I always flush the toilet
Before I use it.
An old habit
From years of finding the ****** bit
Before I ever got a chance
To feel relief.

Please, pardon my prayer,
Leaking from lips like grease from hair,
May Apollo ride along,
May muses fill me with song,
May Zeus strike me with the creative spark,
May Cupid strike my heart,
Till my shin, legs and shredded head
Lie in decomposing composition,
Yet let my tongue live longest
To taste that inspiration.

There was one,
Infinite and singular.
Who split in two.
One was the mother.
One was the son.
One was the father
One was the daughter too.
One pulls strings from the null
And played a tune
So one would sleep,
Dreaming of the song,
Of stars across the dark sky,
And a thousand sparkling eye
To see them through.

Yes antique ones,
My future lies in the dust
Among the lazy and the dead.
Upon the ink pegasus
I careened across the sky,
Streams followed,
Old God's intervened,
With my rebellion, fed to old dogs,
Incapable of new tricks.

Grey is the ash.
Green is the blood.
Gilded is each dusk.
Grey is each speck of dust.

The sons of Ragnarok
Chase the moon, race after the sun,
The stones and rocks,
Tradition and a foreign notion,
Chase me around the fire
Chanting "Don't throw away your future."
And "It doesn't matter."
Simultaneously.

Grey is the horizon.
Growing is the shadow.
Shrinking is the sun,
Under the apathetic flow
Of raindrops evaporated
From dry eyes.
Grey is the day.
Grey is the gay flag
From grey eyes.

How easy it would be to dive deep.
How easy it would be to sleep.
How easy it would be to dive in shallow water.
Chanting "Don't throw away your future."
And "It doesn't matter."
Simultaneously.

At the source of these cancerous
Grey twirls that unfurl
There is a golden

But
I was not born for this.
I was not born to die, nor born to cry,
Although each black dot has its sentence
And each dawn it's dusk.
I was born the golden Prince
Of life, of my mistakes, of my victories.
So bring me my inheritance,
With all the weight and all the golden glories.

I saw a silver dime.
She reflected my face.
She echoed my voice.
She said something sensitive.
Her every word's set in steel.

Shrapnel pillow lying in the gutter,
How about Heads or tails?
I admit, I've heard tales
Proposing you're a risk.
Both in your bed to rest.
And you're the bed for rust
And dust.

Shrunken moonshine lying in the gutter,
If I plucked you up and picked you
Like a poppy from among midnight dew
Aloft flowers, reflecting your much bolder brother.

Silver fascade, if you're devotion fades
If you discard me, if you turn away
So I may only see your tail.
No, you're right, what a rude question.
If I pick you, like flesh from the skeleton
Will you remain?

Dilly dally, dilly dally, the dandelion desintegrations.
These country town thoughts appear just as though
A dolly pulled back and shrunk creation
Till dust dots in morning light. The shadow
Of infinity sharing silence done
Within my mind. String theory confirmed hereby
An avian feathery cosmos made
In colours, shapes and shades, flowing to fly
Gilded and gliding. Powers to persuade
Not existent in words or praise. A phrase
Unable to capture what eyes cascade
Upon me. Despite this, a make believe face
Consumes my will and not for memory
I would recreate, nor an open path,
But simply a fantasy I can see
With glee through my mind. A fancy, wet scarf
I drape on me at dawn and under black.
So do I dream of dreams or girls I lack?
So would valkyries convey me to Avalon?
So would avian visions
Fly me off and away.

Lad with a mouth, loud lauts gotta shout,
But there's nought profound to be found
In the sound spilling out.

A flicker and a flutter of his platter;
A splitter, a splatter,
Spraying splashing spit dispenser.
Twister, tengo, tempo, soft tongue dancer
Doing the worm to wiggle words into form.
Peter changes with an interpreter
After a translators had their way,
If they so choose.
Define a sign to find value
Not in it's use or what it can do.
So build a statue of Zeus
And put a deus into it like glue.
He misses her kisses, finds lips to replace her
Calls them a name they say on an early date.
They say so much.
Read between the lines to find white
And nothing but.

So, today wept on tomorrow's shoulder
Because yesterday couldn't stay longer.

Slowly, the Sun secreted days
That solidified into months.
Recall what the moons says,
That time takes no time off.

