there is no life here- no intricacy- nor artistry- only wandering empty hours binding to afterlife- where I sway with death- dance beneath the abyss and rendered into end-
♦ From my book ‘Nothing But The Rain’ ♦ You drew a picture Of me today, Surrounded by The words I tend, With no surprise, Each of them Led back to you, Your lines, shading And hue accentuate The idioms, lexis And expressions Of me, You make I, Infinite, ongoing, Tracing the circle of illustrated... Continue Reading →
I am valiant to the dreams of my being. Drunk on vulnerability that keep me grounded, yet play back and forth within shifting skies. I am valiant, Ethnarch of my own existence. But does that evince the shroud of misanthropy? Or leave me craving more than reality...
Your lies, a crypt, and now love is grave where I forgo our barrow with egregious mistake. Temper sent to reminisce, of all those days we danced- and I never grasped your verse in mourn- in death we call to each other: "Name me forgotten, tryst to night. I was never yours at all."
All my words meant nothing, yet his whispers echo them and you run...
I want to write such lonely words That break your heart a thousand times, To arouse each hungry depth of emotion Stolen from attended places by your lips, Did you ever see me as more than a blank page? Parallels denied by our ink and scripture Through affections singular premonition, A wall of silence stands... Continue Reading →
I lost my fear of death when I was in your eyes, rapture and reconciliation mirrored in protest, carnal in the still life of transmuted lines. I was born too late to see the sensibility of poppies. Only losing the aftermath in resisted, beautiful times. You asked me for my story, so I gave you... Continue Reading →
(A short story - Maybe it's pointless, maybe not. This is all there is though. Just a snippet of a life.) We need to talk, I’m by the lake. Scribbled in her neat little handwriting that was so small he had to squint to read it. Nothing else was written on either side of the... Continue Reading →
Intricate melody bore sanctity and treason- listless shivers- fractured prisms- schism lovers and drama's father- to be that centrepiece- flickering by candle light her sweet cacophony lost its human constancy- enveloped within our predetermined pornography- we borrowed each letter owed- c’est cela l’amour- tout donner- tout sacrifier sans espoir de retour- ... Continue Reading →