Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Rife Lips Heaven's Kiss

and when rife you lay your lips upon mine
I imagine when we're finally dead and time
will be ceased and just as we're deceased
heaven will be gone 'cause there's no increase
on this indulgence you and I are pent well in
young and able or old and grey, there's telling
your sweet lips pressed to mine is set within
my memory of love, forever, where I fell in
with you and ensued an expansion of my heart
growing old, let us dream only death brings our lips part

Saturday, March 28, 2009

Love's Contract's Cataract

growing chapped as your lips
in this dry conversation
cracked and deteriorating
piercing all we instigated

long since the beginning
has descended the feeling
and none could have predicted
us left so cleft and keeling

how in this bind we'd be pent
spent on all imagination
the magic's old and tiring
fact is we need new fascinations

waned is my obligation
staying yours mutual disinterest
shifting are our orbits
continents in evolution's fissuring

and one day when our
love's no longer extant
with prehistoric bewilderment we'll
contemplate how we kept up the act

but for us both now whilst
love's existence is dimming
it's the contract of cataracts' blindness
clouding for all our squinting

Thursday, March 26, 2009

Laced In Your Failing To Arrive

I put on perfume and sexy
underwear just for you tonight
in case you decided to take me
out and show me a good time
but no call or message left me
in my lace and underwire
and time alone spent waiting at home
doused my patient sexual fire
I'm tiring of trying to please you
and appease your attraction
I'm finding it hard to cease
intolerance of your inaction
get in the sack sure it's a cure
but only as band-aids remove
I'd like to see for once your heart
bled for something to prove

Dark Land Of The Done

with sincerity,
there's plenty
of things about which I won't lie
whether feelings
or instincts
or tired moments in time
flattery I intended
but with intentions
of friendship only
we've shared disposition
on knowledge
but don't discount strive of knowing
I think you fear too much,
but for you or I
I can't discern
and what from written words
without discussion can you learn?
don't determine
to be a stranger,
it would be a tragedy
and pain me
for being taken away by feelings,
the then taking of them's an aching
you made me realise
the cost of knowledge
is sometimes high
and in ascending so
it gets me low
but still, I'll be alright
cause of more ways to skin a cat
and in addition
forever new souls to acquire
I'll stay sad a while
at maintenance of your distance
but find others to replace you in time
lines from a song strummed
and struck me true
you left me in the dark land of the sun
and a chorus of
standing alone in a doorway
to spend my life waiting,
growing old whilst young

Monday, March 23, 2009

The Accost Of Friendship

her big, full, green eyes did not swell with tears
but two crystal drops did creep as evidence of fears
of the time and seas and skies to part her and one
who'd swift, so swift, in just a year of her heart become
imbibed and joined in such a way so's you could say friends
but such simple a word impales and fails in it's extent
to lend idea of what such word should bring correct to mind
the hearts they share not only live but are filled with life

with the tears caught in tissue and frowns resolved
he found his composure hard then and there to hold
he'd not felt his heart tug to tear for such reason
and he knew gaining greater was his imminent leaving
but for any the traces of memories that ensconced
filled him up with a value of her and friendship's cost
he'd maintain of investment no matter how long
and determined he left to all her doubts prove wrong

Friday, March 20, 2009


flustered, she came to me on coloured wings
and uttered things about love and rings
and singing wistfully of her lost unicorn
and the cost of trying to steal it's horn
she said despite the warning given
of falling and calling it hers she insisted
attempting to find it and make it hers
but it was set upon freedom not to be deterred
and when she left she was of a plot
to follow the unicorn with all she's got
across the plains and seas and skies
the unicorn is love and the horn her prize
striving to attain she spoke over her shoulder
of hope I'll gain that little closer I told her
well godspeed to you if your freedom's such cage
with good fortune your endevour will tether your age
I watched the unicorn upon the clouds bound
into the distance her cry a shying sound
but the echo did last in my ears of her plea
unicorn, my love, what'll my years be till free

Saturday, March 14, 2009

Another Week Till We Meet And Of These Things Can Speak

I met you at 205 under a soft, starry, clear night
filled with passion I offered of myself and red wine
bled for intoxication and a little shy of affection
let's exchange names and make a connection

then increasing times after that lip-laden evening
quick became us a pattern of philosophical teething
back and forth till you contended I too intense
but as much as wished, I couldn't my hope prevent

there's an extent to which you get in my mind
creeping and seeping so many thoughts find
concerned or imagined where you are subject
in a combination of muse, inspiration and loving

I begin to write you text messages at times
and seemingly think of questions and lines
to enquire of your position and reflect upon mine
in relation to your perception and world's design

Dani, is the past a grotesque animal or is it a lie?
can you say it is so when it plagues our mind's eye
because to be grotesque is so displeasing to view
and all I know of it is contemplation and review

one day online you reasoned a belief but gave no reason
as I typed a hypothesis your silence it teased me
I'd love to know where your emotionless roots
and why you're determined but the present to exclude

perhaps it's unfamiliarity that begs my inquisition
or the dissimilarity in perception and so many positions
that we oppose but respect and like mirrors reflect
to gain images of other selves or let feelings intersect

you never say goodbye and I wonder where you go
when online our words too few and I'm just to hope
we see each other again to resume all left to speak
and I keep writing whilst waiting for you another week