Despite that nothing's light like light
It still takes years to reach out eyes
From deep in depths of night
Where stars like to rest before they rise.

Although,
As stars recede, we will cease.
As all stars fade, we pass away.
So before final peace
Finds you
Find a new way
Not trodden yet.
So the future cannot forget.

Sarah breathes with an extra word
One that isn’t said but is heard.
With a voluminous sigh
And eight seas reflecting starshine in her eye.
She wears fox fur raincoats and her french has an accent.
She has cursive articulations
And epistolic perfections,
And to you she’s been sent.
As she break lips, to release her take,
One can’t help but feel enchanted,
With that joke of hers dissolving like smoke.
In fact with every word she ever said,
One can’t help but feel enchanted.
With a quick quip, her tongue cut till men bled
As to make even the smoothest choke.
Yet, one can’t help but feel enchanted,
With that joke of hers dissolving like smoke.
If breaking free’s almost a revolution,
Crawling back to her is its completion.
Crawling even closer, ever closer,
There's a higher symphony in her hair,
Playing with strands and strings
And scents of hyacinths.
So one must care
For you've always heard,
She has an impolite abra cadabra
Yet instead the magic word
Must be Sarah.

"IF I die,"
I replied.

I carry my ukele to the toilet after midnight
So if monsters attack
I can threaten them with a beating
And if they aren't scared by that
I can play it.

A fly dots the paper white wall.
So close to real, he might even fall.
The paint of that splot
All but taking off.

My brother and I
Sit in our uniforms.
A cloud sniffs whiffs of the house,
Shifts and moves on.
My bare feet fricatives
Sound as though a warm afternoon.

Like flesh on bones
My home's covered with smoke.

I smell undwindled fire.
Staring at the window,
Afraid to see further.
Cold is shade and shadow.

Lashes of flame
Collapse the homes
And the cold pains
Seem pale and lame.

This weave of dreams
Unravel in
The fires outside
And the hopes dim
As this rose grows to ****.

I watched the soldier, fallen
Aloft the absorbent green.
When will I be forgotten?
I once said of memories
They are dead things hung on walls
Drawn from imagination.
How will time, after I fall
Withdraw my memorium.

I once thought the past was dead,
Stiff, motionless in the grave.
I now see the past lives yet,
Onward, unchanging to wave
No flags of dull surrender
Whether or not we remember.
It is not that the song is sung of us
But that we have sung
And we let others sing
While we each have a time
To draw ourselves into eternity.

Cupid has missed my heart
And pinned me through my spine
To the wall. My back bone is but shards
And my legs dangle, paralysed.

All because I left open the window
To let the cool change through.
I gave the winged fiend his show
And he has killed me with the view.

The cool change came
And so has the rain.
So have the snakes
And creatures of the blue.
My red mixes and my body’s but food.
My red fades and my bones are but a buoy.
I have let my body want with but eyes and wither
As though I have painted myself red and died of anaemia.

She's a midnight coffee
And although I'll never get to sleep with her
She'll help me with my poetry.
This reminds me of a song, or the uttered
Idea that manifested in fantasies of a non-singer.
The story of a man who finds a trolley
Down in the river.
He decides to pull it from the debris.
For what a strange story it'd be.
So he could have that metaphor
For a speech or some eulogy.
About the trolley that was pulled up
Out of the river.
Because, he'd like to think
Someone would pull him,
Despite that he stinks and sinks and thinks
Too much on stupid stories.
I think I missed the train of thought there,
But here she comes again, so fanatically fair.

She had an Asian face
And I'll remember her that way.

There's the rumble,
As train track lights
Penetrated black night,
By a gutter a flutter of outdoor wind
I saw her walking alone,
Clinging to her bones.
At first, I thought she some vampire.
Then I saw holy water drip from her eyes.
An apparition, shaped like a man
Walked out, under a leafy shroud.
"Come inside?" Sounded out the shout.
"Hurry up!."

There was a short pause,
Between seconds and eternity.
He was already in the crooked house
On a crooked street,
Her silhouette so hesitant.
Then she began her retreat
To that crooked place
I know not within.
To that crooked cave
Or that crooked grave,
I let her pass without a phrase.
There's the rumble
Of another train.

