Brain Waves

Regular laps in your mind.

Inhuman forces requesting nonsense.

Are you aware that sanity has side effects?

Tis’ a fact that genius is exaggerated.

Avoid sleeping under apple trees.


The Curious Star

The breaks in the clouds
Illuminated by the sunlight
Escaping from paradise
Hitting the earth with a soft sigh
Rays withdrawing for a few moments of admiration

The corpses lying on the grass
Appreciate the warmth
Their dead hands had forgot to write their wills
So, their relatives had refused to bury them
Selling their shovels, for microchips programmed
With floorplans of mansions vaults

Empty elevators carrying ghosts with maps
Sideways, towards parallel universes

Standing barefoot in a doctors doorway
Skin turning blue, scales forming
Refusing to be treated with holy water

As the rays of sunlight receive a warm welcome
To a place where everything is simplified
Planning their return back to earth
To visit the silent merry-go-round
And re-examine the children’s drawings
Of headless stick men


Her Perception Of Nightmares

The magician’s tricks are revealed
Masquerade your defects

The dolls sitting on your self
Observe your slumber
With mysterious tranquillity
Close your eyes,
Ignore their levitation
Towards your sacred star stamped ceiling

The dead animal carcasses
You hung out on the washing line
Are almost ready to devour
With the pieces of laughter you have scavenged

You do not appreciate
Being told what to fear

The back of your hand looks unfamiliar
You haven’t looked into a mirror in years
The voices swirling around your mind
Would rather not be disturbed
With threatening reality


Black Void

Is nothing.
In the eyes of a cynic.
But, do they ever wonder.
If they have acquired the skill.
To draw psychic circles?


Invasion Of The Truth

Break my skeleton,
With accusations,
Paint my apology,
On a white canvas,
Discard of it in an empty room,
Next to the letters you never opened,
Pretend to lose the key,
You deny wearing around your neck,
After all, I am immobile,
And tomorrow jokes,
Might be worth living for.

Defending Souls

Feathers glide from the violet sky.
Towards the ground,
In a magical white whirlwind.
The birds that had sacrificed,
A few moments of wonder,
For our ungrateful eyes to regard.
Died and did not know,
How to leave,
Their bodies behind.
Drifting without heads to guide them,
With weary determination,
To a place where children,
Never play with live wires.


Psychopaths Use Doorbells

The salt particles digging into her skin,
A form of self preservation,
Burying her breathing corpse,
Do you realise you will not
Be able to reach your head?

Gate crash a costume party,
Put on a white sheet,
Laugh at the unfashionable monsters,
Fear yourself,
That ghost never died,
It is still living,
In the paranormal circus,
Within your mind,
Right under the chandelier,

The puppet master,
Controls her willing slaves,
With imaginary strings,
Good doers are punished,
Made to take a stroll,
Through the graveyard,
Where their shoes are buried,

Mark your name,
With white chalk,
On the black granite,
At the house, where they have,
The expensive paintings hanging from the golden walls,
You hope they discover,
The limbs in the bin liner,
You do not remember who you killed,
Maybe it was the stallion,

Doesn’t encounter,
Red lights,
But every so often,
There is a hit and run,
Always on the front page,
With the name of the editor stamped,
Right under the burning pieces of metal,

X- Ray my mind,
With a magnifying glass,
Maybe you could tell me,
Why the colours have dulled,
And when exactly the wasps escaped,
You miss them.


Glacier Logs Start A Bonfire

Remember June,
The beginning,
Sapphire angel’s tears,
Rained from the sky,
Existing during a dream,
Undeserved of your presence,
The glittering darkness,
Overpowered your senses,
A presence you yearn to embrace,
Whispering, sweet torturous nothings,
Trying to hold your translucent form together,
Behind that fucking screen, attempting to breach it,
The inferno waits in a seething heat,
You yearn to be set afire.


