|
Good evening Mister Cynical, I write this poem for you,Sitting with your wrinkled fitful frown and scorn aknew,Why the world is oh so bitter, and it o..
|
|
its not a book, it is just a piece of writing....
|
|
With your 50 second cheeseburger,your one night only cockteaser,your fast track ticket, fibreoptic widget,weightless high performance gadgets,and your..
|
|
Sometimes I get a visitFrom a most shocking thoughtSuch casual indifferencePerhaps I oughtTo be rewiredIt's strange how it just slides into existence,..
|
|
Her tights are yellow.A second sunskin. Legs shrouded in cotton light. Egg yolk and canary feathers.Her hair is long.Wandering ivy around bark. Dark f..
|
|
And he lay out his hands, loston the wrinkled grey skin.The Orchestral roar of the sky machines. Tribute.The eyes of the hippopotamus are dark as he b..
|
|
I am your water coloured irisI am your tongue as it unfurlsI am the gap between your teethI am the split end of your curlsI am underneath your nailsAs..
|
|
And you never did reply to that letterBut i knew you meant no offenceYears seperate wordsFaded ink and tired tongueA decade of foam spreads crystals o..
|
|
A world beneathA world belowThe birds flock byThe north winds blowMists sweep beneathThe cracked ice sheetsIce pixies veilsTrip dancing feetThe crevas..
|
|
Ten thousand strong you march across the courtyard,
Despised albiet for her love,
Worth a dead poets weight in silver as she watches from above.
Li..
|
first
prev
1
|
|