Saturday, April 8, 2017


listening to the radio

if you would
just remember me
when i am just
a poppy, a daisy in
the gates of the cemetery
my body against the
my face in your neck
will you remember me
i pray please
remember me
the other
defeated me
remember the moon
on my body
or the starlight
in my eyes
remember just me
for once just don’t let my
poem or tears
fall in never-more
maybe forever
but remember
my hair you
played with
remember my hands interlocked
remember waiting my
smile, you

these tears


random love poem

i can taste the kisses on my lips
that have never been there.
i don’t know whether your first
name starts with a j or an x.
all i know is that your touch
will satisfy me and
that your love will
feel my deepest longing and fill it

and i will be able to call you 



your utter betrayal

mutter, mutter, mutter
you do this when
my heart began to flutter
started to melt like butter
your mind is ship
without a rudder, lost,
confused, my minds tell
me love her love her
now i am just
smutter to you and your
friendly gutter, in
the gutter my heart,
bleeding, muttering
ill and discontent

did you think you
just walk and
talk my mind and
lock up the truth
you’re making my
heart rock and you
mock my existence with
your knock on the gates

keys please next time
to forget you, i’m
plugging in my iv
see, now my blood
falls with my addiction
and free, be, glee
fill me in place, in
the place of hard, cold
and otherwise useless
lies. these i despise
crooked, filthy untruth
let loose in the ball-

dear in ear
all year. cannot go
hear i leer and smear
blood over my face
in disgrace of our
affront, afraid pace
lace my hope with heroin
so at least i’ll loose
the weight, the baggage
you attached to my heart
and soul. i kept myself
whole. it has my role.
you console, your
goal was to have me
in your heart
be the art you admire
and now your wants are
crusting me with a mace
to my cart, my mark
i’m smart i could see
through your love-dart
but it hit me in the eye
my mind
instead, preferably lace
your false love, hope,
with crystal meth so
when you plunge me
when you submerge me
into the depths, depression,
i can stay awake for
days waiting for a flash
not tormented by
your lies and so i can
feel bugs crawl under
my skin rather than
your fingers
and pulverising my heart.

unplug your mind
from your rug and
get into the real world
your mind is sick, kick
start your life with
some slick dude who
will eventually “fick” and
lick your mind into
the place i am now. no.
you’re his, look at my
eyes. i want you to see
you again so you can
look at deeply and
repeat your bleat
again. i want you to
see the joy again, then
i want you to see the
wells pour out. more
than ever before
glory, your
wants and taunts
i am glad you are gone.

i don’t wish to
happen. i care too much
if that happened, i
would come in like a
baer and scare
that rare son of a
mare. all i am
trying to say is you
need to pay your
dues, let a rag in
may you be
well and your
heart gay.
now you have me
dining alone
with the fear of dying

i do not hate you
but to negate i am
not allowed to hate, if
you are late, i wouldn’t
take the bait. i wouldn’t
say great. i wouldn’t look
to mate right away. right,
i just cannot stand
your face desperate voice
or beauty because you
give reason trust in
your lust, disgust
stems of this blech
unsettling old dust

if i must confess, forget
i exist. i do not need
a larger puzzle to
put back together in
my chest, muzzle my
breast, my seizing
breast. i cannot
rest. sizzle and drizzle
your falseness over me
and let me cleft them
with my mind’s crest
it’s sharp it’s
just a harp meant
sing you a song.

if anything i want to see you see me see
you see me on the floor
sleepless, convulsing,
loathing my tears and
bleeding among my
besieged heart, if trust
was a structure, you
climbed to the top forgot
your harness was attached and
jumped under with
the intent of relent
but instead your jump
made the structure slump
and you pulled on last time
and it crashed down
on top of me. i am
sitting in front of a
remote-controlled fire-
place, wishing someone
would save me from
this unexpected wave

this poem sets you free
yesterday i sung an
hour for you. it
rung in my heart and in
yours too whilst you
were unaware not even
there. glare. my
song was long and
strong and you took it
wrong, that i don’t
belong but your gong
resounds still and your
words nil.

i’m not going to
let one bitch wreck
my wish to get out of
the ditch and find
love rich i am not
searching to itch,
i’m not even trying
to get hitched, i am
pulling out the stitch.
avoiding emotional lynch
and escaping witch-es
which strive to
glitch my heart apart

this betrayal
you are a liar
i am a victim
and you can’t

even see it. 

Monday, February 1, 2016


The Crows
                “My crowlings, we were created before time, thus we are eternal. Lo and behold, we were once as the spectrum; glorious, magnificent. Come, gather round.

