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UN(above)titled
Has your voice grown louder For my ears yet Has your pose been lifted to that of god yet Has your mirror been cleaned of supple youth yet Have you...
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- 674 reads
UN(comemyway)titled
Come my way sweet sounds of a lady born into a dress that sings a song simple and smooth and wraps her body with a swing Come my way sweet sounds of...
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- 679 reads
cantreachthestars
in honour of my new domain name. a song.
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- 767 reads
Nineteen And The Mermaids
Found on the stormed beach by a walker out on his own after a Christmas lunch for one was a sand letter and three pairs of shoes which were in truth...
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- 1452 reads
Addiction
How an addiction can destroy a relationship
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- 225 reads
LUST FOR LIFE
I have a lust for Life, Desire runs through me. I feel a lust for Life, That surges violently. The lust is so intense, It's way hotter than Spain. I'...
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- 1027 reads
Help! My Cafeteria is Being Run By Bolsheviks!
This is an essay. I think.
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- 1140 reads
KILLING ME SOFTLY
He tried to kill me softly; He threw me into a wall. It was made from marshmallow, And it felt quite pleasurable.
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- 1212 reads
RED RED WINE
Intended to be a light-hearted poem.
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- 1157 reads
Zeitgeist
Then the LORD said to Moses, ?What is that in your hand?? ?A staff he replied?. The Lord commanded, ? Throw it to the ground. It became the serpent.?
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- 648 reads
yesh yam
?Though to Art, Oh Palm On this foreign soil? Jorge Loui Borges in Averroes
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- 685 reads
A January Day in London
Crossing one of Londons many grime grey bridges, Watching spirits escape on a freezing winters night. My mind wanderng to Moodisons many dreary...
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- 385 reads
B-And then there were nappies (Chapter 2)
No more Renaldo Stoporopodos
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- 1052 reads
E-is for the end (chapter five)
poltergeists play cards
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- 927 reads
D is for Death (Chapter 4)
a painting nicked, a man walks on the moon, Finn licks honey from a razor, sweet revenge
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- 1209 reads
C-And a fairy tale (Chapter 3)
The violinist plays a love song
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- 1055 reads
insomnia
The wind under the bridges will be soft as horses, and she'll sleep. Soft eyelashes on sleeping bombs that wait to blow the fuses from the stars.
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- 919 reads
"sonnet2"
your hair, your face, your lips, your hands this mirror made these distant lands your whispered words are like a lyre plucked at night by beauty's fire the path you tread is like a lake a pebble falls and leaves a wake the stars at night pavane the sky the planets spin in their reply two hearts, two souls a path not started this past and present life departed all time and space will slip away as all your splendour will display that you and I may be as whole and watch as we invert the bowl `T. Imaan Tretchicovmanicova
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- 1891 reads