adolescent

surprised by joy at meeting glance, even now I fear to hold that gaze, 

my heart a quicker time does keep, about me quivers, shudders roll. 

older sense devolved, unwound, before my shaking hands they fall, 

into youthful spins, highs and lows, excitement there, so new it seems, 

boyhood fears now visit, like an memory revived, and into your 

stunning eyes I lose my years and stand there feeling weak and small. 

So strong the feeling after seasons gone, forever shy,

forever humble. in beauties sun I bathe and am in love. 

True Beauty.

beauty beheld, such tired tortured acclaim, easily uttered out of depth, out of soul,

so shallow in its praise, sicken is its meaning, droplets in an ocean. 

But see you now I do. My eyes wide, and shy even now shrinking inside. 

No false grace, no depraved fools dream before me now, 

only you, disguise removed, real face and frown, sadness and smile, 

A smile so lovely, so perfect, eyes dark deep and playful.

that tempest nature, a dark emotions gale cannot eclipse

only enrich those eyes, your smile and your all, so complete, 

In its beauty, and beauty in its truth so Beautiful. 

Not letting go

Silence, my enemy, the place of whispers within, a creeping finger, laying doubt at my feet,
So capricious in her air is she, how suddenly my waking dream does end.
the dream a love exclaimed, so loud and wonderful in verse. A true love washing over me,
This summers day expressed, now silent in its chorus. I assure my heart tis silent only, not gone.

A love so strong when unlocked I feel, like his love for me it burns bright and wonderful,
my sadness like broken glass, all over me it sticks, I look around to see only depraved and lustful eyes,
a helpless endless band of nothing, nobody. He stands for me waiting, above the ocean filth,
looking at me now with eyes of affection deep, and boundless worried care, I see his smile, missing me.

Waiting now its pain stretched across my chest. The unknown gnawing at me,
I seek truth but fear its edge, its stark and clumsy advance, unwanted grope a kiss tried and failed,
the antic in my head now acted and that dark imagination driving forward my anger and anguish.
Long for her gentle hand in mine to hold and to all fears dispel in her loving kisses embrace.

Return to him now, away from all my hate, to that one who knows my every frown, my every darkness.
In his words, his face, I see a worried heart, a love to move my legs when I fall down,
and in my quiet to draw me close. No more delay in my words no longer do I wait,
To him I run and in his arms my love expressed, and tightly by his warming smile do I hold, not letting go.

Chastised

angry eyes turned with words like knives,
twisted into soft skin cutting harshly.
the sorrow of suprise, the unsure footing
how quickly turned around and falling.

No trespass there committed and no fault laid,
my love is constant for your anger and sorrow,
they fall against it like water on rocks strong and unmoving.
with every harsh word spoken against my chest,
a seed is planted, and grows a deeper bond therein.
that strength smiling warmer, deeper than any angry word.

A lovers hand holds tight.

how fragile is a heart that with passions fire beats hard and fierce. 

stoked with longing this flesh is bound to another, another heart, a wholeness, a privilege. 

that one beyond all logic denied and distance kept, a hearts desire to keep, 

that connection so deep, to be lost would be to despair.

Every ebbing smile and downcast gaze, a piece of flesh is stripped and dies, 

the weakened strength strains and bulges, ripping sinew pulls forward and smiles, tearful eyes, smiling through. 

with fight and grit it draws that power, ferocity unleashed, to love is to not stop, not tire. 

Through pain and answers none, a lovers hand holds tight, standing at the edge of the abyss. 

That great emptiness stretching forever into darkness, its lifeless nothingness. terrifying. 

strength now damned and hands pushed away, their love unheeded, unwanted. 

broken flesh and a lovers open hand reaching, sad eyes questioning, crying

watching in horror as into the chasm that great love falls, eyes shut. not seeing. not hearing. 

a lovers hand shudders and is still, the fiery embers of that fragile heart turn to ash, 

lost to the void and unknown, crying out for its second, its friend.

silence in the night, no answer from the depths, turning around, 

that dark bedfellow, that creature despair now beside me smiling in the shadows. 

The K Factor

Through the night sky she moves, as the butterfly, 

beauty without poise, No flourish, no act acted, yet eyes upward dart, 

and hearts forward race. crazed senses, a manic madness upon all

thrown, and down deep down they feel it grow. 

Those all around, I see it, some sickness in their heads anew, 

logic abandoned and sense held back, for now they see her, 

only her they see before them, toxic, magic so dark its night engulfs them, 

know her they must, have her, they will it so strong. 

The grace of her dance, her flutter through their dark lives, bewitching all with its beauty, 

but catch her they cannot, sweated brow and grasping hands jumping and clawing the sky, 

too high she flies for them, their clumsy advance nothing but passing shadows on the dirt. 

For only the finest flower in the sweetest meadow will she adorn, when the sun rises and the darkness is gone. 

She will choose Chaos.

Too strong a love is this, that partings dawn hath too cold a bite,
drawing blood along its edge, fresh and bright and hot.
The intertwining too twined tight, the tug, that pull, so weak to move.
Earthly wants turn to air and dust, and about mine stinging eyes it whirls and is gone.

Joy abandoned now, a wandering need, a desire for chaos.
beaten I lie, between my fists. Pound by pound I feel the flesh from bone be peeled,
naked then I writhe, prone, exposed, to clawing talons below, those seething, pulsing figures,
from the darkness they wait, heavy hands push deep, gripping in lustful spasm.

