Orange skylines with
Copper inconsistencies,
Cobbled pavements
Converging, at odd angles,
Stepped on
By fairytale homes
And tourist feet,
Almost, just almost,
Drowning out the violins
And the voices,
Almost making me forget
That Europe isn’t home,
Somehow.

The A String on her violin snapped
And she gave out a restless sigh
All she wanted was to be in tune
With the the rest of the symphony
But that poor A String insisted
That he couldn't take the stress
To be pulled and stretched daily
Was unbearable for him
If only he could realise the thousands
Of other strings playing in time
The vibrato vibrating into hearts
And resonating into minds
He'd realise without stress
We'd never be able to hear the music
You were like that
You gave up on me because
You couldn't hear the symphony
It's a good thing I've got three more
Strings on this violin

She ran from me
in her voyeuristic
tendencies.
Bespectacled in the night,
she shed away her divinity
this girl with a penchant for tragedy.

A dramatic prelude to her kiss
would be the fixations of the poet
to her eyes and lips and skin.
Those which he can only recall
in music--

the slow andante of violin strings
entangled in the coasts
of her body.

Come morning you wake
to the tune of silence.

You could never tell her
those three words she longed to hear.

Vivid cultures dancing
like jellybeans in a frying pan.
Pop like a violin
flow with the rhythm of the sandstorm.
Spinach leaves sway in the depths of the ocean
like worms
hooked through one of its many stomachs
filled with plastic bottles.
****** honey bombs flavour
the ink that spills across
the landscapes.

I blindly ***** for your warmth in the darkness.
So cold, so alone.
I find you and I smile.
You seemed to be smiling too but I could not be sure.
I ran my hands along your selender neck and along all your smooth curves.
And then we played throughout the night.
But darling, let the neighbours complain because I am in love with you.
My darling, beautiful.
My violin.

Befriended street lamps' static hum
Timed steps slashed through electric buzz
Fled from the dawn's grey stain
chased night with anxious breath
                                              erupting
Out­flanked and pinned down
                                         by the days

Strike up the band, roisin the bows.
Compose another tired piece.
I dread the melody
and cringe away
                              from the next movement
I'm only up for burned out wandering.

     Another balance overdue
Took out a loan for time well spent
     Roll out the carpets for the doomed
It's unforgiving turf where our steps are bent

I'll draw these lines
     of ghostly profile night
and coax the specters out
We'll roll on with the tides
     where we can dance macabre
until the core unwinds.

Defend the fort for sleeping ghosts
I'll man these walls until the dawn.
I'll fight these memories
beneath the banner of
                                  some others
Shell-shocked with gun arm
                                  growing sore

Outside, the sidewalks glow red-orange
I throw my shadow on the sparks.
Charred homes on cindered streets
I draw my bow
                           across shaking half notes
Chart out a map of burnt meanderings.

     Default on friendships I misplaced
I'm wrapped tight in familiar fear.
     But I'll warm to those familiar strains...
Because it's 5 o'clock somewhere, and Summer's here...

I'll cross the lines
     into the ghostly night
and wake the specters up
As fires kiss the night
     so I can sleep real sound
and let my core unwind.