want to loudly proclaim,
Because of which my own wings became,
O twin flame, thou art a guide
To which my truest words abide,
A valiant warrior at my side,
A peace in which I want to hide,
O spirit guide, thou art judicious,
Yet coy and mischevious,
Never are you devious,
But to your virtue they are oblivious,
But on your blazing wings Earth takes flight,
And finds truth in immortal delight.

My twin flame, he knows how to heal,
And stoke kinship feelings most real,
I wish I could in return manifest his own joy,
I sing for blessings for the sublime hippie boy,
He creates a band of love and protection,
Clamouring care and affection,
Embracing me in all directions,
My Heart imbued with passion's inflection,
My twin flame, we are united,
From tyrant's kingdom interdicted,
But even for him we are not blighted,
For our Love set Children's hearts alighted.

My twin flame and I, we are in sacred union,
Two souls joined in reverential communion,
Two Hearts enamoured of one another, embroiled,
Painting Hearts with colours royal.

Soft heavy shade of unrelenting mischevious boredom
Killing off the weak of our youth
Plauging the soft minded soft handed rich pocketed crickets of the Earth
Sounding off from a siren that is coated in oil
In blood
In computer symetry that if shown to a child
Would just begin to cry
Have you no souls?
Have you no heart underneath that starched shirt?
Where in ourselves is the need to **** oneself
Off like that?
Winding away the hours spending earning balancing mistrusting
Saying that one is learning but towards what?
Ignorance is not bliss but a black corner that one is now blinded by
The shadow drawings are illuminated and cause glee
But the shadow makers are the evil ones
Men and women behind dashes of black ink
Memo books scribbled through every line
Tucked away for absolute Americanized security
America...how has our trust faltered so far and so fast?
Will we will gain it back?...
America...
Are you there?

Night falls, leaves fall..
You come, I go.

I feel a rush behind my back.
I know I'll die if you attack.

But this rush has a different pulse this time
It feels like I'm running away from something mine.

With one last gulp of cold fresh air
I turn around at you and stare
I see your dark eyes shining bright
Looking mischevious during this fast flight.

I know I look worried and desperate too
You reflect my emotions well, you do.
I must not trust you
This wolf in disguise
The boy who is able to **** without fight.

But just as I flinch you let out a sound
A sound like a howl but I have no fright.
Your telling me feelings the ones that I crave.

I might be mad but you can sure stay.
For never in eternity have I met someone so cold
Turn into someone as burning as coal.

Sad news today
After 57 years of marriage
Mr. and Mrs. Potato Head
are getting a divorce

(Or is that "potatoe" as George W. would say.  I never pass up an oppertunity to make fun of that ridiculous *******)

Anyway

Divorce must be ******* a kid

I skipped that part
having never met my bio-dad

My mom was a trooper though
I was a mischevious handful

I remember when i was 4
my mom was going to paint my room
Well i had a different time table than her
So when she was unaware
i tried my hand at interior decorating

Apparently she didn't want the room
carpet and all
painted in blue and red
splashes and handprints
I got an E for effort though

Having never had a father til that point
I never knew the feeling of losing one

In those days the kid automaticaly went to the mom

Having to decide
is an awful thing for a child to have to do
And basically they have to

I love you my little pawn
Says mommy
I love you my little pawn
Says daddy

It must leave all 3 emotionally scarred

Sometimes marraiges just don't work out
What can you do?

I can only hope they draw
on their initial spark of love
to handle the situation
with the care that it needs

Stay together for the kids?
Ultimately i think that just leads to bigger scars

Respect your loved ones
Former, present and future

And for Gods sake
remember to keep your childs innocence intact

Like a sack of potatoes
So are the days of our lives

'. If anyone competes as an Athlete  he does not receive the victors crown unless he competes
according to the rules 2 Timothy ch 2 v 5

I watched from the hallway of 19 Cimla Creasant ,my Gran with her Bible praying by herself .
Just Gran and God , her daily act of obedience unto thee.
' Call yourself a Christian ? '. My Grans rebuke of some mischevious deed ,
For all I knew were scorcher comics and superman books , and sooty and sweep
Squashed in a cupboard .
Yet Gran has her victors Crown her wreath of golden bronze , She ran her race with Gods
Good grace , and at last seen Christ face to face ' well done my good and faithful servant . '
Green shield stamps coop books , ham salads and cups of tea .
To look out over skewin and see the night lights shine as if just for me .
Then there was rusty the dog , and the odd 50 p from Aunty Jane in our grateful hands
For an Ice cream for being good as gold ,
We would listen for the coo coo bird on the hour and like trumpton take a bow .
My Grandads shed where My Father as boy would hammer nails on wooden floor ,
And the scarey cracked old mirror at the very back of the wooden floors.
Of walks to Opels for fish and Chips with white wet hanky at hand .
Sudden stops , just to listen to her grand children talk  and walk down the Cimla again .

