her smile
light dreaming
through
a prism of diamond

the sky bleached white
runs blu
round the worlds edge
while red cream dragons
chase ghosts of bad luck
from rabbits to tigers’
in a single phase of the moon

Me, I have sat to long
on the
sigh of the sun,
and blistered
I call the day into a cup
awaiting the cool froth of darkness
to waken the hidden reserves
of nervous meaning in my soul
and meaning is the love
I crave, the love
hidden from my touch
the love, that is denied
and votes to depart with laughter
for my shy resonance
is hollow
before the hallowed
grail of beauty.

My touched has
fallen yet again
into a spiral
a vortex
of stumbling words,
where once my tongue would waggle
before this simple intoxication
its silence verifies
my limped green stagnation
and the blooms of turquoise
are algae
on a dying lake,
the neck of a black swan
breaks free of the surface,
its dull eyes wallow
beak empty
voiceless and entwined
cries for a single
red flower
to bloom.
................................................................
jealousy

y did u look?
and wot did u see
was it the waves
on a drowning ocean
in her swaying ass,
or did u just
not see me
and i am here
watching your eyes
swim.

how do you no
his name,
and those lips
that rested
on his cheek,
seemed to linger,
and expose a
shared secret,
and i hate
the pit of my stomache
for turning to
wriggling jelly

i had never thought
of you as jealous
never imagined
myself as such
but then i can
fool myself
when it does
not count,
but my hart
and soul and body
react in a quivering
slip tied knot,
red and ashamed,
wanting to be
that which i am not
and not that which
i am,
wanting to be
every hand,
every ruby lip
every touch
upon you,
and nowing
that is a futile
impossiblitity.

...................................................................................

evryday i await
the liberation,
the victors flag
to parade before
these gates
and tear down
the knowledge
that work
makes you free.

there's a holocaust
silently eradicating
my heart and soul,
and so like
its namesake
it will remain,
if successful,
a secret,
its source
the blank dark
space where
hope swims in
a putrid dam
choking on liquid
weeds of my own
hypocrisy
and cowardice
to reveal my sorrow.
dreams await the oven,
the fat of reason
smoulders and fuels,
the flames licking
the peeling blistered
flesh of love,
while the starving
slave of all hope
carries the corpse
happiness to the
open doors
of charnel
smoke lashed
chambers

HATE TELEPHONES

ihate friggin

email, phonesfaxes,

mobile penis extenders

voicemailhatemail

chicken pox by postmessengers

that should

be nailed

before shot

anthrax laden sixteen wheeled

telcos

lines in lines fuckin out

data spewing cables

copper wires chocking

dead babies,
txt fkn wif ya hed,

canyons of information

turned to starbursts

of crimson optic fibre

crawling like cockroaches

over the ocean floor,

all this and satelites

spying on my bathroom floor

to monitor

my development of

wondercleaner,

that will scratch,

that will turn white things

whiter than a congelese missionaries arse,

I hate all manner

of passage for the verbalised

stuttering of emotions,

i hate its abilty

to say everything in a split second,

and get

nothing like the meaning right,

the intention,

the message,

for all the concourse

the cavalcade,
the tsunami,

nothing can convey

all that can be

captured in a

single

word

falling

from a present mouth,

can say wot a single smile

can instantly portray,

and thats

mine

misery

that i am so verbose,
so entranced by the ability
just to do,

that misunderstanding

is part and parcel

of the flood,

and its my fault,

abject fissionable failure,

that as i write

i no that nothing

sez as much

as a lovers

touch.

I hate communication

other than the

last.

only becoz

i am so bad at

it.
and
so pointlessly
effusive.
will it ever end.

i
hate the
telephone
if bell werent
ded
i would
skin
the cunt.