4. Day Two

4. Day Two

I guess I don’t like being lonely

I prefer spending time

We’ve spent the whole day

I think it’s too early to end the night

But it’s okay You can leave

As soon as I fall asleep


3. Desire

3. Desire

I could have done heroin

Wouldn’t that have been fun

I could of sent my hearts to Heavens

As I dreamed of pretty little Hells

Counting each star

Each night

Wanting to see one


As if they were heart beats

I guess I didn’t notice when

One was skipped


Is work not a game one plays for rewards
And what does a child do when a game is no longer fun

Malaise of A Maladaptive Muse

A maladaptive muse,

enticed by the malaise

of archaic imagery.


One who is to capture

the blossoms, as in their

petals envelop the sun.


Here it is, if we are

to speak of the swerves

and our carousels on the

enchanting sways of these



Captured on each charted


As we cascade and conquer

the cartographic imprints

Swaying, swirling

Swirling, swerving




i. Voyeurs To Celestial Bodies

From the morning wood of youth

turned to blacken coals and

set to flame


Now I am a white ash,

neither calm nor enraptured

Absorbing and emitting nothing,

I do not grow cold, my

soil neither sterile nor



My waters remain level,

neither stagnant nor overflowing

The suns dallyi’ with the

moons, neither rain nor



From ashes to ashes, in ashes

as ashes, the smoke has lifted and left

me, the air is clear in the crackling void.

1st Drink

In an ironic concordia

of the dispersed animals

around this drinking hole.


The strange are found

apart, as they assimilate

and reinvent, re-invent.


Re-create, invention beyond

innovation, caste among

the unbound within

the boundaries.


The depth

of our sunken


Pillowed talks

And summarised lies


Lay down


You and I

Both em-bedded


Why is it that

we fear this


As if the only

one’s to die


Are You and Me…


Waking up in

the same bed,

yet we didn’t sleep


Ever restless as

we reach our youths



Smoke and talk

until we about