                “Before the first of our reproduction cycles and before the first age had been put to an end by the fallen firmament of God, even before our separation from the celestial, we were majestic. We, the fathers, were the most beautiful creatures. Our feathers were of all brilliant colours and our melody was beyond all other creatures’ song, groan and hum; praise. We told ourselves ‘we would ascend to the height of the sun for we could be more glorious than the Giver of Life’.

                “All of creation stood in awe as we flew in one mass, formation, unison power, radiant in melody as we sang our high, majestic song; beautiful song. The light caught our colours and shaded the Earth in feathery rainbows of shadow.

                “On the sun, there are no trees which bear fruit. On the sun, there is no water of which to drink. No, the sun is desolate. We began to grow accustomed to charred flesh and burnt, coagulated blood and, if someone died in time for supper, raw flesh; we rejoiced. Oh, the juices and texture of freshly slaughtered meat became the only comfort on the ball of flame.

                “Our voices began to falter and disappear from the yelling. Now, the cracks of the remnants manifest themselves most powerfully as caws. Children, the war not only took our voice. The sun, children burnt our flesh! Great is our woe! The day we were created! Ah! I should say, the beginning when we were created. Cursed be it! Now our fate is to fly up and down the earth and to and fro to screech hoarsely in the ears of men. What more could we do? Our chance of beautiful taken from us, we had to use men to elevate us, to adore us, to empower us.

                “Children, you cry out to God for meat! You wander for lack of meat. Look upon your flesh, your coverings thereof. Rejoice! When you see the peaceful sleep of dead being torn apart by our beaks. Tremble for your flesh will be feasted upon! Remember when your breath ceases our screech from above and beneath. Let it be your lullaby.

                “We were the most beautiful, as brilliant as the sun itself. Are we not akin to the Giver of Life? Shall we not try and fill the world with our majesty? We shall ascend to the throne of Heaven. Children heed!

                The sole Raven lifted beak high and screeched.

                “This is a call to all those fallen. Arise. Take your place amongst the stars once again. We shall once again siege High Heaven and make our dwelling there. The Giver of Life is not greater than we; we shall exceed.

                “We shall break open the gates and I will declare, ‘the prince of the air is come! The consumer of all shall consume light. My reign over the earth draws to a close and my reign over all draws near!’”

                The final battle is here.

Saturday, January 30, 2016



After viewboat,

After viewboat,

Hollow’d galley,

After viewboat,

After viewboat,

Eternal force,

After viewboat,

After viewboat,

Quiet hymns,

The boat,
As refuge,
To love.

The sound,
As incense,
To God.

The water,
As life,
To men

After viewboat,


The Ravens Gather For a Death

The Ravens gather for a death
Cold wind hits back
Black silhouettes of darkness
Fly in lack.

One of those death parties,
You know?
Where the trees rustle,
And winds blow.

Almost like a memorial
To celebrate life
In a way,
In terms of strife.

They join together
Gather round
Eye gawkingly
Fly without sound.

Cold-fingered Dawn
Arises from afar,
The last time this corpse
Will see her star.

I watch
From afar off.
Look at their ritual,
Hear their scoff.

They call me,
They entice
They beckon thither,
Partake! In our rotting sacrifice.

One of those death parties,
You know?
Far away,
In the bloodied snow.

I advance further,
Closer to the Feast.
A choice meal, delicacy,
Enjoyed by the Least.

The Ravens gather for a death,
Something to love,
Flying up up high
On the wings of a dove.

One of those death parties,
You see?
One those,
All full of Glee.

Almost like a memorial
Together to eat
Celebrate the life
Of our favourite meat.

Tuesday, January 26, 2016



I’ve forgotten how the pine and spruce breathe the cold, crisp winter air with love, acceptance and lust fully and deeply into their being and send that very air into the needles of green, solid green, which shoot the cold out and shake off the snow only to bring new life.

I’ve forgotten how it feels to be among my friends from my home in the snow across the sea, all too far to be so close yet distant and welcoming.

I’ve forgotten the embraces outside in the cold winter air, the kisses beside roaring birch fires and the love beyond this loving world.

I’ve forgotten where you take me when all is melting, fading and changing away in an attempt to be more, more and more beautiful than that wonderful land is.

I’ve forgotten what a gift we have received; Peace and Love in Expanse; all we need, is it not? A place under the stars, in the grass, on a hill, in the North, away from the bustling busy bodies of the urbane. A place where time, matter stand still for eternity, and onwards. I miss such a place.

I’ve forgotten the warmth of our bodies, playing in the snow as the deer do leap and trot and briskly blunder through the woods of the deep, dark peace. We fall into each other’s arms and do not let go. The snow melts on our faces, mixing with sweat and tears.

I have forgotten the words, thank you, I adore you, I am so in love with you. Here they are. Said aloud for you. The ink bursts forth and declares them yours! til the end of infinity which is very far in the distance, perhaps never to be reached.

I have forgotten the deepest longing of my heart.