There is, in the bath, not time, but moments
That stretch out with transparent reflections,
So days echo through splashes and silence.
Dreams, memories and conversations
Stream, imaginarily from the tap;
The gushing senses rushing into descent
To dive downwards, down from the gaping gap.
There is, in the bath, not time, but moments.
Fears festering in depths and splashes heard
In this wet pit where memory filthies
Words with worries and shapeless world with words.
Then stand, streaming steam and vapour leaving,
Those thoughts forgotten beyond believing.

My wings are unburdened
But I fly not.

I see no seashore.
Just water, no more.
Swimmers among the shimmers
Murmur about the glimmer
Glittering above a drop.
I know what I'll do.
I'll build a tower of water up high,
Above the waves and weave of turbulence.
A reflection behind my closed eyes
Always flowing to this current moment.

Forget the question. Please, please, please. Don't think.
Build your tower before you sink.
But alas I think. I think and I sink.

Sometimes I stop to be swallowed below,
To fall to forgotten, forever nights.
The deeper you go, the better you know
How dark our sea is and how brief the light.
Both fast past and fleeting future shrivel
Shrink, sink, fuse together with tomorrow.
Shimmers on the sea and this revival
Are but surface echoes, not heard below.
We're just splashing around before the sharks
Slither from bottomless shadows of dark.

Why?
My wings are unburdened
But I sea nowhere to fly
But towards the end.

You gave me my first breath with lips which kissed.
I have seen you since in a fantasy.
Truly I am caught and cannot resist
Eyes that pierced me and showed me beauty.
Do you see I fiercely fight my features?
My fascade that won't betray my intents
Through portrayal of struggle down deeper.
Fights to fend off faces of discontent
You notice in a simmering surface.
Nightly I have not slept, kept up with thoughts
Throughout the darkness. So I must say this,
For better or worse, I am fully forced,
Truly entangled with you and I will never
Replace your lipstick red mark
With shades of surrender.

My skull is empty on set.
A studio light casts shadows
In through windows.
Burning an iris as I pirouoette.

Do I want to play this game?

My thoughts have descended
I dread to confess,
Down to drown my heart
To dwindle stars before they start.

Do I want to play this game?

Blame circumstance.
Dance! Dance! In circles dance.
Cram yourself against every puzzle piece
You like to look at.
Crash with foreign bodies
Then regret, you reckless idiot.

I like to retreat into my head at times,
The background sounds like a breeze of night
Flowing through my brain.
My mind a great open plain
With nothing to worry about at all.
My view, all these shapes, colours and transferals,
Where people and places used to be.
I like to be inside my head
Especially
When there's nothing thought or contemplated.

Spring arrives, tipsy with delight.
Fairies aloft a flower bud lift off.
They tickle nostrils, they sing 'Sweet fragrance…"
With such soft whispers. A soprano cough
During a shuffling swing and low tempo dance,
Escapes lips, foreshadowing wet winter.
They float fairly, as all the flowers fall.
Tremors of terror interrupt chatter
Among them. Above, trees, no matter how tall
Shake as though poppies under thunderstorms.
Then it is calm again. Without winds' arms
Jostling and jarring their world. Cold now warm.
Souls simply resolved. Harm is now disarmed.
The fragrance, so sweet and so fleeting.
So impossibly soft. Some real feeling.

Then a soprano cough.

I seek a sleep so deep the seas seem to shrink
Beside that night, with white, silent, fire to drink,
From dark glasses resembling those trembling hearts,
We sold so long ago, alone in the dark.
The shade of flame and heartache rained like snow tries to.
We seemed to dream, quickly deceived that we'd too
Have these deep histories between you and me.
Sixteen, seventeen and soon we'll see eighteen
Leave. My ages like centuries bereave me,
This lost soul growing old, with no growth to show.
So, I'll seek sleep so deep oceans grow shallow.

It makes you think doesn't it?
Who whistled Christmas lights in their weave?
How have I tasted the drops of sunshine
As though those shadowless snow covered leaves
I once saw in Autumn. Dark is the time
Between those bodies, dancing about splots
Of celestial paint drops of stardust,
So wet with supernovas' heat. A shroud
Kissing the tips of trees. Planet's of rust,
Dazed as they wander and scatter through lint,
Faded through grey from daylight to black smoke.
A raisin. A raven. A soot nothing.
I lay there and fell through a gliding cloak.
The obsidian oblivion bares
In my opinion, blue, blonde hair.
Maybe it's less of a thought
Than a song idea
For a guitar
Without any strings
Or something whispering

I will look out on those mountain crowns of my ancestors.
As I feel the wind's fingertips on my face
And as it leaves, with it's embrace,
I will go with it and I will fade.

