He found me
Lost on a page
Among shadows
Slightly broken

He read me
In my words
And showed me
Another world
With his

He amazed me
With every syllable
With every rhyme
The wealth
In his world
Of language
And artful
Imagery

He invited me
Trusted me
To take a look
Beyond
His fabulous rhymes
Beyond
His paper self
Beyond surface
And mask

I still get lost
In paper worlds
But I fear not
For I have a guide
A paper friend
Better than me
This time

naively
she thought
she would outwit him
and escape
somehow

I built a paper world
He helped me
He flew my paper planes
And let me dive from them
Onto a paper lake
He took me hiking in paper mountains
Seduced me in a paper cabin
And left me high
Lying on the paper floor

I built a paper world
He helped me
He drew my images
He filled my pen
But a storm arose
Carried off our paper world
And blew it into the fire
Torched it
Now it's gone.

A dead sun lingers
On a darkened sky
A petrified landscape awaits me
As I set out to search the wastelands
Alone

The ground beneath me
Feels unstable
Acidic pits burn my feet
I try not to fall
Down

Night falls moonless
The stars also fail to show
And then comes the rain
Pours in sideways
Makes sheltering impossible
Futile

Like a drunken madwoman
I roam the empty streets
Of once magnificent cities
Vacant windows stare
As I pass them in
Shame

I search the ruins
For possible forgiveness
A single grain of hope
To feed my starving
Soul

I cry for help to no one
Write my confession on every wall
No one hears, no one cares
I let it all happen
Now no one is here to give me
Absolution

I see a tree in mid field
Charred like the rest
Of the cursed place
It still offers shade and a base
For narrative
Stability

The best of us
won't be
the last of us

This room has a chair hanging from the ceiling like a parachute for escaping a burning plane, and it has another hard copy hanging from the wall. Everywhere you will find a chair. You only need to look.

he was given wings
preliminary ones
for testing
in a safe environment

but he took them outside
and flew
higher
than anyone had imagined

He's ok
The kids are ok
She
will be
ok

I stopped writing
because of the sun
I could not see the dark
and my letters
became invisible
so I stopped
and waited for clouds

it was poetry
that started it
the revolution
in her

Friend,

I hope that you are well
your words I have long been missing
I hope that you rather than going through Hell
some fortunate lips have been kissing

A total absence of colour
Blinding
But allows

A new creation
A blank page
Unfolded no flaws
A cry
But white is silence

A beginning
No given direction
Loss
But a chance to be

Anything

Dizzy and disoriented
I tumbled
Twisted
And whirled
And
Twisted
And tumbled
Then
Gently glided
Through the hole
I fell into
I stumbled
Recklessly
Tumbled
Hurled myself into
darkness
Dream
Disorder
Possible doom?
What would await me
Through this tunnel of temptation?
Would it be 9 rings of Hell?
I thought I felt the fires already
Burning from below
I thought I heard the tormented souls
screaming from the pits
Would there be spiders?
Venomous
Tricky with
Cobwebs binding me
In terror
Excitement
Or would I find Alice?
She did send me
The rabbit
And I could not bear
The temptation
I needed to go
Seek magic mountains
Enchanted forests
Wild beasts
And wonderful places
Even if
The journey would take me
Through hell.

We all return to dust
Even if God we trust
We will fertile this soil
When we no longer toil

Yet we fight and we bleed
We'll take more than we need
Go to war preaching peace
Treat humanity like a disease

So we all turn to ash
we will die with a flash
Even if we are kings
All our money will not buy us wings

For Valentine's
he said he'd take me
somewhere special
make me the centre
of attention

I smiled
I thought it would be
nice
And we drove up there
To be alone

Nice place
for romance, I thought

But when I saw his room
I knew

I was so wrong

breaks
extraordinaire
make tingles linger
through work
until later...

