the feldwebel became a general
the campdoctor, a professor
and we the jews - it’s banal
we stayed jewish - no error

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this mirror doesn't look like it used to;
jigsawed together in dichotomous consummation.

fireflies once loved in falsetto,
now plumb to umber,
no less mystical
rather walking in slumber.
windows carry weight
and light is no longer peaching.
hands never raised,
no longer reaching.
hushed desire perched on lips,
showing but never speaking.

it's the loudness of action,
reaping what y...

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Moon eyed she goes 

She is one of the stars

Lonesome she is 

In the presence of Mars

Soon her reflection renews

She is a planetary part apart 

Memories become brand-new 

She is solo in this system 

And as the lights dim 

He becomes hers 

She sucks us in 

Until everything’s hers 

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Trapped in this 
claustrophobic body
as it ages
plummeting towards inevitability
all youthful thoughts 
of immortality thrown aside
by reality
where did life go
when did life go
a speeding train that makes me move more slowly 
the longer the journey takes
sometimes at a snail’s pace
towards a final stop where I get off 
and out 
and gone
forever

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He waits

unlike most

and searches

through the muck

through the dirt and the dust,

the nails and worms

He waits 

for a glimpse of success

a meal for his minutes spent

on the water’s edge

a reward

for his tireless toil

He waits

as his bucket fills

alongside his hope

then empties

leaving his spirits all the same

For his catch does not ...

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i'm choosing to forget the stick and poke image, 

of myself in my head. 

my likeness is one i want to be liked. 

the stick and poke is immature and elementary. 

think your high school aquaintance,

who always wanted a tattoo. 

but 15 was still too young. 

so they mutilated the innocent skin of their thighs. 

the mutliated image of my body, my face, my ugly wretched soul

b...

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You’re right

3 years ago, I viewed frogs as aliens

Now I wonder whether they’re angels

Months ago, I hated the sound of songbirds

Now I write their songs

I tweet along

Everything I did, I did do

It still was

Even if it no longer is

Whatever I am

I still am what I was

Even if I no longer am

You’re right

I was right and now I’m left

But the person I was hasn...

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A still, clear pool like unmarred ice 
A two dimensional window into fathomless depths 
Time not yet begun it’s relentless wheel, stasis offered to your awestruck eyes 
Dare you toss a stone to shatter the time before? 
The innocent beginning of all, cast into the yawning void, the birth of a universe held in ambivalent grasp
Dare you not toss a stone to shatter this eternal before? 
Causali...

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Congress of mind
Legislative limb of this body of reason
Billions of cells cry out to be heard
Elected by instinct, opinions thus interred
Reach past the dirt that covers
Break out of silence's somnolent sequester
come back
come home
Eyes no longer lost in wandering lament
nor sight sight veiled by cataracts of mal intent
Turn back your gaze to whats outside
The sun's caress sure to abi...

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Drown in the present
drink deep time's antidote to fill the minutes before and ages to come
Though lungs crave logic for ego's breath, the universe through just two eyes 
Drink in the present til spasms stop 
and brain stem stutters take root in the calm of time's demise
What plans to craft of future or past 
when time has breathed its last?
No aim, no blame, nor ripple furl 
of infinite o...

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Look left, look right
look up and down
this world is yours to grasp
But how, you ask, can tiny fingers cage this winding land?
Skeins of yarn that track behind
this tattered blanket's end
Scurl and furl, the webs of fate
knit in seeming whim
A spiders web, intricate order
cast in gossamer strands
To trap and tremble sweet memories,
the prey this spider hunts
No different are these imag...

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A seed nurtured, spreading roots in this tainted ground
the only hope for my salvation
In 200 years, I tell myself,
this ancient oak could look back on rough beginnings
and trace each struggle and stubborn victory
in growth ring spirals and gnarled bark
roots reached down, as if to foil fate
and anchored tight against the wind that merely tousles
mighty leaves
or so I tell myself
a sprou...

