…Flights of Fantasy (VIII) Everything must go…

No returns

Your divinity is lived-in
There’s a mark upon serenity.
The fire-sale can begin
Anything but the vanity table.

Conscience Make an offer
Loyalty, if you can find it
Goes with all your clobber
Especially with patience to wind it up...

I don’t know how the mug got in there…
That’s not for sale.

well-being’s a bargain.
Intention’s seen better days.
The bric-a-brac, like hope and that…
left over from my convention days

Few scuffs around the edges, mind.
The virtues could use a varnish.
You’ll find the peace is missing some.
The sanctity’s all tarnished.


Anything can be good with garnish — give it time.

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…The words turn about the axis (XVIII) Beneath you, it devours…


Patchwork      Be kind –           Don’t fret
In print              Rewind…           We’ll muse
I shirk              Hour-long;        As set
& Sprint           Man climbed       Can’t lose


To rhyme    Don’t match        In jest          Meet me
Just so         cut loose             Must stop       Half-way
All mind      words catch       real zest       Feel free
Must go       Abuse               …bus stop.       Let’s play.

word up.
To let

I’ve hit a wall, I can’t prevail.
There’s a blockage where the words should be.
Kind of hurts.

Hard to make out from this distance.
At the nose.
A tidy problem.

I’m praying for a long sentence.
I just can’t find the words.
Kind of hurts.

It all just bleeds together somehow.
I don’t know how.
To stop.

…why wont you stop me?


The greater tragedy Was that I let you<Let Me> forget you

…Flights of Fantasy (IV) This time round…

How do we go?

i. Careless care-packing– not what I’d asked for.
Better, actually. Noodles. We’re nowhere if not stuck in a dorm.

Interesting shapes and textures all in all.
Just the distraction from the tables and chairs
In delicate sprawl about the dining room.

ii. Stand ready, men.
There’s a soldier in your ranks after all.
And when he’s through with your stomachs
–he’ll start on the rest of you


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Drop and give me ten excuses.
Stop when you’re half-way through —
This was a drill.
The real thing is much less recognisable.

iii. Hand-prepped words.
Peppered wisps, about poultry puffs of smoke.

Mine has no interest in being cured.
Now leave me to my madness!
Loose Women is on.

…Omega (y) Two Witnesses…

It’s said the devil wears prada
Can we make-up, and over
The noise we’d make
Up in quaint Nevada

For me you are sleep
You never quite happen
In brackets — all I parenthesis
Strangers aren’t made for this

Call me foolish, honestly
I’ve the Capital for It
Hearty to type,
Hardly for Miss-chief.

You’re a chance I take.
In brief respite from the noise
Of a mind that never sleeps.
–Even the sheep are unionised.

You’re not easily found here
Not so self-aware
You’ll never be nothing
And I hope you don’t care

My Faraday cage is connected
Drop me a line–
It’s only a queue if you call
I’m not sure who you’ll find

Or call me an idiot.
My ears can take it.
We’ve never been to Vegas, baby
But I do hope you make it

A smile
: )
Is all that I design
Share mine

…The one you can’t beat (II) “Cloak” & “Dagger”…

For the moment, the beat goes on–

Daisy Chains & Strawberry Fields

[*c-] …Sexual tension?
When all the bits and pieces fall away, it boils down to respect, doesn’t it?
Who wants it. Who’s not getting any. What’s the quickest, easiest way to get as much of it in as short a time-frame as possible without the need to feel embarrassment or shame.

When I feel a chill in my bones, and the cigarette is lit, you might look cold– There’s me, a pace or two in front of you with the wind at my back.

I didn’t say you were hot. I certainly didn’t say you ‘looked’ cold. There are times, it seems, when it’s not what you said, but how you said it. And nobody said anything about the ‘verbal’.

It’s interesting to experience sexual tension in 2015, as opposed to pre- 2nd millennium gender politics. Technologically speaking, the ways in which we refine our intimacies, and their substitutes, we’ve…

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…Missunderstood (VIII) A stitch in time…

[. .The Black Cat. .]

These ears burn
It can’t be helped

When I can’t yearn
You help yourself

And where they went
I’ll never tell

Must my lament
Keep you as well

You’re so unbound
And here I sit

I’ll go to ground
Beneath this pit

Per chance to dream
I’ve heard them say

Beneath the seam
You’ll walk my way

With tongue in hand
To you he’ll preach

Ending unplanned
What’s yours to teach

Dare you reach
To share your voice

We’ve our sins each
But you’re my choice

My heart remains
Where strings wont tread

He is Hers.
Keep me instead.