Wave At Dogs

Say hi to me and people and things, places and other things, everyone and everything in its own place. Not that it stops for you or me or for the ticking hand of a clock so stuck by ravaged bitterness or beauty.

Which one I never know, which should it be it hardly even matters. Come into life a child of brains and skin and tears and vibrancy and light, leave a toiled mess of fallen dreams and broken promises and aching limbs and not much else.

Say hi to me and people and things and say hello to dogs and objects and random clouds that seem to wave at the corner of your soul. Everything seems just, adventure puts its faith in your love and trust. The wave awake, the mind of a shattered life left to trail.

For real, nothing granted nothing taken from you without first getting sold on its beauty, on it’s reasoning. For warmer winters, for cooler Summers, for days you knew not much existed inside your soul but torture and famine of your body whole. Breaking up the pieces that were left, taping them back together with only dreams, waving at dogs to make you feel better, for a second, minute for the hour it takes to live again say hello and say goodbye to everyone and everything.

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I Cry Forever

I cry forever. My tears, soft, endless and unforgiving. My face soaked in gloom, my soul wilted in the betrayal of my hearts endeavour. I still cry forever.

I cry without reason, at the smallest hurt or strangers problems or people I should not feel hope for, I cry for them to feel something, to feel anything I cry for them, I cry without reason.

I cry forever. The moan of softness in my lungs, my pursed lips shaking, shivering in the darkness of their melted passioned pain. The wailing walls of my entombed, embattled spirit quaking, the roll of the dice on a life of never feeling better.. After all the hurt I feel I cry and cry, I cry forever.

Into The Haze

A delicate insect, yellow and amber into forestry and forever glowing. A reaper sown the seeds of land beyond the waiting wall, the dime on which to pull the prize from beneath the grasping crawl.

A muscled tide, ripped from burdens patience plowed and plied with the murders of men, awaken in the cemeteries of sentence and broken with the shells of passions placed remembrance.

For the memory of its grace, for the paintings placed on a sea board ship and slowly sailed beyond the high tide on another blasted burned out July haze where man and wave and magic played, where dreams become much softer spaced.

A wasp or bee or esoteric sloping tree, a day that rained without a drop of tears for miles, nothing for the men of beauty to gather into Solemia for the sins of others, no places for the craze to fall from underneath the faces of them all. Into the air a pleasant pleasure be still remains, the wishing fall of breaking into the coloured haze to where the insects always crawl.

Asleep In The Dim Light

Where do you go to fall asleep? A room with little light or hope or fear, a room without a view ghosted from the center of human envy and alive by its own rules. Your room, my room, our room forever together.

Asleep in the dim light, with Tuesday crawling from beneath the souls of these sheets to discover its laden beauty and capture us into its core, wrapped in its daily best, trapped in its gliding crest, safe for now.

Candles, flowers, ashes and dust.. Pride and primrose aching petals bleeding into the hearts of all of us. Tearing at the sweetness like stickless meat torn from the legs of wild beasts eaten and dismayed, covered limbs of furious fashionary blindly boasted that to a man we never did become the enemy.

Hope and fear, the gripping tidal wave of tears, the cigarettes that lit this room are left to wither and be dead without the scent of sweetness covering the side glances and tables of our softly pannelled bedroom bounces.

Asleep in the dim light, alone between our shining souls we come as one to find love and hope, we come as one to our one true home.

Into Coma

Put the flowers down where your mind once lay, a softer smell between the broken plates of home amongst the dying shells. Bittersweet and so alone, dread of whispers taken silence from a grappling place, to new be born the soul of a once great foe with a mind as sharp and graced and raw.

Return me to innocence, play the folk and blues and musical masterpieces plied with strings befitting kings to feel between the rules of what most comfort can descended bring. A shadow an immortal layer, a priceless verb in solemn prayer, the sounds the keys the anxious waiting for next breathless peace, that is more than most expect, once bright returned to gloom incest.

Hail for light, swing for show return mere bodies wrapped in bow and slimmer sight once precious binds out for love and back for more. The skipping clock, those tortured hands feel discomfort stained on surity that time did make. No darkness filled with a bright new dawn can be so brighter as to become such norms, the children’s screams or the wavering of each grand old tree. Sway through forth the clocks and doors of coma’s silence, locked in forever more.

Memories Of You

In a month of memories, there will be more worth making. And chances still worth taking for us to become the whole exact and true exercisers of our demons.

In 40 years time they will become the glorious expression of our lasting life. In frames and pictures, on mantelpieces and preserved forever. In the fullness of health and mind they are undimmed by the torn stripes of changed worlds.

Pasted copies of fabulous rememberance, the beating hearts that betray the pure human emotion of our contempories. Unbowed by pressure, uncontrolled by destiny, unwavering in the winds that seamlessly give life to lands afar. Unbeaten and unbroken stars.

Why wish upon something weak? Why fall apart at the first sign of ageing? Why tell yourself that this life is the only light to seek beneath a burden of mercilessly moulded meek? You are better than that, you and I are better than forever. In our time there is love and so much more than love. Always.

To the end of time, to the forceful passion, to tears in eyes. No soft lament will bear escaping without heavy hearted regret, no bleeding from the womb complete without a constant reminder of all that’s good and bad about the world surrounds.

You play sadness but there is magic and beauty and graceful lust and embraces, tears and joy and memories of us. You play the music that makes you feel alive before death but I can hear you swaying into view much prettier than July or June. Sweeter than such sugar cubes and forever in my heart just you.

At Night

Alone at night
Playing board games, solving puzzles
Staring into broken windows out
Into the darkness my soul aches
Again. And on forever.

Cold at night,
Beside the fire folding up my hands
and place them near my feet.
Burn the black heart from inside the skin of youth, my youth is everyone’s to now behold.

Safe at night
Rescue dreams in waves and
worry lamps lighting in the dark.
Away from here, away from wishes in the dim of sight, in silence strike the day dead life’s last plight.

Here at night
Staring into space and stars and
Shivering like frozen statues
cracked and scarred. Alone at night with only thoughts and dances clear inside my head, cold at night with flickering shadow fires alive within my wild black heart. Safe at night with all the glory of a transformed light. Forever my soul awake at night, at night in darkness, alone at night.