and i told her to waitand i told her to wait one hour and a day, but she was too impatient.
instead, she stayed for a year and a week
and wept bitterly at her crying shoes.
i said, 'dont cry for your feet,
they only follow your voice
and you make the choice to lead them astray'
she bit cheeks of an apple, and left me the core
i told her no more and she took back hello
ate up all my heart, drank all my love juice. spat all the pips out. the whore.
she dallied past non sequiturs and fell victim to gullibility,
her paranoia blinding her light. she couldnt see, couldnt hear, nor realise
what was so blatantly latent.
i asked her what it meant to let the sky
-truth-will you meet me in the spaces-truth-6 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
between our fingers
indivisible, but one
(and all the smaller pieces
that don't matter)
a hollow note
twenty minutes to dawn
(i know this because we've been here before)
in this moment, and this thing of arms and arms entwined, called embrace
this moment on soft notsosoft ground sheets
it's the same
and in this moment
this moment is again
and your voices
singing as the past
ceilings and walls
that do not house me
anymore, i hear you
to see it fall, forgetsworse than the leavesto see it fall, forgets6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
(and it isn't even blowing
cold across your shoulders)
there is no wind,
and you fall
like the tree --
(but not so)
i am the only
one to hear you
crumple, see you
Give up on that emptyIt is with your visible formsGive up on that empty6 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
and deep laments; carrying you
across tempests of metaphor.
A million ways to say
the same heart ache made
But we are left with our
alones, our darkened skies
of misplaced whys. Fists
beating upon a simile
drenched with synonyms
for heart hurt.
Are we here to commiserate?
To begin again a dance
whose music stopped
before the curtsy thanks.
And even if this waltz is
burdened by cliche
shared by many with only
differentials; variables of
the same theme and same
outcome: I again will
pretend that no one has
ever kissed like this.
never whenIt's in the way the afternoons play catch and kiss with your toesnever when6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
burying themselves in your back pocket with train tickets
and things to make your breath taste like mint
a tradition of recall
and replay and remember
There weren't any birds, that I recall, the day I loved you.
And to replay the eradication of a breath within a breath I suppose I forget
willingly, just to remember
Of course the chatter of the crowds diminish when fine-tuned focus is called upon
straining skin in anticipation of connecting warmths.
Luminosity kept; shining stars between our fingers when you held my hand
Tightly boundtightly boundTightly bound6 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
round the edges
round the edges
[I am not your butterfly
I am not your rose
I'm not yours]
around from centre
surrounded and adored
wound up in safeties
don't fight the changes
round the edges
there are cracks
small, small inlets of light
your tears make finery
a blanket for your
long last sleep
we shall see...
round the edges
Be careful not to wake you
don't disturb sign placed
This is no cocoon
This is no chrysalis
worry, i'lli cannot be sated on your terms of meaning.worry, i'll6 years ago in Typographical More Like This
with your will and will not
pilgrims tied themselves to untouchable opalescense
with your word
oh, your word
wondering about cherry blossoms falling like snow, playing catch and kiss and spot the burning eyes through the leaves
I'm speeding through suburbia. Lights wink on and off [through the darkened trees] like the eyes of a drunken hooker disinterested with the taste of cock.
Speeding fast through bushes.
This lamb, this host.
what was anything symbolised to me as
I'm getting stuck on those nevers
and if i could see the terror straining at your lips
if i could feel your heart just a
what they say about dying men i think it would be nice if you puked on me.what they say about dying men5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i mean it. i don't care about smells. if i had the option i probably would've let my nose go a long time ago, cut loose and let it fly off, bloody and attached with fleshy noodle string. (probably that time when i was eleven and in love with my second-cousin and my feet smelled and he was breathing down my neck and it would've probably just been better if i hadn't known that my feet smelled and could've only felt his stomached, washed and beautiful breath.)
And if II will go gently through the mirror words and find my solace in your silenceAnd if I6 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
I will masquerade in the dark and fall apart in their glare
If you should think, I fear your melancholy, you would be right to know
I cannot pick apart forgotten sentences
And if I were a child, I would be yours
I will go gently through the scrap heap and treasure lost boxcars of hope
I will dwindle on the scatterings and relive each tired moment
If you should think, I fear my future past finds, you would be right to know
I cannot change time
And if I werent a child, I would be yours
Who needs hope?My blinds are closed.Who needs hope?6 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
I can feel the lickings of warmth on my shutters, and I let the music take me; two plugs to stopper up their drainings. I tune the radio to a better frequency of gone.
The traffic mutes to silent film; black and white would be if my eyes were open. But Im falling into chasms of hemidemisemiquavers and they have me.
I can feel my tracing paper lips rumple into a carbon paper smile. And I dont care if everyone else has smiled before. I havent smiled for so long.
This vista; I open my eyes to these crushed pearl clouds painted achingly onto a too perfect to be real sky. The sun commands its presence w
do you ?whose person did i become?do you ?6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
(i struggle to shut out all the things that i wasnt saying)
i dream incessantly
and stare far too much at the sky
(can you tell me what it says about me?)
I'm quiet when I break. And no, you wouldn't know, I could be smiling, and no, you wouldn't know. I could be laughing at your jokes and your surface weather pleasantries, and I could be breaking, and no, you wouldn't know.
