Monday, 25 January 2016

Failing


Looking for my muse

in the bottom of my glass

Hemingway told me to do so


looking for inspiration

in the mysterious eyes of the handsome stranger
he's no good for me

he only takes
and gives nothing.

Monday, 22 September 2014

How can I possibly bare my soul
To strangers
Who will scoff at my pain?
What have I to gain from this vanity?
My words shall remain inside

Beautiful, unuttered. 
You are comfort
You are warmth
You are the smile that lingers on
After the laugh is gone.
You are Ella Fitzgerald’s voice
And the peace of the library.
You are the smell of yellowing pages
You are the dust on old books

You are the great expectation.

Sunday, 23 February 2014

Dreams

Put your little broken dream
Inside the little silver box
We’ll hand the box down
From generation to generation
Collecting all the broken dreams
And making mere anecdotes of them all
To amuse the neighbours.
  

Friday, 15 February 2013

Blossoming doubts swim in the cold sea of reason

"Why?" You ask.

The answer is like the pebble the little girl playfully throws into the river.

Lost.



Your words twist into an wicked smile
As I stare at the fragile scars
That seem to move inside your head.

I am not afraid.