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in the room full of camera’s

unexposed photographs turn,

they do not stay still- how they breathe

to blur the printout- this memory,

you could not memorise- make new,

find another clear and clear your

mania from here, your camera,

stop pondering and pausing

for a better shot, searching

for the glare that will not give,

you cannot paste a glowing prism

to stick your...

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The Side Kick

A purring cat

Sat before a raging fire

The smell of cinnamon buns

Outside the snow falls

Rubbing away ice on a window

Looking out into the whiteness

A smile caught

In the reflected dusk

New buds bursting

From green shoots

The blue sky

Flecked with white clouds

Raindrops dripping from trees

The fresh cool air

Mirrors in the pond

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Marbles

Here is a bowl of marbles

I take a marble from the bowl

The same marble I have selected

For the last seventy-two days

I roll it between fingers

Marvelling at its smoothness

The swirl of green and blue

That cuts through its mass

Reminding me of planet earth

It sooths my soul

To contemplate its beauty

Its simplicity and structure

She says

W...

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How the knobs within certain doors fasten their hinges to my ceiling, during the hours of my own apocalypse; bursting into clouds.

Is this not standard for poetry?

Wits of a madwoman, how she writes the scores this evening.

That tattered bell in multitude and proportions, shimmering sequins from out, and beneath her dress.

Constellations within the drawers of the aorta full of notes th...

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My absent comrade

A fickle and inconstant friend,

of whom I rarely see enough.

It’s within you my dreams reside

but without you, I feel rough.

You’re absent when I need you most,

then sneak up on me, unexpected.

Can’t you see, you’re broken and disjointed

when I need you to be connected?

But if we weren’t to meet again

I doubt that I could I cope.

I ...

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How many times must I rinse off the moon

And unpeel the stars from my skin?

Have someone ask what were you drinking?

How many times must I try clinging to lamp lights?

Try configuring keys into shining beacons?

I cannot see in the dark

Yes, blackouts steal my sight

But when finished,

I wake up feeling feverish

And fear ferments and festers

The night can be sticky

H...

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i was cotton yesterday 

today,

steel

see, i thought you were my magnet 

you’re 

gravity

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effective myth, metaphor, & mysticism transcend

semantic efforts to articulate dynamics erupting

dreamlike amidst more trusted, linear conceptions

of reality, imagination, experience, & being

by presenting arrangements so engaging, uncannily

familiar, irreducibly insightful, idealogically slippery,

that the foamsplash suddenness of its crashing

across a previously unnotic...

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BACK

phantom
chains
psychic
pains
shrinking
sinking
magic potion
drinking
liquid
binge
unhinge
reversed
vision
indecision
delluded
polluted
fevered
thoughts
in a web
caught
beautiful
tragedy
solitude
grief
out of
reach
halting
screech
emotional
sieve
when ugly
gives
outrunning
shadows
facing
gallows
false
bravado
spiral...bounce
echo
songbird
unheard
sl...

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WEARING EGG

so you can
read my mind
but not between
the lines
can't know
me
if yourself
isn't seen
throw
mistakes
in my
face
while yours go
without a trace
point out faults
give opinions
and thoughts
done the same
not yet caught
shouldn't
throw
stones
from a
glass home
chip on the
shoulder
will become
a boulder
spite others
cut off nose
find your
own
secrets
exp...

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Tractors gaining traction

In and of my life

Never did I ever think 

That I would be a tractor's wife.

Implements and attachments

Belts and belts galore

Reapers, tillers, composters

Who could ask for more?

Aerators and harvesters

Plows; for winter and for spring

Lots and lots and lots of tires

Damn near everything...

That someone would ever want

If they should...

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OPEN STAGE

outta my
way
seizing the
day
movin'
on
blink and
i'm gone
no time
to rest
on a
quest
won't
hide
the
inside
no back
slide
holy grail
in sight
coming up
on it fast
almost in
my grasp
know
it's near
hear
whispers in
my ear
could vanish
in a wink
quicker than
i think
gotta stay
steady
be at
the ready
shot in
the dark
leaving
my mark
pumped up
amp...