She tried to escape
Reality
The sound of absence
Everywhere she turned
The walls were singing the same song
Letters from the faces
Of books
Reminders
Were staring at her
Shelves leaning in
As if they were wondering
Why she was not singing
With them
But she couldn’t
For the sound could not escape
The lump in her throat

I remember climbing with you
Dangling over the abyss
To view nagnificence
Trusting you
Not to let me fall

I remember slipping
The fear of mistaking
Depending on the line
Linking the two of us
In vain

I remember you catching me
Pulling me up
I remember you
Saving me
So I could have another look
At greatness

I woke up this morning
Needing to get out
I heard the day cry for my company
And my heart longing to reply
So I got up and grabbed my coat
The night was hardly dawning
When I heard somebody shout
Or was it some thing taunting hungrily
From the woods or my head know not I
But my mind was quite afloat

He sat there waiting patiently
For me to walk the path
I tucked my coat around me
In the chilling morning air
But I walked along so eagerly
As if I strode from wrath
And like a flame so easy to see
Around my head flowed my crimson hair

Not far had I come into the wild
Before I felt something near
A pair of eyes watching my every move And his hot predator's breath
I had heard the warnings as a child
Yet I did not encounter fear
As he his cover did remove
And promised me virtual death

He grabbed me by my pounding wrist
And dragged me into his lair
So damp, dangerous and dark
And there he let me laid me down
He tied me so I could not resist
And numbed me with his stare
His weapon all ****** made a mark
On my coat and my morning gown

He ate me until there was nothing left
And I saw myself from up high
I went to the woods to find my truth
And so I found the beast
I went without worries of **** or theft
And I welcomed him with a sigh
The potency of his violent youth
I invited him to feast.

I am kissing you
Right now
As you read

Our lips touch gently
Then again
Repeatedly

You smile

I feel your touch
Right now
As I write


Your hands slide under my dress, gently
Then again
Repeatedly

This dream is real

Blue clouds
On my little girl's drawings
Because white
Is invisible on white

Blue ocean
Dividing our physical world
Because the sky
Is reflected in its surface

Blue eyes
With stairwells to the soul
Because empathy
Is encapsulated in tears

You
Make me
Want to
Do
Really bad
Things
To me
And to you

You
Make me
Want to
feel
Pleasure
Pain
Lust
Passion
To breathe
Sensation
Through you

You
Make me
Want to
Do
bad things
To get
To you
Too

blanketed in comforting ink
the image travels
and stains
pupils
to finally settle
on the inside
of eyelids
with slight discomfort
to begin with
before dreams arrive

Page not found

I  don't exist
I have been deleted
All traces are gone

But you are real

And I am
Still bound
To your memory

I cannot delete
You

I draw tiny circles
In the air
Tiny circles to support my world
To prevent it from crumbling
Under pressure

I write little letters
In my mind
Little letters to prove
To convince me of my sanity
To keep me sane

I talk to long gone images
Beautiful images
From the past
Now disappeared
I talk to them
Beg them to come back

There was nothing left
...
therefore she hungered
she spent ages looking for signs
she tested
and discarded
dead symbols
and remained hungry

...
she fed on language
letters filled her starved mind
relieved her soul
while her structures
fell apart

He couldn't cross
When he finally wished
To go back
Trapped
he realised
That what he had sought
He had left
On the other bank
And the bridge he had kept
was gone

from the way she studied his moves
how his hands moved
how his lips moved
the way he spoke
the way he wrote
from the way she studied his face
I could tell
from the way he moved his fingers
across the keyboard
across his face
through his hair
around his pen
from the way he moved his hands
I could tell
she loved him
she had watched him for a while
she felt she knew him
but he had no idea she existed
outside his screen

Sometimes a strange wind
I am
At night
Sometimes an extra slender stem
I am
Among trees
Sometimes alien with tentacles
I am
Like a nightmare
Eternal
I am

a window ajar
cold body likewise open
the devil creeps in

Perhaps it is here
In the blank
uncertain

space
between the lines

perhaps
we will find
that
which we do not agree on
but also that
for which we long
so much

perhaps it is here
somewhere

white surface square
centered but
underneath is colour
underneath and
at the edges
of white
spills of colour
comments
covered as if sought hidden
forgotten colour
ecstatic
underneath the pristine
white
square