I am terrorised for I am my flaws
And I fear I'll never be more.
My mirror melts like words of Eleanor.
My ears bleed, leak by metaphors,
Like an overused *****,
To hear such decor
Of air carved and reformed.
I have, without remorse
Been to words as criminals of war
To the Jews and the poor.
I am mortified that I fear not failure, nor
To be impossibly less nor to be never more.
At least, they can't drain the life from a corpse.

The day is made of light
And sounds create the night.
In the darkness, a text
Blinds with meaning, regrets
Inevitable and
Burning with bright command.
To find your flaws in agony
And your faith for better in sacrilege.
Then a jazz melody
And written in it, God's undeciphered passage.
Our cosmos, but a wrinkle on God's side
And so I bargain myself into pain
Again and again
Over a girl of my third eye
And no more.

When it was dark and decayed
I once crawled to the deepest peak
In my heart of rock and clay.
There was a great black sea
Expanding beyond me.

I had been saving a bundle of fireworks
Ready to set them off with a kiss,
As I was told to by all my unsung teachers.
But finding myself so foreign from bliss
I threw the fireworks to the abyss.

Then far up on the surface
A single finger touch my face.
Then from a spark echoed a thunder bolt
That split my heart in half,
A sheen beam of lightning
To ignite…

A thousand sparks of green, red and gold
Danced like a rainbow
No longer segregated to one flow.
Each streaming particle
Of blue through to purple,
Wobbled like feathers on Angel wings
Settling after flight.

I still had to climb back down the mountain,
I still had to do it myself,
But the way was bright,
And I now knew why I should do it.

The blank black of vacuity stretches East
With white streaks, with flaming meteor showers
To combine the sublime with a burning wreath.
This unbreakable spine, this cosmic flower
With physics' patterns in her form, shade and shape,
The thorns upon the multidimensional strings
Of this vast vessel who observe her own way.
The mass mediocrity of creation thinks
Herself so specifically defined by arbitrations
It can't know how well it knows or if it knows
At all. Construction. Destruction and function
Drawn with chalk on a blackboard, stars on shadows,
Those wisps of moonlight in silver song's pieces.
I only know the lonely God, when I know
This universe's fundamental forces.

That **** Cupid's at it again.
But this time he hasn't gone for my heart.
He aimed at my eyes and went straight through them,
Getting my brain as well. The **** which was smart
Is permanently dumbfounded.
Oh, to be so brain dead.

September is somnolent in northern Autumn.
When it’s forgotten and forgivable
To drink shadows of *** and swallow delirium.
But not forgiven nor forgettable.
When one can’t sleep for a throbbing dream and the hearts heavy drum.
For September is slumberless in northern Autumn.

Smell the collapsing splashes of our sea.
Through the night air hear the rip which whispers “Come...”
Sound out to spell a joke in memory.
To no one say, ‘I lost my way but once…”
For no one to hear but our waning moon.

Now know the lullaby of falling leaves
Slowly shows a song of things in decay.
Silently the scythe, she cleaves and bereaves.
While with things in adequate disarray
The moon forever falling towards us
Who never touches nor brushes the surface
Will drift away.

Cry for that pain.
To drink the shadows of *** and know shallow delirium.
To think that things are and can’t be undone.

You are my bow
That with finest finesse
Fills ears with floating notes
And echoes with vibrations and vibrance.

Yet you are also your own bow
That stretches back
With the stern arrow
And sends me low
With arrow blows
As you straighten to throw
With conviction and vicious intent
And echoes with vibrations.

