Thursday, September 24, 2009

white noise

Head smashes hard
Balloons, slip through cracks
Brightly coloured spheres
Escape and burst

Inhale - attempt to tempt back through crimson crevices
Lungs too weak
Bubbles drifting away, arrogantly
Shiny crimson reflections

Seems to have stopped
Constant drone of pleasure...
Driving me up the wall

Couldn’t focus/think
Always - bzzzzzzzzzzz
Nothing connecting
Someone snipped a wire

Frustrating with no silence.
For days.
Everything blurs; one long vibration
Constant anguish.

Is it overload, or underload
Tried to fix it
Neither worked
Still buzzzzzzing away

Broken box in my head
No control, no remote
Had to smash the television
No more white noise.

Had to smash the television...


I remember the timbers
The bone chilling snow
Frozen tears of clouds
Daggers of slow motion


A song drifts gently
Raising hairs
Like icy winds
Lifting skirts

Chords of whispers
Strumming powerlines
Lines of energy
Connecting the towers

Green hands drying
Brown cracks appear
Fresh little flutes
Cease to sing

Quiet grey mornings
Replace pink
Ghosts reappear
In corners

opened and closed

Fingers fail to grasp a grain
Breaking, utterly useless
I have the presence of nothing
The weight of emptiness

Skipped beats are welcome
Untied romantic shoelaces invested in
Another run, another fall
Bruised elbow and knee familiar

Always opening the door too far
Wind catches; rips it back
Slam. Closed again. More tightly shut.
Harder to open.

Swiftly board the windows closed
Curtains drawn, again. Again.
Another hibernation from smiles.
Another season of cold.

Cinders slowly darkening with time
Original blaze, a distant dream
Still hoping for salvation
A whisper of oxygen; of promise.

Monday, March 09, 2009


sinew stretches silently
deep ache
waiting with intent
inhaling icicles

watch wooded whispers
deft stare
sleeping strangely
breathe; stop

desolation drips downward
collar upright
stumbling in cushions
pummeling dust

rays raze relentlessly
burning ice
flesh incinerating
in metaphors

Friday, February 20, 2009


i flay myself
you place gently
responding to seeping
i sponge

i sting; burn
you are salve
scorn of separation
mop this

rescinding thoughts
blind ever; cloud
distant yellow sun
reserved spoon

scraping dust blinds
palta is..
ripping undercurrents
letting streamers go

Wednesday, February 18, 2009


eyes locked as painting hangs
snowcaps, rock, and sky
apples held still in gravity’s grasp
roses sighing to the sun

rust and timber, ‘retired from shiny’
but offer aged elegance
clouds, the scarves of ancients
raindrop’s kisses soften wounds

nature/life dance wildly with winds
feeling gentle whispers
lakes of glass holding secrets
witness everything, tell nothing

silence blankets like heavy fog
clamour diffused
soul resurfaces from the deep
inhales; deep breath -