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Afterwards, I Kept You In My Arms

afterwards, in my arms, I held you near me through the night
stirring, I felt you shiver, as in your quivered sleep you cried
and in the full moon lighting finding a fighting urge to wake you
I gently whispered your name and over as a lover ought to
until soon enough with my cooing you grew steady again
and it was the last occasion when my intent I could defend

and Tegan, know I'm sure that, I'll always remember when
that mid-summer evening, wreathing, together was spent
sleeping in your bedroom with the street faced windows open
the breeze through them singing with an affection softly, slowly
and the sheets crumpled at our feet, lain on blankets underneath
with only humid temperature and our skin touching to sheath

and leaving, the moment of dawn, as I walked out your front door
recalling that morning, a wave of feeling hit me without warning
for my caution letting down I found myself saying out loud
gazing upwards at your window, girl I'm fond of you, no need tout
and my doubt was lessened in that brief second by the evening passed
and aroused became my beckoning hope to see how long it'd last

you finally asked so I decided answer it, trying to remain cryptic
and for the inquisition I packed away all interest and mystery
it was something about the way you and I both with ease requited
with a feat that completely defeated a usual disposition of spite
of the other's quite felt not need hidden spiraling silently life
and oh, with recollection, to've maintained such mutual strive

Monday, March 9, 2009

It Never Ends With Sense

it assumed a brief drift of new perfume
that you grew and claimed to always wear
and it soon became and will always stay
the way that I know you as I knew you then

as a soft summer aroma in small doses
of intoxication to and through my nose
that spoke a promise of getting closer
as I learnt to live all for what it owed

how young I were and how I lusted
after you for what it's sense turned on
yearning coupled with infatuating
you became exemplary before too long

heightened by the striking of your smell
was my hunger ravishing to take you
when all I's let was a kiss upon your neck
and you kept your lips to earn my due

rue I did at times your games and tease
I could not play by the rules to save
soon enough I broke and made my move
and dug my romantic endeavor's grave

now when I catch again upon a breeze
towards the end of summer that scent
it sends crazy and by passion takes me
and I remember everything we meant

promise of staying in bed when plenty on
and never ceasing to be consumed
by the other and their senses melding
and believing this dream never conclude

but as the perfume becomes familiar
lost in the air and smells of the street
I look around expecting you to've found
me again but find it just my memory that's leaked

Saturday, March 7, 2009

Upon Condition Of Tomorrow

I wonder what my urge is to tell you, scream out to you, of how and the extent to which, I'm bent on saying you make me feel alright. I know only three words to describe, but they mislead your heart from my mind.

I like you; what's to claim such feeling? And so exclaimed that I'm almost ashamed, because for those three words, which lead to another three, speaking them sees responsibility and blame. When as all words, especially for actions, tire and become untrue they reap only rue from both sides they were ever uttered or whispered between sleep's quiet shutters.

In misleading your heart from my mind I mean this: I speak of my fondness within context of time. Of time as such, that it doesn't exist, as I can not know tomorrow. Because to know tomorrow and that it exists, which I don't, is to promise my heart won't change. Those that never change heart live in the hope of tomorrow because to dispose it doesn't exist reckons unbearable sorrow.

So my urge is not invoked by you as much as it is my hope. Not hope, see, for tomorrow, but rather my continuation in imbuement of feeling and further this is why I cannot utter those other three words 'I love you'. It's too great a condition of this existence tomorrow.

How Do I Tell You, Lover: No?

how do I tell you no, lover?
there's no set way to know what I want
it's surely as yet and most likely never;
not love I want to show
you and I are as others
precedent now tired and wired to,
as marionettes, be obliged
what's set by life and a strive;
that as a good puppet show
pleases the crowd's expecting eye

but find out swift you do when the strings
become apparent and the act loses all tact
that to react to the tug and pull of resignation
will, with repetition true fact:
see snap and dangle in struggle
to know one's own weight under such collapse

the weight then bared, for given arms to fate
forsaken by the path well trod
or the belief in love like belief in God,
is anvil heavy with grief of reality
that we're all so alone and driven to pursue
romance, despite it's calamity

but for the above
and though what I know's not love
it is still not enough
for me to pull our twine undone
I can not claim to love you
but I can claim you a lover
and it's not nearly the same thing
though still being too much

for addition at the end of an 'r'
splits and separates the definition
love is given whether or not requited
but a lover only gives
affection for attention
not to mention
to just feel alright

for as long as the other can make for the time
so my conflict endures for why
I want to say no but for now make you mine
how do I tell you lover, no?
when what I want to say
my actions won't show

Thursday, March 5, 2009

What Sleep Makes Seem Reasonable

night welcomes her with open arms
from an empty day once filled with harm
others don't know what they've done
to the care they caused his heart to shun

she awoke to find her head rested asleep
on the desk at her computer screen
awaiting his call or appearing online
having lost track of time for drinking too much wine

a trail of gossip leads split two's time
one will speed ahead the other flail behind
love doesn't blossom when winter won't heed
and like a splinter it kills but doesn't bleed

but what one who shrivels at words unconfirmed
to watch from a distance another yearn?
friends hope to her; given space he'll change
but the mind's relentless when the heart speaks claim

she sleeps less lately than any I know
cause the hope and moments she wants to stow
she's of no persuasion of his treatment
than it was just despite her obvious bereavement

she's trying to see an end result
without blame but love always knows fault
her pain is vaults of keenness unrequited
and oh, if to've been equipped foresighted

she sleeps to dream of when all was good
and to escape the should and could and would
takes refuge in imagination's hunger
nightly fighting to turn time's hands back younger

he, well he's a desert's oasis mirage
pretty and lusting, so still the lies pass
no refreshment or saturation is within grasp
so fiction her instinct begs of to ask

with answers of plans where imbroglio are cast

other people waiting

we're not strangers anymore