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This isn't the last train. But the late train

has no quiet cars. If a baby squalls no conductor

shushes her. You must shush her yourself.

The late train has no dining car. So board

this train now, or pack a picnic, your own

tablecloth, napkins, napkin-rings, silver,

porcelain. The late train has no schedule.

Depends on how many girlfriends the brakeman

wants to vi...

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The idea for this poem was to have Metaphor itself tied to a chair and tortured with bad writing. I have a feeling the bad writing comes through, but the meta-metaphor and overall conceit for the poem may be lost. But I guess writing is, in a sense, experimental, even if it isn't falsifiable. So, whatever, here is the poem.

Tortured Metaphor

Every rendition begins with shackles,

And ...

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You can say that I'm a little out of touch
I fell down but I can't climb back up
None of my friends give a fuck
I guess I'm shit out of luck.

If I'm not feeling blue I dont feel much
I know they'll tell me to suck it up
Moving on is just hard as fuck
I'm tired of being down on my luck.

Its like holding in the clutch
I press the gas but just rev up
Going nowhere fast my motor is fucke...

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we all look for something to ease the pain
whether its being hungry with greed,
or taking a needle to the vein 
we all got something we feel we need,
so we don't drive ourselves insane
praying one day my mind is freed 
but when it thunders, it's gonna rain
just remember with the rain, there comes a growing seed

so just hold on till then - you can maintain
just slow down, get outta that ...

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I came across with a dead rose.

How impure and crooked it seemed.

Deteriorated without the life it once had.

I kept walking with it, holding it with my right hand.

How sad it was to see a rose like that.

Where once it was bright red,

now it’s only a brown looking thing with nothing left.

I kept walking with the dead rose,

a sad rose with no thorns.

Until the path ended i...

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Hope is like

A bird that

Perches in the soul.

Passes time

Yearning for adventure.

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to you,

i am nothing.

every memory

every laugh 

every smile

every tear

every mistake

every argument

every compliment

is nothing.

i could never compare

to weed

according to you.

i could never compare

to autism and down syndrome jokes

according to you.

my love for you

the fact that you're my best friend

the things you've help...

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I might make you laugh, but I might also make you cry,
I might give you answers or make you question why.
I can look so serious or sound really quite absurd
I am divine unseen pen pictures designed to be heard.
I will make comparisons to shine a light inside your heart
I’ll begin our stories with with an epilogue or end them near their start.
My language can be quite colourful, yes I have be...

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You are certainly not a metaphor,

But you may be sort of like a simile.

You are my rudder and sails on a turbulent sea.

You are like a force that guides and propels me.

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My hands are patterned by ambitions,

these lines on my skin are wishes,

palms marked like the sky after a shooting star

and shining when they interlace with your fingers,

your skin's wrinkles and crinkles.

The crevices of our skin do not match or meet

the way coloured paths on a map synchronise and intercross,

reaching destinations.

We are separate pieces of meat

but

...

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Using simile in poetry is like using a throw pillow or two,
     to set the mood of a bedroom. 
Too many pillows
     and the poem becomes a pain in the ass.
Literary devices serve to cement concepts in our brains
     because most of us have memories like a sieve.
Mixing the cement… um the metaphors is tricky
     tricky like a fox
          tricky like former U.S. Presidents whose name i...

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In the creases of a crumpled T-shirt,
the darkening orbit of an orange pasta stain,
the unhinged playfulness of bright and living eyes…
the golden curls like mazes of cornfields – no way out –
The type you just want to twist around your finger –
I noticed you.
In the unrestrained laughter,
I would recall each word that tumbled from your lips
And hang on them, swing from them,
like branche...

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We are not a metaphor. 

