look at my palm and see hell in tarnation

pinch, slap and bite away at the dry skin

gone astray, numb and torn into pieces that pretend to mend

the fear behind the smile in your face

how to reawaken the warrior buried under the fairytale

the charm has been dispelled by the brutal reality of the mess

we pretend to just ignore as if Time would stand down on the aftermath

of the miscalculation, immense, fruitful and worthy

getting over the ledge and trying again.

mimic you mocker of the link regional to the wound

doctors say it costs little to hold faith

options limited when the hounds ate grandma

do gravediggers ever tire of separating dirt to make space

does the blade now dull, rusty and discarded find solace

in the crystal water of the lake, refuge at the bottom

whatever boomerang effect trials my patience beyond the path of reason

I command thy seize momentum and catapult yourself beyond the walls of treason

and leave me be.

surely even gods grow tired of toppled empires and twisted tongues

bifurced badly and uneven, enerving all to see

blacken tongue, tv static. effortless desire to be anything other than human

disfigures the happy faces

waving back, at me

through a cracked screen

they are so thoughtful

on a loop repeating a speech

of parasocial brew

a deadly cocktail, attire and regal format

blade in the ribs; poison for dessert

no farewells or goodbyes for everyone dies

in the end. in this perfect story no ones worth it

seemingly summoned into being

a foot on a landmine afraid of running into paradise

I dreamt of Buddha buried in white crystal sand

the gravitas a spear through the reset of misty rain in a sad day

a walk by the park in source for reasons

to contemplate what power contained in breathing

can produce the euphoria born in Eden

the bitterness of salt awash this island

has us preserved in volcanic tomb

Julian the whale a titanic watchtower, both guardian and villain

demon and angel for his belly contains sustenance and grave

never truly an empty space for refuse

nor salvation for the drown rejoin the cycle

anew, hard to realize the release is not found in a crux

but a coffin instead, name engraved my heartbreak.

cemented the design meant to unfold

swallowing whole the specie that aware

thought itself special and unique

a flawed logic self-imploding from inside

an avalanche of tremendous conseguence

alas, in the spectral of the aftermath the individual

does not matter but should we split the atom

we will all die

as babies we shan't strive

nor survive without a nurturing kind guidance

a blessing now forgone, out of reach

I never understood why I felt inapt

felt broken and less than human

I now remember I went into hiding 

and gone back to sleep.

do without ice-tea

recess avent healing minds eyes set on fire

atop the empire a pyre of wires and desires

feline presence, holy mirror of mine bestow wisdom of old

upon the youth of yesteryear, those meek lost lamp and sheep alike

I pray I figure out where did I go wrong in places I walked by, far and away

in the lessons we exchanged, gave away and simply displaced: momentarily.

like fleeting summer scalds, unlearnt scars to bear in strives of passion

skinship of friendship a sail that dependent of wind and matching

what exactly, I could not trace the relevance and yet

undoubtly a duel of might, wills and corny jokes

has occured and faced due judgement in the arena

rocking up to the joint waiting for that something something

to whisk our spirits and take our breath, surprised it hasn't happened yet

maybe I forget. 

elated, elastic, unmotivated occupier of this space, don't watch closely it dulls the mind.

a complete waste of time.

________________________________notquitehalf__________________________________________

a chanced talk trapped in a call mid queue to buy something I did not really want

but nevertheless could not breakaway from the day, a mistake

turnover the wardrobe, knock it over all the same

by inaction, attentive devotion to a reluctant

war against oneself. loud and messy, twitching

a pending appointment, a misterious pain

glassdoors offer no privacy nor security

flesh pressed on connections, against fragments alive and bright

awake, flying, lodged deep, slicing and floating atop clouds and dreams

in dilligence they work whose sleepy cranky head, should we

follow. I volunteer to reimagine the wires connecting the chain reaction. 

shapeless, within, as they should for they belong here.

what I conjure as my realm

of wanted confort, normality and peace, it takes a while

not as long as to take, in, the sights, endless as they are pretty

wide as they are grand these roads suspended and free.

requests cutting deeper, heavier

are perceived threats to my enemies

a crystal clear blow out

forest of silent hunters on the prowl, beware do take care

(shared) co-existance a living hell of sorts round these parts

trail a scent of 'over 'nothings' a tell tale of fundamentally disagreeing

a thing of the heart I 'sppose

crime tomb of mine, of speedy stories that serve as time gauge, metrics and odd devices

prison to hold a secret, atop of my tongue and its an intoxicating feeling

freedom joined to the rotten crawling on the walls

loss tearing at the flesh never doing it on my own

a speedy overtake with family and friends, no less!

words alone cannot contain this lukewarm room mood

a worm infesting the ear canal

neutral unequal, bored and pressing

the strangle hold of waiting for the something else

the good change on a coin flip

                                                                    the usurpor of a bonbon

by a depressed, suicidal

housewife

locked by choice

on a lovely villa

ample garden

laughing, annoyingly energetic

children assault her senses

on the daily

some her own, by the way

sipping on a bottle

a call to the infancy

in need of nurture

red wine and expensive

bon-bons

chocolate, delicate liquor infused

chocolate.

