Where We Cross
Swords No Longer
Id climb her
ribcage,
if shed only let
me.
From the bottom
to the top.
In and out
of nostalgia
to a deeper
understanding.
Where we
cross swords no
longer.
Distracting
Tangle
They are in the shadows
waiting
just up
ahead
and all the way through
life.
Often times,
you wont even see
the knives
glistening.
(They mostly stab from
behind!)
The faces
change
but the patterns &
games
remain the
same.
Dont argue with
those vermin,
youll just be
giving them
what they want
a
chance
to halt your progress
through the day
and take that spring
out of your step.
You owe no one an
explanation
for just being
you.
The ugliest thing
upon this beautiful
planet
is an envious
person.
Avoid them like the
plague
and leave them tamping
by the wayside.
Besides, you only argue
& disagree
with people you love,
respect & care about.
The rest are
unimportant, vampires
and distracting tangles
to be danced around.
She
Blushes
Marshmallow pink and
Turkish Delight purple,
a slight stammer
thats not quite a full-flight stutter.
Trembles rather than
shakes, looks downwards often
and is extremely
excitable yet thoughtful with it.
A soft, gentle charm
which captivates,
with a smile that is
innocent, mischievous
and adorable all at the
very same time.
The centre of
attention, always
even though she prefers
watching from the side-lines.
Unless she has given
you her wonderful, complicated heart
then her July-warm
personality springs itself open
just like a
Stage-Magicians bouquet of colourful flowers.
Desires
Hanging From The Corner Hook
A-Begging & A-Pleading
as I watch
obliquely interested.
Thats not exactly
mucus
but, it will fit the
bill, at a push.
Its the
Sighs
which grant a levelling
hand
the tempers
merely
mirror-bouncing
bound
and caught up
within
the rush of its own
circle.
Ah, the last step which
isnt really there
again, and again
and again.
Mercys reserved
for the most special occasions
and this is certainly
not one of those.
Ouch, with the flailing
elbows, already,
youll do yourself
a mischief.
Enveloped in
shuddering,
the Doormans on
his fag-break,
where the lights still
flutter,
far out of
ear-shot.
Capture is a Beginning
not an End
the only thing
backwards
here is your
thinking.
Orchestrating
tremors
with a dastardly
smile.
Theres a SONIC
BOOM
in the mind at the
point of death,
Ive felt it
buckle, ripple
and disperse a green
coloured energy
non-toxic and
cloudless
But, I digress
let us go back to Questions
which are really
Insults,
and have absolutely no
need of Answers.
Bring Out Your
Dead
Sweating like a
roasting pig
within his heavy wax
overcoat.
He staggers towards and
then out of
the front door of the
old, squalid
ramshackle of diseased
apartments.
With a piece of dirty
white chalk
his X condemns the
entire building.
Through the glass eyes
of the plague mask
he surveys the shit and
mud churned
street laying stinking
before him
seeing with
satisfaction only 3 houses left.
Breathing in deeply the
ambergris, myrrh,
laudanum, cloves,
balm-mint leaves,
camphor, rose petals
and storax
through straw packed
tightly into the beak
of his mask for a
second or so.
He then staggers
onwards wearily
as the creaking wooden
cart trudges
on half a back lane
behind him
with the scruffy street
urchin before it
crying hoarsely
Bring out your dead!
Crazy Like Emotion
(The Poem)
There is a long,
narrow, darkened tunnel,
straight as a vengeful,
bitter arrow,
which helps to keep the
piercing shrieks
contained within a
small radius
of each
inmate/half-lifes
damp, nocturnal
dwelling place.
The building
materials
are giant granite wall
blocks of absolute despair,
rancid crone-hair
mattresses
and iron bars forged in
the raging hellfires
of her arrogant,
twisted fucking laugh.
There are no
Meals to speak of,
no one eats when they
reach That state.
The Temper-Tantrums
help keep
the rot and fungi from
inching too close
so our advice would be,
to let loose
and give it everything
that youve got.
Your Cell is ready and
prepared with
nothing!
but plenty of room to
go frustratingly Nuts in.
This is the Centre Ward
within an Asylum,
inside a Category A
Prison Fortress,
deep in the Bowels of
your Mind.
You should have been
more careful with your Heart,
its the
Achilles Heel of your emotions.
How many more beatings
and hard labour sentences
will it take you
to leave the naivety
of those Valentine Day
fantasies and delusions behind?