on


tree


branch


bare


there


sits


a


bird


with


song


as


sweet


as


ever


heard









































moil


and


toil


then


into


the


soil









































the


thing


about


betrayals


be


they


large


or


small


is


they


never


lose


their


sting









































charm


only


has


use


to


those


who


exude


it









































charisma


often


has


no


talent


but


it


does


have


SEX!


appeal









































we


both


sit


down


and


talk


face


to


face


tho


across


a


divide


of


time


and


space









































solace


no


more


can


i


find


in


the


turning


of


leaf


or


the


ruffle


of


a


tiny


feather




the


rising


of


the


sun


might


well


be


ash


and


cold


as


the


grave









































the


less


said


about


love


the


better


it


defies


description


though


always


seeks


expression









































what


reality


can


compete


with


the


imagination


altho


reality


is


often


surreal









































he


lives


almost


entirely


in


his


own


imagination



but


never


dies


there









































you


will


never


see


me


whatever


the


reason









































you


can


often


tell


how


inane


or


puerile


something


is


by


its


title


alone


a


blog


a


message


board


post


yahoo


ID


twitter..









































when


your


quick


to


judge


you


often


crucify...









































why


does


a


sunrise


seem


so


inviting


like


a


winding


road


as


yet


untravelled




a


sunset


seems


a


journeys


end


altho


you


have


not


travelled









































glimses


into


anothers


self


image


or


desires


can


occasionally


be


surprising


sometimes


disturbing




and


then


there's


our


own...









































obsessive


behaviours


so


repugnant


except


to


the


obsessed









































why


the


obsession


with


rich

/

famous


men


getting


shallow


sex


with


easy


women!!



so


fucking


what??


:o<



distasteful


distorting


spare


me


the


boring









































does


any

one


ever


say


any

thing


you


can


take


at


face

value









































i


wish


you


wouldn't


do


that!




you know



come on the phone and wake the light sleeping monsters i'd just put to bed




patronizing


demoralizing


down


right


depressing




why wake what's asleep and cause more of a messin'









































it's


so


tiring


going


through


the


ages









































you


will


never


have


my


eyes


again


if


you


so


desert


me









































the


thought


trembled


across


my


brain


like


the


beginnings


of


a


migraine









































a


fallen


star


among


grains


of


sand


he


looks


up


and


weeps



the


tide


washes


in









































trembled


across


my


brain


like


the


beginnings


of


a


migraine




across


my


eyes









































black


night


new


moon


ancient


stars...









































choise



a


delusional


concept









































fun


people


are


actually...



not









































there


is


a


certain


kind


of


silence


that


magnifies


sound



the


crunch


of


frozen


grass


underfoot


a


solitary


bird


call









































instructing


people


on


how


to


exist


is


not


the


same


as


being


interested


in


their


existance









































attraction


exerted


is


power


attraction


felt


is


loss


of


it









































the


frozen


puddle


an


ice


covered


lake


in


miniature









































pearly


moonlight


suffused


the


countryside


exploding


into


brilliance


where


it


touched


on


every


frosted


leaf


branch


and


blade


of


grass









































talking


to


them


is


like


swimming


in


a


goldfish


bowl









































famous


but


not


there


like


a


ghost









































sleet


with


the


sting


of


a


wasp's


tail


slants


across


the


sky









































there


is


a


lunar


beauty


to


a


winters


sun









































mist


clung


to


the


trees


like


draped


gauze









































sophistication


is


not


the


reading


and


watching


of


high


“ art ”


literature


and


film




it's


the


ability


to


differentiate


between


what


is


real


and


what


is


stereotype


and


cliché









































no


matter


how


fast


he


runs


he


will


never


catch


up


he


was


too


handicapped


at


the


start


to


even


realize


the


race









































because


i


want


a


drink


it


doesn't


mean


i


want


a


drunk









































basing


your


opinions


of


a


situation


or


person


on


another's


assesment


of


such


is


dangerous


and


often


inaccurate









































coming


from


an


upper


class


background


often


hampers


the


ability


to


see


the


world


and


others


in


it


clearly









































chamelion


like


he


changes


colour


and


becomes


absorbed


by


whatever


interest


he


submerges


in









































through


knowing


you


i


know


myself









































do


we


know


our


husbands


do


we


know


our


wives




do


we


know


our


children


our


lovers


our


lives









































when


you


float


under


the


ocean


it


seems


so


silent




but


still


there


is


a


music









































the


sexual


urge


will


often


find


it's


way


around


the


conscience









































in


this


back


water


the


charmless


dress


up


to


please


the


brainless









































if


we


do


damage


to


others


it's


not


without


sustaining


some


damage


ourselves









































it's


easy


enough


to


damage


others


more


difficult


to


bolster


them









































neither


fame


nor


fortune


did


he


make


but


enemies


aplenty









































he


will


never


be


without


obsession


just


taken


in


differant


directions









































he


walked


into


the


bottle


shop





all


tan


and


american


accent




smiling


eyes




“beautiful


day”


he


said





i saw us on the beach together looking at shells




but turned away









































we


exist


on


two


planes


you


and


i




all


four


of


us


struggle









































he


strikes


a


pose


beside


his


cardboard


lover




so


alike


thinks


he




she


is


to


stiff


to


even


see


him




he


is


too


stiff


to


even


see









































if


i


can't


have


the


ocean




please


give


me


the


mountains









































i'm


dead


meat


walking


around


why


do


i


have


this


1/2


life?









































i


view


the


world


with


the


eyes


of


a


child




delighting


in


every


leaf


and


wing









































there


is


something


quite


noble


about


trees









































i


met


a


woman


once


in


a


drunkard's


house




“i'm


a


nurse


and


champion


pool


player”


she


said



thro


wreaths


of


smoke


and


rum


fumes




she


held


the


words


up


almost


like


a


talisman



as if that made a differance



to


being


in


that


house









































i'm


splitting


in


two




one


for


me




and


one


for


you









































men



so


dis


engaged


they


are


not


even


self


aware









































two


feral


kittens


behind


my


jackeroo




all


eyes




and


games




wild


as


in


the


zoo










































why


do


i


imagine


my


love


life


is


not


about


slitting


my


wrists ?









































you


don't


often


get


chances


that's


the


way


life


is









































men the more you


give


them


the


more


they


take


and



the


more


they


want


and


the


more


discontent


they


become


with


what


they've


got









































you've got stars in your eyes


andrew


that's


the shininess of panic









































morning


calm



dawn


breaks



seeded


grass


sounds


sibilant


breeze









































i


want


to


laugh


i


want


to


run


i


want


to


be


with


you


under


the


sun




with


crystal


streams


under


sapphire


skies


and


stars


that


shine


from


within


your


eyes









































the


invitation


in


your


eyes


read


Danger


no


entry...









































you


left


your


mark


upon


me


fresh


where


your


mouth


has


bruised


my


flesh



i


wish


that


it


would


always


be


so


all


can


see


that


you


on


me









































there


is


only


you


and


i









































he


wishes


i


were


just


a


toy




i


see


the


man


within


the


boy









































the


older


he


gets


the


younger


he


becomes









































he


is


a


perfect


wanker


and


no


matter


what


i


say




he


finds


a


self


sewn


reason


a


new


one


for


each


day









































love


bugger


off


and


make


it


quick


your


hurtful


ways


make


me


quite


sick