Incredulous city's lights, and loud sounds
Crescendo and billow to blow my mind
As though those Marco Valdo's mushroom clouds
Pouring, bursting from vehicles' behinds.
Blue light on the chapel's crown,
Do these images cross Christ
As dances on disintegrated bones?
Fool, ask the blue light, "What's right?"
Neon siphon's psyche, soul or sorrow,
What is left like a Hiroshima shadow
On the ***** white wrapping of his corpse?
My views a metaphor's meteor shower,
A star high rubix cube kept from collapse
In a glass skyscraper, flowers
Like perfume in vials labelled colon
Or a thousand shattered, scattered shards
From photos of photon lanterns with golden thrones.
I must embrace shimmering facades,
As if more glimmering mirages
Would water this soul with images.

I think humans are very silly.
I think we gave angels wings,
Then realising we were their only company,
Told them "Run! By God, run for your lives!"
Just to have them turn around and say
"Then why'd you give us wings?"

Take one of those hot days
When it's fun to be mindless,
When thinking's the only way to feel your pain,
So you lose your mind on purpose.

Take a taste of meaning.
Enjoy flying like a limestone,
Stationary until some wise being
Picks you up and your thrown.

Chisel your own name
Into a comments section
For the fame
Of three idiots appreciation.

Take a beer to spare
And spend your life
Dancing, prancing like a mare.
Take some bad advise.

This joker fell through vats of chemical
Desperation, severely misplaced desire
And maybe a drop of a drink. Too cool
Not to be too rapidly set on fire
When I set my eyes on a mujeres.
I hit on a girl at my Spanish class
But we weren't speaking the same languages.
Worst of all I took it way to fast for us.
My corona, my cheap beer is her crown.
My idioms and her idioma
And the spiciest sauce I can take down
Es simplemente su salsa normal,
Although, she doesn't like her meat so white,
I don't really mind not being her type
Because you can't cry over that each time.

Knowing only our words and dancing lips,
But not her thoughts, I pierced black with blunders.
Arrogant to assume our bright abyss
Between was traversed. As vein bells thundered.
Vaunting my vice and confidence as those
Weft waves vaunt of their temporality.
Great velocity bringing long shadows,
Charges, a Rhamesses' dream of history
Set surely towards shores of broken sand.
From an alien surface I see rings,
Like a silver tiara in her strands,
Divide black of night. My mind in foreign
Lands, where lust is lost among moondust streets,
Where I waltz alone. Memory's a wreath.
Sheets of Saturn, of silk upon the heat,
She was a white clothe upon our own teeth.
Flames of her furnace, her firmament crown
Hearth of my heart, I have forever found
To be somewhere between eternity and me.

If you end each day alone, without love,
If your friends have left you nothing but stress,
Look and see the sun no longer above,
See he slowly goes to the west for rest.
Even though darkness will stalk till morning,
He's reborn in a burning, golden dawn.
Breathe in deep before the night and lightning.
Be and become calm. Watch that closing yawn.
A soft view of wind and vapour. Slowly
Afternoon floats and flirts with evening.
But surely turns to be a tapestry.
Fear's woven thoughts forgotten for dwindling
Twilight dances. So daylight's glow diminishes,
As a shadow cast from the West stretches.

My heart's feeling really heavy in bed
So I'll roll over to crush my innards.
Wrecking ball, cardiovascular head
Hurter, damaging organs with its words,
Pressing way too hard when the beats too fast.
I need to ***, but with this ball and veins,
So passionately disturbed by the dark,
I'll stay right here. Guess I'll just risk the stains.
The scary voice in the silence, it says
"You're the weight on your family, useless
As a used ****** to holy preachers."
The voice whispers and slithers and seduces
Me to self-loathing and pity. But I
Don't know whose it is, it sounds just like mine.

There's a haunted door in my house.
I hear it rattle and shake, all throughout.
Maybe there's a human there,
Locked inside and scared.
Maybe that's what's it like to be gay,
In secret, with hands battering at the closet.
Something's licking at the ****.
Something's tongue's a flicker
And even from your bed
You feel it's hunger.

Meanwhile your too scared to even look that way,
Down the hallway.
Convincing yourself that desperate whimper
Was just the wind or a nightmare.

As our chapter ends, the page crescendos,
It's shadow so long as to loom over
And cover us. The last words, no one knows.
Paper between us and sunset. Brothers
Composed of light, wait on the horizon,
Unknown and unseen. The last words unsaid.
Weaves of dreams sweeping over and upon
Us, volts against the current. Yet when red
Signals dusk, it dawns over foreign seas,
Like life in the water or blood in the womb.
This chrysalis, these images, fantasies,
And uncertainty's fierce shade, are no tomb.
Friends' voices dwindle into the distance,
Yet I'll never surrender remembrance.

