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EROTIC DICK
It is not too hard on the light-heartedness.
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- 1803 reads
TOUCH
I would bleed to feel your touch, Is it wrong to feel like this?
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- 1187 reads
My Cigar Box
A boy's collection of memories
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- 1152 reads
Two Monkeys
Secure your eyes Preclude your earshot Having trouble stalling speech Is terrestial diversity embittering your peach? Do the rebound of conclusions...
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- 779 reads
Eye for one
Listen to me and think what you will say, Because I only have eyes for one. Guess what, that's you. I don't really know myself well enough, To pursue this little game we play, But I know every time you smile I know you.
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- 800 reads
untitled
Is this really me? Or am I a creation of my own? I find it hard to see just what I've become, I can't fight with my mind, Or cry at my soul, I can't...
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- 332 reads
untitled
Crying, lying, cheating and trying, Hurting and cursing all over nothing. We live then we die, This gap in between is the thing we call life But why...
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- 378 reads
OOOOH, NO!
They will not become involved!
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- 906 reads
Fergus the Inventor
Silly inventions and a cat that couldn't care less
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- 533 reads
Four
The first of some occasional delves into my past
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- 936 reads
Speechless
I'm a young child in pieces on the floor. Broken body; a casualty in someone else's war. Legs don't work, mouth won't work but my arms reach out for...
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- 947 reads
Memories and Thoughts
I sit here, playing with some beads. Meaningful music in the background. Tic, tac, beads clicking, cogs working. The roll back to the distant past,...
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- 645 reads
Trying to find a place
existentialism, as usual
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- 386 reads
Bonfire Night
Pieces of sweet-smelling ash tangle in my eyelashes; the bonfire still pretends to scorch me. Overhead, rockets bloom like overgrown stars. Sometimes I miscalculate, anticipating the brand on my skin.
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- 955 reads
No such place
There is no such place as Mnt Catherine, which rises, in oil (or acrylic) beyond roofs. There are non-existent trees growing in incomprehensible soil...
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- 833 reads
When I am at
Everyone knows this sound: The ever steady crunch on stone or gravel, those unprotected signs that mirror -everyone knows- Me, everyone knows me,...
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- 850 reads
Inside
Inside, the carpet ticks of old dust and forgotten table feet. The lamp on the shelf has dimmed almost to oblivion, sweet. Sometimes a chair creaks...
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- 870 reads