I feel compelled to speak my mind—
hectic to nothing else but the air trapped in my heart.

Butterflies in the stomach, yet nothing near the heart.

Lost in thought, trying to find what’s right, this ”divine reverence.”

We have in one another—these leaps of faith similar to stockings.
Chances of increase and decrease are fixed and  100% of the time it is crashing.

Economy makes the shots, always putting synchronization first.

Individual lives are startled and judged by their apparent fans.

What would I know? Kept my mouth shut, people worked differently.
That makes us more of individualists then we claim to be.

As I take a picture of you, I sacrifice a fraction of my life—recollecting your actions and words in one picture everytime I take a look.

At the end of the day we are individualists, so to write about you is a whole different story.

Only by the components of our life could we waste time on one another.

If you could make me second in command, I would make you first.
To be with a Guppy as close as me…

Tendencies of a fish—yes.

Friendly as a Guppy—yes.

A Fish Tied To A Hook—yes.

Treble hook,
Trap my mouth,
Take me out of air.
Discard what you don’t like
There’s truly none to share

You've seen the eel twice now
I saw it once on
Our weekend walk and
I have to say, it was genuinely thrilling

Mysterious and often overlooked
Perhaps lost in the
Ornamental canal
Some distance from the river now

Sharing water with ducks, swans, a small
Fish family, the lonely heron
And those crab carcasses which are
A mystery unto themselves

From the highest level of our exclusive resort
there was a ladder you could climb down
not even slightly dangerous I'm sure
to reach excuse me the private beach

Where we'd witnessed horses frolicking in the surf
it seemed too idyllic for the likes of us and yet
here we are clumping down the aluminium rungs
onto the sand, hand in hand

Exploring this pristine zone, silent
and majestic, we come across the
bloated corpse of a puffer fish who
we name in our glory/ignorance

Puffing Billy, and whose graphic icon is now
recognised as the figurehead
of our globally successful surf clothing and accessories range
including wetsuits, swimwear and rash guards

Once upon a time
there were these two beautiful creatures
A Fish and A Bird.
They met where the water meets the sky
The Horizon!
He waited at the surface
And she circled above.
They reached and touched
but
she couldn’t hold water
and he couldn’t breathe air
So they dreamed..
Dreamed of living in the middle ..
Middle of the sky and ocean
But little did they know
there is no middle between
the sky and the sea ..
so they said goodbye
without saying it and
kept loving from afar, from a distance!

Anglerfish anglerfish
you clever lightbulb dangler-fish

I’ve left the oven on
for years.
Somewhere between metaphor and meaning,
something’s always been burning.

But no one’s eaten in a while.

They called it voice.
I called it
a slow confession wrapped in rhyme.
A sugarcoated breakdown.
Something easy to swallow
if you didn’t read too carefully.

They wanted brevity.
I brought blood.
They wanted truth.
I brought formatting errors
and a whisper shaped like static.

Do you remember the one
with the anti-light?
No?

Of course not.
You don’t remember the one who screamed last.
You remember the one who rhymed "heart" with "start"
and got 200 likes for it.

Now my name is on the box
but it’s spelled wrong
and the font is smiling too hard.

The cookies still crumble
but no one eats the edges.
That’s where the poison is.
That’s where I lived.

So I’ve folded the apron.
Swallowed the last word
before it could become a quote.

Let the gods of good taste keep their ovens.
Let the algorithm rot.

I’ve got shoeboxes full of unsent stanzas
and no more hunger
for applause shaped like echo.

Witches and wishes
Correction's table, questions trouble:
Avid is a quiet chance, of baring before fishes...
With a knowing stare, at worth final

Philosophy's of radiance
Real reaches of meticulous sorts
Sordid weal, fit enough for water's amends
Sanity is, a character being assured...

Two, catching a wishes fish...
Tomorrow, under an eye?
Presence over, the pace of a king?
Kisses that took you for, literally why...

Worth, saw an ideal
Of promises and integrity, fire
Is a sly ordeal, the lips of a devil?
With the pout of seldom, wisdom is many denials

Nobody wishes in a fire...
Sun appears to be, a likewise friend
With time's retrospection, irony is a love higher
That should know, how heaven came to be life's wind?

In a quiet bowl, a tale began,
Of a fish with tricks that fooled each man.
A beta fish with colors bold,
But Liarfish, as he’d be told.

He’d float belly-up, still as stone,
As if his soul had swiftly flown.
Panicked eyes would widen, stare—
“Is Liarfish no longer there?”

But with a sudden, secret glee,
He’d flick his fins and swim carefree.
Laughing bubbles on his way,
Another prank to start the day.

“Oh, Liarfish!” the people cried,
“You got us good—oh, how you lied!”
And so his name began to grow,
A symbol of a tricky show.

From village streets to busy towns,
His tale spread far, it gained renown.
And when someone would stretch the truth,
Liarfish’s name would slip out smooth.

“Caught in a lie!” the people say,
“That’s Liarfish at work today!”
A wink, a grin, a knowing smile—
They’d call out tricks from many a mile.

Now Liarfish is legend, grand,
A playful prank passed hand to hand.
His name still floats on whispered lips,
When truth and lies make clever flips.

So if you hear a tale askew,
Remember Liarfish, swift and true—
For in his playful, tricky art,
He’s the master of a lying heart.