There is stonework I traced, and never memorised completely, cracks I didn't step on and fingers interlaced, conversations I recall pieces of, like pieces of stri
and pour ever in lightand if i decide to wasteand pour ever in light5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
this - this waste that has been
wasting me - know that it is because
wasting this waste makes me feel
a little better
all of those things
that i have wasted
prior, and this waste of
space that i
the light has two switches
to turn on and off
and when the kettle tells me i have to
pour i think of that woman
in my youth that said to close the
light, and i always used to laugh
and now i think it is even
that i feel my light
(it too switches
when i pour) closing
i need something brighter than
what my feet can muster, a way to spread
the shreddings of
ends with one. And IIts November again and I feel as if the bracken on the trees has changed so much. And yet, I would not knowI am so far away from that placein not only years.ends with one. And I6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
I believe you look the same. Of course I cant be sure, but real-time details dont change my mental image of you. So I say it. So I believe it. You would rather me believe youve changed for the better, but I know better could only be the same as you were.
But I have changed, of course. And of course it is only ever one-sided this we would agree on. You try to tickle out the nuances you remember that I do not, but I didnt tell you I learnt
but means, unknowing whenand she has cheeks like bobbing apples;but means, unknowing when5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
if you placed her in a bath you would want
to practise a game you never played
as a kid
but you're still a kid, you
don't quite know what
to say to her, to make
yes, she knows this, and it
makes her laugh like a dinosaur
doesn't laugh, if you even knew
what it sounded like - so maybe
that is just a lie.
but she laughs, and she laughs at
the little way you try to hide
how your eyes are unsure of
what they're saying, and she looks
and she says do you have a
translation service for those blues?
but you never know quite what she
means, and you let the shiver of
unknowing fall o
two imperfect machinesI tell you love is not an accidenttwo imperfect machines6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
That (convinced) can ever be
to prior states (untouched)
Gentle ribbons and plastic
disrupted from perfect
unknowns; give me imperfectperfects
anyday, and give me plastic
bones (that crack synthetic
sentiment). Give me vacuum sealed
flesh, juices contained
with intent (I can tell you
how to read into devices). Do you
say your machines move with grace?
I tell you, any other day (is
today. And imperfect
taste is never impartial
on my tongue. I long
for the test tube warped
sweetness years relax alongmylips. And we,
two imperfect machine
Let's Play a Game...Let's play a game.Let's Play a Game...5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
One we haven't played before.
I will tell secrets
And everything you want to hear.
I love you,
I need you,
I hold you dear,
I want you to be by my side
and not one word will be a lie.
Could we go back?
To our lovely house on the hill?
Could we defy time?
And get stuck in our tea party once again
Could we ignore all the pain?
I think we're used to it by now.
So what do you say....
Do you wan
MemoriesRemember....Memories5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Everything that we used to do,
All the love we shared,
How we lived,
(over the most rediculous things)
The times may have passed,
But the memories,
Those will never fade.
I will never forget
How we used to be.
And there will
Never be a day
That the memories don't haunt me,
LoveThe blind man, cannot seeLove6 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
what the deaf men, does not hear
the hesitant man, loses
what the rich man, cannot buy
you may never find what your looking for
or ever get back what you lost
we all find ourselves
lost in the state of being
ThoughtIf I were not myself, but something moreThought6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Would thoughts still be mere impulses
Or could I hold them?
Could thoughts be solid things to pick up
On sunday afternoons
And shelter us from cold?
If my thoughts became sculptures
Would they be beautiful
Or both in the way that photographs of death
Still draw our eye?
If thoughts became foundations
Would they form a pyramid
Or a tower
Could you make love to an idea?
Drown it in sweet red wine
And then let caress it, marry it
Divorce it when it gets dull and you are beautiful...
Oh you my love,
Are you real or circumstantial,
lend me your quilllend me your quilllend me your quill6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
so i may write a word
so i may find salvation at the bottom of an ink well
so i may find freedom at the tip of a feather
so i may live as the story dried upon the parchment
lend me your quill
and i will impart you a tale
and i will paint you a world
and i will create you a fantasy
and i will free my demons
lend me your quill
so i may write a word
and escape into blissful oblivion
lend me your quill
so i may write a story
and leave you gasping at it's words.
stodgy treeThe stodgy treestodgy tree6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
With broken limbs and stunted growth
Can flower still in spring.
The winters winds cannot kill this beast
Of rotten bark and protruding twisted root.
For stodgy tree,
So odd and knotted
And naked without its leaves,
Will live beneath the biting ice
It's made of tougher stuff.
Society Haikua mind of iron,Society Haiku6 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
a soul smuthered into ash,
hearts of silicon.
Love letter to my valentine -Yes this is it the one that I wanted to spend my life with, until death do us part. Yeah right! We moved on I loved others, but none were the same, nothing, no one felt like us, what we had. Did you feel the same way? Do you still? There were other's, there always were. But when we touched there wasn't that jolt, that energy, that excitement. Maybe I'm sentimental maybe we all grow over attached to our possessions. Did I ever posses you?Love letter to my valentine -6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
This chapter makes no senseWhen you look me in the eyes do you see the one you love or the one you want to love. The mind wants what the body had. Do u love me because u know what I can fuck, do you fuck me because u know that Im in love?This chapter makes no sense6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Virginity is like you crave the physical attraction sitting on your lap touching your stomach caressing your skin. Experience is passion. Experience with love because when you love the one your fucking its so much more [enjoyable]. Experience is god it is what we strive for in life. In experience or love its no longer remains to be the sitting on of the lap or caressing your skin that gets you going its the feelings