a phantom whose gown

barely contain the lament

and feminine form

trapped, drapped and neglected

openely kind, in need of a shoulder to cry on

I slashed by childlike knee open, go go fast

or so I recall, and do hard as I try

I wish I knew better in the joys

of my childhood if,

a friend's mother and a dear crush

gone at 43

why in this page, and why now

what fragments got chopped

and otherwise embelished

or flowery regarded as a cover-up

for stories are shared

 never ours.

there is a painting above my head, below the ceiling. it is very dear to me.

what if all we were meant to be has gone to waste

would have that been a betrayal or sorts

the path of resignation swarming my brain

oh woes the garden has gone to waste

anger has bled the forest dry and the rye

the grain, seed and food of the very despair

feeding my death of peace of mind, deeply dissatisfied

not good enough and I am to blame

the nails do not cut it, anymore

they do not pierce the 

itch sustained, the avalanche at odds with my throat

stuck.

waves of heat play fiddle with my body

car headlights flashing, it is not a valentine ballet

methodical gestures. shades betray my vision

test my resolutions and mortal attachments

in equal realizations of calling for

satisfaction.

too many secrets

I forgot to keep track of which end is that way

or the getaway

locked in this place doomed to be

the humble ground embracing us

feeding the cycle anew

from atop the peaks the weight crumbles

closer to the Good, The Light and the Love

fuller from companionship of ghosts

of this I have little doubt

in this painting, above my head

below the ceiling in this box

a sailor sets out to sea

as the sunset bridges the currents and calls it quits

perhaps one day his anchor will find a use still

I pray it will be better that way. 

slow on the figuring it out phase

a phrase to inspire, a dead given riot

alarming motivating a whipping is

a bloody mess that soups up by the spoon

a bowl to covet the driving seat

the throne of kings and queens,

a mercy those beneath despair for

down below underground screams

go unheard and forgotten

lost souls to the pyre

dark clouds absorb my guiding light

hard to tell off trees from walls

in this modern existance of spectrums

the countdown to the end of despair is nay or so

the carrot strings me along, in promise and hope

a betrayal of sorts this existance of possibilities

as if owed anything discountent seeps on me skin

my bones, my mind, my soul.

in shambles and hurt

acting out of bounds, for duty binds us to the path

forcefully, do the right thing

expecting others to follow suit in lament

gift us all that we need despite it colapsing the house

we built slowly, manually, in past times of hipnotizing glares

the lent is twisted, feels like the jade has grown dull

to the experienced eye.

to rebuild anew takes a sense of wonder

astray my stars aline in wander instead. 

a wicked thing this

there, a last resort

an exchange of glares, held poorly

hand over the other, mismatch

in tone, shape, colour

as sweat invades the soleem dryness

of skin and awkwardness second to that one

within

ribbons and empty nests

the mating call has seized the essence

of being out of time.

 

I recall being made by fever, a glaring siren

and being full of shit.

needle in the bum, kicked a nurse in the chin and swore to do it again

my childhood is full of spurts of blurs and sirens

a dragged fairytale gone astray, cigarette and whole before anyone relevant took notice

from the sea of stars we step atop the cars the future heads at speed

no stops, no trades, no firsts only last calls and bottoms up your turn.

 

you know you are boring when every song tastes like the last

because they are the only and same

constant nagging voice in the mirror

only you have no mirror the room is dark and you jumped off the window

an encased, lodged really, glass atop the nose caters to the window like a pendulum

blood drifts, filling the space

if I am born but am not told where to go

where should I dive towards in this imperfection ocean of souls. 

the duality of knowing how unwell ecstasy may crumble

remnants of perception interjected inference that the Moon lays not still

but distance irregardless of the evil eye cast away without need for a sacrifice

may the virgins live another day.

a bonfire is a entanglement cut loose

loath consumed experience partakes of a dislocated jaw

pull my finger, sliced it off the bone

remove my eyes glued tight,

chanced acid interactions with the holy book

my word is no good.

but the way I tremble, giggle and stare

got gotten by a hook, open veins

overdosed on ether

all gone in empty seconds, all good.

a flood cannot be contained by the sand, alone

nor mere taunts from an umbrella a true tried test

the rage of the rising tide a chokehold.

putrid, beyond reparations

no console in broken walls

mold steals health, token purpose, put it to sleep

predictable sadness is just as dense

as the certainty of dust to settle

from compression do precious diamonds originate

but so do bread crumbs and bruises.

in a friend we rebuild a better memory as

a shoulder steadfast holds the tide,

allow the flood to run its due course

far more travelled roads have caused more experienced better men

to go amiss 

little use is what I learn, give, distribute and facilitate

at wonderfall, wonderlust, no wonder eh.  

play therapy friend

is a wonderful thing indeed

(if we are born able to swim

how can I drown

least I forget and pretend to be

indifferent and make a mess(y)

adults hate it (in truth it isn't worthy to recall atributes that may find no use)

ignite the phosphorus to ignite the torch, the symbol of finding the answer.

solely the earthlinked gods are violence (nor)* do they grow less greedy, gressy and petty in man bled Eden.