Jesus Christ has risen today , Gran took us to her church one Easter
To sit in pews and sing nice hymns , to smile and be polite ,
no Barlymagrew as yet I knew Cuthbert Dibble doubt.

To the knoll we walked ,past river stream , and woodland ,
A cross was marked in some rock along the way ,
Is this where Jesus died , was crucified  , hung up on a tree ?

The book I read on mothers stairs  this man in comic strip ,
When i was 10 years old ,
The same man who died for me  torchered on a tree .
Would it be tie a yellow ribbon , or the ****** red Barron from Germany ?

We used to pray in Chennestone  hands up all to see
a peek to see who's looking
We  listened to Griegs Morning , and sung  there's  no discouragement to be a Pilgrim .

Then one day God came calling on the Isle of Wight.
On  Covie camp on blended knee i opened my heart to thee .
Oh the lion may roar from time to time ,
Gods grace is still enough for me

All things considered
I can honestly say
That my existance
That is still on going
Is not to be taken for granted

I sat in the bus
As I slowly realised
What the odds were high
That I might no longer be here
That there would be
A gravestone with
My name on it

Not for the things I did to myself
But for the things that were done to me
Despite always fighting back.
I never gave up on myself
On my body
I finally saw my escape route
And took it

All things considered
It's a miracle
That I can gaze
Upon my resume
And say that for my age
I've done exceptionally well
For someone who
Has trouble planning
For future

All things considered
It's a miracle
I still enjoy the touch
Of a man's hands
And that through
A mischevious smile
I can say
"I drive a stick"

All things considered
My heart is exceptionally full
Exceptionally whole
And exceptionally loving
And even though my mind
Sometimes throws in
The towel and pulls the plug
It's exceptionally strong

Some would say
I grew stronger
And they surely must have
But the way I see it
I would rather say
abscence of Divine Presence is impossible

For all the times
I took refuge in Light
As the dark swallowed me whole
And for all the times
My suffering was removed
By a single prayer
Or a short meditation...

We're not lucky
We're blessed.

there was a tabby cat as ginger as can be
he was very cheeky a mischevious chap was he
chasing after birds  gave him such a thrill
always on the move never ever still.

roaming all around each and everywhere
roaming wild and free life without a care
oneday on his travels he saw a wheely bin
lifted up the  lid and took a quick peek in.

there he saw a kitten he began to cry
trying to get out but bin was far to high
cat he hung his tail in to pull the kitten free
i will set you free he  said just hang on to me

cat he pulled him out he was free at last
he was very lucky that cat was walking past
cat he was so happy setting kitten free
now there friends forever and will always be

It was awkward and grim
Together i felt alone siting with him
We watched a movie tonight
No we didnt fight
It was something previous
Together we got mischevious
We played around
No we werent found
It was then we lay
Together we began to play
We were stupid and wrong
No it didnt last long
It would've been the end
Together we wouldnt be a friend
We came close to the brink
No i dont know what he think
It would be nice
Together we awkwardly eat rice
We dont talk about it
No we dont want to admit
It would be weird
Together its both feared
We will never know
No i wont ever go that low
It would be nice though
Together we would go to and frow
We could live together
Know that id make it forever

Initially I never liked her because she was mischevious in her own ways, ready to unravel the secrets that she knew about, so I thought it was better if I maintained some distance from her because my secrets didn't feel safe around her. As I grew a little older and I got to know her a little better I understood that my secrets were always safe, embedded  deep inside the ocean of her heart. We spent some time together and got to know that I can never dance better on any other tune except hers. Riding the bicycle together and calling for each other before we lost control, laughing when one of us fell down. Being there whenever I cried a river, making me see the brighter side by clearing my blurry vision. A part of me is in her and a part of her is now a part of me. I spend most of my time with her and she's aware of everything I do. I know that I annoy her and I also know that no matter how much I get on her nerves she's always going to welcome me with open arms. We hardly have a picture of us together because she hates getting clicked so I have learnt to collect all the moments in the camera memories  that's in my head and  play it whenever I talk to my lover at night. There is no one who can love me better not even my lover. After all a sisters love is unconditional and better than all the other definition of "love".