Cutting Out Paper People

Your bones, are unanimated, from lack of use,

Your brain, does not function,
As rationally, when counting sheep,

Your spirit, Is not as pure,
As the gleam, on the umbilical cord,

Your persona, Is never as liberated,
As the artist, that paints in blood,

You wonder, why the silver coin,
Is identical on both faces,
Well, have you ever looked,
On the other side?


The Blood Filled Balloon

Apologetically clothed.
Materials that lustfully molest.
Shoes never did,
sound the way,
you wanted them to.

Talking to the pavement.
Shadows forming words.
Words you never really see.
Avoiding the glares.
Of the angry streetlamps.

Sympathetic musical notes.
Thumping through your faint heartbeat.
Gracious in dealing.
with your frequent mood swings,
and the painful jabs from destiny.

Approaching the golden archway.
Insomnia awaits beside your pillow.
The days are insignificant.

The sunrise greets you.
You refuse to acknowledge,
the absence of the dark,
as you reach,
for your tear soaked blindfold.


The glow in the dark skeleton

Moving unseeingly, towards a destination,
Planned by the nobody, nudging you along,
With a walking stick, you despise the urgency.

You leave black footprints, down the route,
You should have avoided, taking at all.

A glace from a familiar face, you always detect,
The need behind this casual exchange,
But refuse to notice, refuse to care.

Claustrophobic veering, rotating chaotically,
Tripping over your feet, whenever you glance upwards.

When your black footprints, steadily turn white,
You know it is time, to walk back through the shade,
Habituate it, wait, as the darkness steeps in.


The Light Flashes Red

The pain. You yearn.
Refuses. To be provoked.

Your lips move. Profanity.
Flowing. Like silk.
Towards. Life’s injustices.

Take my gun.
You know how it works.

Take a trip.
To a secluded paradise.
Watch the clouds.
In wonder. In silence.
Feel the soft breeze. Caressing.

You decide.
I watch you drift.

The first shot.
Shatters the atmosphere.

The second shot.
Brings a smile upon my face.



Remember existing
In the room of the all lives you have lived
Of the life you are still living
Wasting away with dreary routine

A magpie sitting in the corner
Waiting for another arrival
Watches patiently on a ledge

The dream catcher
The one your mother gave you
Is swinging from the ceiling
When did it start rusting,
With black nightmares?

The blunt weapons you stole
Are scattered all over
The blood stained sheets
A relic of all the times
Something has dug too deep

Sinsiter faces
Pressed against your window
Biting merrily at the glass
Chocking and spluttering
Not with laughter, but with the
Curses they cannot get out fast enough

I know and you know, you cannot
Hear the blazing horns in the distance
With borrowed ears
So, please find yours


It’s just a faze you say.
The writing engraved inside the walls of your soul,
Are false you recite, they cannot be seen.
His face plastered all over your ceiling.
Is just a reminder you say.

When did you give it all to the silver moon?

If luck were to have a pair of eyes.
Reading what you really did not want to say.
Luck would know.
You really do not want what you crave.
Living with the pain is much more gratifying.
So luck, being your friend.
Gives you what you want, with a smile.

Hoping when the ray of the moons finally find you.
You will no longer be able to feel it.

The Truth

His heart burns
Fingers ache
To touch
So far away

He moulded
Around his
Own desires

To move
His thoughts
In tune
With hers
To dance

With the fire
Him from
The inside

He watches
His scars

With silent


The Golden Wheel

Absolute shapes.
Never ending. The end begins.
With fluid resolution. Regardless of its placing.
Patterns emerging. Without thought.
Stamped subconsciously.
Maybe. Perfection is real.
Maybe. If our hearts were circles.
We could love completely.

Tampering with the blueprint.
Has consequences.

The Rain

In the rain. She stands.
Her head tilted towards the sky.
Counting the glittering teardrops.
With closed eyelids.
Happily mourning.
Whispering in a foreign tongue.
Hoping she cannot be understood.
Spilling her secrets. Willingly.

The smouldering sun will soon dissolve her weaknesses.
With sharp rays of salvation.