Although, we have met before

I was a shy girl with bright blue eyes and you were a brown haired boy who played guitar on the bus

We grew up and grew together, inseparable

Unaware of what to call what we were, what we had

This was back when childhood was innocent and we still weren't sure how to kiss

Lips, mouths, necks, hands

We figured t...

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Your skin like the yellow brick road,

and what is it that creates that rush of blush?

I’d love to shovel out your flesh or drill through your cheeks

to reach those autumn leaves,

that grow behind the golden weeds,

the red leaves that were never green.

No, never new, they never grew,

they stayed and they remained:

Dying, but never dead,

thriving, behind your face of ...

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This poem is an original piece using established names.  The names of all characters are taken from the Aztec religion, and all of the characters act in sympathy with their attributed and established forms.  The exception is the titular actor: Acamapichtli.  While Acamapichtli was the first ruler of the Aztecs, in this poem, he is not the same person, but only carries the same name.

The pi...

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Have you seen her eyes?

Like searching grass stains

Reaching, reaching up the bark

Of her rough touch, rough hands.

Legs like hay, the hairs like needles,

Could lose thoughts in them, do you understand?

Oh, have you seen her eyes?!

Like dancing lily pads,

I once tried to catch them in the lake.

Silly mistake, oh big mistake

Because she can be a swamp,

Her pull like...

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A smooth sea never made a skillful sailor. 
Don't panic.
Stay calm, or you're headed straight for failure.
Trust yourself.
Confidence is key when you're at the helm.
Take charge.
Be sure to find peace in this realm. 

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I’m pretty sure there were tulips in her eyes,

I shouted “Fire! Fire!”,

She took off her sunglasses,

She saw sunrise.

Now I know it, there was a darling rose in her blush,

A honey dew in her stare

But they told me “beware, beware!”

“Have you not been warned of ‘primrose way’?”

Now I felt it, there were dandelions on her lips…

Make a wish, make a wish!

Daisy ...

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Tumbleweed

In a town called Tumbleweed

sound is deadened

so that every conversation

crawls like a gentle breeze

through cotton wool.

Beggars are kings,

politicians pariahs,

policemen thieves,

priests parasites.

Suzie is a victim.

The streets of Tumbleweed

host sinners, saints and surrogates

sneering into bibles

left to them

by agnostic pa...

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I'm going to give this context by starting off reading my old match and pof profile. This is genuinely real. 

It's always hard to know what to say on these things so I'm just going to fill my profile with exaggeration and nonsense.

I would describe myself as a cross between Brad Pitts character in fight club and a sensitive fireman who likes kittens. Overall I'm pretty awesome. Kind, in...

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Lips: like cliché cartoon roses.

Yes, red.

But open up my mouth,

Those lilies will  -   snap.   -   You.  -   Up.

Thorn in your side.

I think we used to fly with the bats,

The doves always ended up on our dinner table,

I told you it was chicken.

You choked me with Amen,

You squeezed me with your hand for grace,

For grace, from grace I fell

Down from the heaven...

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On your royal blue wings

lies a small yellow river

of golden sunshine

Your eyes open up

and see the whole world

for all of its beauty

Next to you

you see a tall flower

and you move towards it

You can only go so far

before your roots hold you still

and cause you to fall

down

down

down

As your roots are pulled up

you are pushed down

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Inside her closet are the remains of a broken umbrella with the materials in cinders.

Her skin cloak is draped over a spindley coat stand,

most people name it a spine,

most people's are strong,

straight.

They carry the puppet as if a master holding strings...

But sometimes autum's trees fall down

without reason

because nature is flawed.

Sometimes a stem ca...

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Another attempt at my paternal tongue.

Un altro tentativo di mia lingua paterna.

And though I beam with pride as I'm learning.

E anche se mi fascio con orgoglio, come sto imparando.

I'm aware that translated, the metre is wrong.

Sono consapevole del fatto che tradotto, lo strumento è sbagliato.

But this language pulsates to my yearning.

Ma questo linguaggio pu...

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