I must learn to create, I have to sing for her not at her. Or perhaps both.

Ok have to avoid blogging for a bit to rest and I can't sleep.

The old man sits on a bench facing the sea. He dreams of the love of his life sitting beside him gently holding his hand as they grow old together whispering in each others ears.

You can almost see her, even though it's only an old man's imaginings of a future that never was.

He walks back to his single room flat, closes the door and starts dancing to a tune nobody else can hear.

His eyes closed remembering how it felt to feel their skin collide gently through their clothes the silhouettes dancing around them, just that moment itself.

She's the love of his life. She's burnt into him.

They're going to force him to take pills that take her away.

I remember us dancing...

I know when I'm old and senile and locked
away in the loony bin for good I'll be dancing
with the most beautiful girl in the world.

No-one else can see her.

I've been choking back screams for I don't know how many days

And holding them in for I don't know how many years

His mind burned away as he lay on the bed.
The unforgivable things he'd done slamming so
rapidly he couldn't comprehend them tearing
away at everything that made him him.

And he was gone.


I'm here somehow.

I used to stalk you once every year at Christmas
just to make sure you were still alive.

Please be alive, please be alive.

I couldn't face you after what I had done.

I went bugfuck crazy. I wasn't me anymore
I didn't exist.

I'm sorry for everything.

I put you through hell.

Just, please be alive.

I'm sorry I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

Please be alive.

Oh god I don't care if you hate me

Please be alive

No demons tonight, not even beside
Myself, myself alone
There is a sharp point
To living, and I count
Those dancing angels
I am blasé and suicide
Is sooo passé
But I swear
If there were Euthanasia booths?
I'd be in one right now.

Sliming, slithering, sluggish and slow
The Shadow crawls slinking, but nobody knows
When light turns to shadow, and shadow to fire
The slugs silver trail, becomes acid and bile...

Gods become men and burn funeral pyres
Ashes and embers still smoking like tires

Random Fragments

I have no mouth, but I can sing.
I have no form, but I have wings...
What am I?


Brothers and Sisters, Golden Braids we are...
Twisting together, Twisting apart.
Nothing without us, We follow our hearts.


Blood and Breathe, Life and Death,
Good and Gold. My dying Faith...
Do you See, the Lying case,
Use used abused Love wroth written Wraith...
So Real, so fake.
Still I see through, this smoke so Opaque.
The Wolf's cunning winter, brings home the Stake.


A rose clenched upraised, a flowing stream.
Constant change, the stigmata drips on down the arm.
In hoc signo vinces, but to stop and smell the rose...
Serenity


Logos and Daimon, singing in harmony.
Demiurge contained by, restrained loving Wisdom.
Compassion is learnt, love through understanding.
Empathic by Nature, Tortured by Desire.
Words we cannot Understand submit their truth by,
Stature.


It is said that you campaign in poetry, and govern in prose,
but all great prose is poetry...
So therefore, I suggest to you;
Govern your life as poetry in motion.