And my window glows the brightest in my room.
Jumbles of jagged jazz jut in through odd nights
To dredge up the New Year with fireworks
Fine December's lunge upon the kind.
Shattered pieces break wine divinely inwards
In memory and boredom
Of sorbent, drenched days.
Where are you?
What's the time?
Old, sore, bent, quenched greys
In fantasies that brought fun.
Scattered leeches ******* insidely innards
I remember once upon a time.
Two dead husks end blue ears with wire ferns
Crumbled into dead glass, cut sinews of time.
Despite shadows, show the finest of my gloom
And my window glows the brightest in my room.
Humbled are the dead God's, shut off to old rites
Few with enough truth to hear conspired words.
Humbled are the dead God's, shut off to old rites

Wine and ember's pop up in this mind
Flatters her thesis. Asks for pieces
With crumbling questions
For a crumbling response

So I know
Canines inspire sheep in herds
To let them flee, a poor one
So sore, went the wrong way.
Where are you?

Even at eighty three and eighty four,
They still hold hands, walk with conversations,
Or simply sit the way they always did before.
They're content with silence, their objections
Only that they have to go home for tea.
Walkers by, hear them bicker and banter,
Memories spilling from mouths happily.
They like the cafes and polite chatter.
But they love the park, the trees and brown bark.
But this pretense of present tense is wrong.
Even at eighty five, she still goes out.
Every day, she is glad to walk along.
Her memories are fainter now
The smell of hot coffee in the Summer
And someone's soft words to warm the Winters.

Two men stand where a glade meets a clearing.
They hold their guns strong in the evening,
Shaking shoulders attached to their stern arms.
They pull triggers to **** and cull the calm.
Hence smoke ascends in burning fireless rings.

The forest begins breakfast before and
During and after, with simmering dawns
Breaking like bubbles on the sea.
Boiling to leave a smoke which stretches out
His hand to cover his yawn for centuries.

Two men stand where a clearing meets a glade.
Their guns raised as to secure security,
And yet one watches his father's smoke fade,
Lowers his gun and extends harmony.
So the other shoots and clearing takes glade.

Can life stop opening my eyes?
It's scary when I see.
Can life stop opening my eyes?
I'm trying to sleep.

They all laughed beautifully.
They all smile with pearly arches.
Yet she moves me.
She soothes me.
She smoothes my scars
And she lets me be
And she, beneath her fuzzy tiara
Smiles for me.

I know lonely girl
It isn't this simple, but if you're single,
In love, tell the boy, let him stay or part.
Why not? Must you wait till your last wrinkle?
If he deserves your heart's pieces and parts
He deserves to know what you have to say.
Simply said, since his fire burns inside you,
If you don't let it out someday,
When darkness closes In, it will burn through
And you will regret the light left dwindling.
If only it were easy to confess,
Lonely girl, you could paint your thoughts and feelings
And send it to him, with the secret needed
To see inside, being his love for you.
It's never easy, but it will be true.

Eggs?
Am I your Easter Sunday?
Your Christmas, or a second birthday?
When I say, 'No.'
Is it your fountain of youth that says so?

We have bled.
So the son is sacrificed
By knife and crucified.
So only the father and the phantom
Are left behind
Like ashes of the Sun.

Dad,
I know you sacrificed for my future
And learnt from your past
The scripture of your mind
And you fought until the last man
In your army of one.

Yet,
Do not decapitate
To put your head
On my shoulders of clay.
I will make your mistakes.
I will break your mountain stones.
I will ache the way you ached.
Then when your gone
Maybe I'll obey your bones.
But I will not suffer to surrender
To your commands.

Instead,
I will leave a mirror in my room.
So that afternoons from these days
I will be replaced
By the son you wished to see and say
"Okay."
Whisper soundlessly the phrase,
The words
You want to have heard.

Lick a nicotine lollipop coz that sounds cool.
Kick start a guillotine to drop out of school.
I'd rather you judge 'drunk me' than 'bored me.'
That's not true but it's catchy.
Tell yourself you're filling your life with spice
As each season goes by as recklessly wasted time.