Nov 9, 2011


The melancholy face, crooning hand
as chaotic as blurry wine
worshiping vain in fairy land
contorts the spirit divine

seriousness, has been laid to rest
to confuse the comfort zone
like agitated orgasms faded chest
coughing a crippled moan

Is it bagged ice chips you dip
when the world spins out of control
and cut back flips for miniature tips
as heat boilers lose its cold

for unsettled thrust, pushed such lust
into a mellowed out pain
and fell among gigantic burst
composed of musical rain

like monogamous cheats that ruffle love's fire
to excitement's soaring composure
in a drunken state of relaxed desire
but only when it is sobered



  1. loving the new blog dear, glad your advertising your excellent work on twitter, get it noticed, as for the poem, as always a sophisticated delight xx

  2. thank you William, I'm changing my theme to try and fit the mood of these poems. And I still post occasionally to my other blog "The Gaping Sky" ty for lovely feedback my friend

  3. @ Ade, I don't exactly know what W A O means but hope its a positive comment. ty for reading :)