There are days
When I am able to forget
We were there
Together
For years
Sharing all
Travelling the same road
I was there with you
Always
But we got separated
By life
lost
I lost touch
lost my way
Got lost from you
And I tried to find you
Reconnect with you
But you wouldn't
You said you lost me
Back there
So I lost you
Right there
I just wish
I could lose the pain
Of remembering
How I lost you
When the rest of my world
Has still got you
But there are days
When I am able to forget...

Autumn spins her web
Across a golden hall
Lacing the room
With diamond ropes
Welcoming the bold

Autumn waits
In a guilded hall
With fangs of silent oblivion
And chains so strong
They will hold any man

Autumn captures
The last ray of sunlight
In the reflection
Of a frightened eye
Just before the last sun sets

Autumn sleeps
In a bed of frosted leaves
Her web now broken
Unnecessary
Her job is done

...
and I want to write
those dreams
and capture
each fantasy
like frames
of a disturbed mind

I stare
at the windows of subtle despair,
broken
but rejecting repair,
I need air,
I want to grab what is not there
so I tear
at my skin
trying to find out if I dare
to lay it bare
the bone
release the scare
and test
if you really care.

She is the wind
That sweeps through their minds
A roaring tempest of ideas
And untamed emotions

She is the rock
Their playground
Upon which they build
Their castles

She is the ocean
Her sapphire mirrors
Reflect their dreams
Dilute their nightmares

She is the fire
In which they burn
And from the ashes
They shall rise with her

But those hands are cold
despite the glowing heat
from the proximal heart
next to them
and the comfort
of tangible happiness.
Extemities are irrelevant
until quakes
threaten the calm
and demand
immediate changes
and rescue response
Still, the body is quiet and warm...

I felt it that morning
as soon as I opened my eyes .
I felt it like a lump
a malicious tumour
spreading

I sensed that he was awake
that he was also aware
of the looming change
the air was dense with words
unspoken
but his countenance spoke for him
I sensed his frustration
his words struggling to get out
but he couldn't
words were not his territory
like they were mine
So I spoke for him
like I always had
but that morning
for the last time

As the pale January sunlight crept in
I asked him if he wanted out
he did not speak
he just nodded
and the lump between us
exploded

We died that day
so he and I could live

I do this
I need to
I need this
This line
I walk
I write
I bleed
Pictures
I balance
I challenge
Words
I give life
I breathe
I leave
Trace
I live
In footprints
Mental vestiges
I offer
Images
Images
Images
Images
Simulacra
Beyond
And on
Edge
I don't cross

I spent days
looking
reading emptiness
flipping through
page after page
of absent words
searching
certain they were there
somewhere
between the lines
among the hours
spent...

I don't know how
But my world
had turned
RED
When I woke up

Vertical stripes
Had been drawn
Down the walls
Towards the floor
And a pool
Sticky drying
Beneath them
And the spotted
Windows

In the mirror
The flowers
My hands
And my feet
Looked raw
Like I had escaped
Another world
To enter into
This
RED
with nails
And a gun

Wide awake
I crawled
and I escaped
Another one

funny,
how simple sometimes
means genius
and other times
cheap

ivory skin
did not foretell
how her touch
would burn

in the dark
a heart is pleading
mistress, have mercy!

My belief
in any written word
requires
suspension of
disbelief

Sometimes
I just want to bury
myself
deep
in you

Black is where we hide
Black are the shades
into which we are shied

and black are the words we speak
when we don’t expect to be heard
because language has already died
with everything else

Black
Like savage shipwrecked souls
with no chance of salvage
black because no one tried

She dreamt
That an artist would get his blue
From the deep Northern seas
Of her eyes

She dreamt
That his brush would catch fire
From the blazing flames
In her hair

She dreamt
That the poet lost his breath
From trying to find his words
Between her silent lips