Is it natural to dislike a moth yet like a butterfly?
Mojito flavoured beer helps the spring birds sing
I'm sat yet floating in the last rays of spring sunshine
Remembering when I was yours and you were mine.

Memories gratify, whilst faults grate
Did you love me or the butterfly within?
I hear my scoff at this thought, I'm more moth you see
Butterflies capitalise on their pretty lies.

You fell for the pretty lies
You fell for the pretty wings
You fell for the notoriety being with a butterfly brings
You fell for the purposes of the accident report

So, I guess I dislike myself, since I am more moth
I froth at this revelation, come late this spring sun
Applesauce faults gloss over the fact that I the moth
Will morph into butterfly come summer.

Grey days require colourful thinking
Bouncing energy is felt
as usual with most people's faces drawn in wonder
Why do we speak out of turn?
When those that know nothing are hungry for love

How many times do we waste our actions
We never think of where we are going
And if we might care for those that suffer
Though the lack of comfort is undisclosed
We should know what this leads to
Not pretty but to a crescent of shame
Not liking definite lessons of our pathetic existence.
Singeing ones hair on a dancing candle can mean only one thing
The flaying arms of outrageous and careless action
Spells veritable acquiescence in the days events

Notice your body
Watch the curves on the numbers on the weighing machine
Scales are for dragons, lizards and fish, not you
Don't be sure that tomorrow your heart won't be aching
For the fresh winds that drag you sideways into
A superfluous distant horizon and grateful solitude
In my life I've had stirring moments but
I realise that every time I wake
My greatest achievement is still to come
Nonetheless I am delighted that I have made it
Perhaps from which eventually all my life will be judged
No word remembered, no action recalled
But the marks I've made on my canvases will tell all

I pray thee leave, love me no more,
Call home the heart you gave me.
I but in vain that saint adore
That can, but will not, save me:
These poor half-kisses **** me quite;
Was ever man thus served?
Amidst an ocean of delight
For pleasure to be starved.

Show me no more those snowy *******
With azure riverets branched,
Where whilst mine eye with plenty feasts,
Yet is my thirst not stanched.
O Tantalus, thy pains ne'er tell,
By me thou art prevented:
'Tis nothing to be plagued in hell,
But thus in heaven tormented.

Clip me no more in those dear arms,
Nor thy life's comfort call me;
O, these are but too powerful charms,
And do but more enthral me.
But see how patient I am grown,
In all this coil about thee;
Come, nice thing, let my heart alone,
I cannot live without thee!

flyers are the best
flyers are the best
we are better than the rest

Softly, now
Break me softly
Leave but your musings to the breeze
Let me revel in the tears I weep
Gently, now
Push me gently backward
With those hold-me-and-grow-old hands
Brush me aside like embraces were sand
Quickly, now
Quickly cut the ties
Do not stay to watch me crumble
Do not wait to hear me lie