I look on, no cry can I make, my hands hold nothing, hanging down so helpless,
The past is passing me in my mind, I spread it around my feet,
So delicate those times gone by, I gaze at them, and one last cry I utter,
I look up, soon She will choose chaos and I will watch and stand strong for her.

A Journey,

A winding road down deep chasms trod,
the years slide by, greased and slick and sly
At this corner I now stand, my bag at my feet, alone and wretched I feel,
no colour do I see, no hand do I hold, no purpose to me.

What end is there for I, when I cannot find a beginning.
a long stall I endure, my eyes tired and watery, and strained.
My heart sad and scornful, many patches it bears, not broken but scarred.
This corner I must conquer, this tomorrow I must see.

The past pains be my tinder, the pain today will be my spark,
the spark of my new step, my next foot forward.
How thick and stank the air is though, how it chokes and scratches at me,
betrayed are my feet, betrayed is my step, one more fall I must take, one more. One more.

Musing.

Romance is what a lady loves, or so they say. However love overdone is perhaps our biggest downfall. By 'our' I refer to the romantics, the men who, like me, love with their heart mind body and soul. My greatest love, the girl I still love now. for her I built a cathedral of love. It may sound cliche and sickening perhaps, but my belief is that love should not be quashed and doubted and ultimately ruined. It should be expressed and embraced.
Freud once said, "we are never so helplessly unhappy, as when we lose love". And to this end I have set myself up for suffering. I loved with all my being and smiled into the face of doubt day after day.
What is the point of this musing? I'm not really sure. I suppose these days I start to doubt my own ability to be in a happy and fulfilled relationship, or the likelihood that I will find that relationship. Did I pick the wrong woman to love? Again. Or is it just as the roll of the dice.
I also begin to doubt the women of today. What do they fall in love with? Time and time again we see the now cliched relationship of abuse and infidelity. It has become commonplace it seems to be unfaithful back and forth between two partners. Have we become so obsessed with meaningless sex? It does have its place in society, now seemingly high and revered. My albeit limited observations tell me that real love and above that perhaps, respect  is dwindling. Divorce and affairs are so commonplace, its desensitizing the people out there in the world. The television programs glorify people who make their living by being base, uncouth, deceitful and unfaithful. What chance do the men like me have in this growing organism, this orgy in the middle of the room, how many more people are going to jump in and who will be left to escape with?
This notion of 'living your life', seems to be a very powerful idea. It seems to capture and nurture that conception of wasting your life in a relationship. That being single and answering to no-one is some heady dream to be achieved. Perhaps its more about societies diminished desire for responsibility. How terrible it must be to be responsible to someone and have them be responsible for you, how terrible that someone would care for your whereabouts, your safety, your life.
Of course there are plenty of people who do subscribe to this, and there are also plenty of people who are just not ready for this perhaps, some people who need to experience that loveless existence for however long it takes.
 Perhaps I wasn't loved enough as a child, perhaps my mother ignored me too many time and I'm now overcompensating by trying to secure a solid relationship so desperately.
Or maybe its not measurable in psychobabble and maybe Its just the most natural instinct in the world. Do instincts ever die out? Will marriage and relationships be extinct in a thousand years? I hope not. I carry on, I will nurse my broken heart and once more lead a loveless existence. Hopefully not for too long though. I have a lot of love to give. Here's hoping there's still someone out there who wants the bloody thing.

The Song Bird

My heart a winter’s song doth sing

A winter quiet and dark and cold, 

A single birdsong icy wind doth bring,

 Deafening silence through the mist doth roll,

For no springtime voice can yet be heard, Only

My heart crying out like a lonely song bird. 

Cheesy rhyming poem

This one is about a love not returned, the inspiration for this one was being in love with a girl who loves me deeply but cant show it for personal reasons.

For all my effort, energy spent,
my love, my time, my feelings meant.
I realise with a sinking pause
how one sided, my love not yours.

where to go, how lost I feel,
my heart racing, a breath I steal,
A step I take, to where, with who?
But move I cant, as love her I do.

The tears I dread, I start to shed,
clawing their way up inside my head.
The dizzy spin of loss, of her.
the one who's smile and eyes I adore,
The one I wish to hold so tight,
The one now gone into the night.

My Rose

By no means do I claim to be a great poet or even a great thinker. I am simply a man in my mid 20s finding himself heartbroken again and instead of getting easier its getting harder. This poem is about said relationship and the pain of losing it.


The deserts pale and bleakness through,
and through, it covers all with its sticky heat,
a riptide cuts deep, turning the Lovers Loveless,
writhing sinew and claws claw deep, their moans
moaning, heady, their hearts blackened, burnt
at the pyre of lust, and deceitful eyes smile in the darkness.

In this loneliness, in this void, a glimpse of Red from the beige,
out of dim. The light fades, The Rose looks down,
perhaps in shame, it casts its shadow.
Picked now for my own, this beacon, this red salvation,
adorns my sill, my soul is lifted, refreshed, fulfilled.
A love does bloom therein, so supple so full, so pure.
Day after day my ache grows stronger,
The Rose is beautiful,

The Rose wilts. I see it from my hiding place,
I see it, I fear it, I cannot bear it.
That desert Rose now lies dead in my shaking hands.
My tears it does not dry, my plea it does not heed.
On the ground I must place it, and once more the desert tread,
Alone. Empty. My Rose i will not forget you.
My Rose, I Love You.