fine line

comments 2
Poetry / Stories
You seduced
my blank p a g e s 
w i t h a purple 
              stare

Your s c o r e agile
—with bare lines, fragile—
and a smoky
flair

*

Paper trails
going a m i s s
during o u r morning 
                     walks

While we kept silent
O, u n s p o k e n mysteries—
fading n o c t u r n e
hawks

*

We felt dazed by 
unscripted p l a y s
that informed f a s t
            dreams

They begun as poems
untied their l a c e s
c r a z y thoughts
redeemed

*

I seduced
your blank pages 
with s c a r l e t
         thoughts

Our minds pondered—
carving fine-line wonders— 
on s k i n s  they
seamed

*

Now our page is orphan,
blank, and d e v o i d
of our ink 
          scratches

Which we read as p o e m s
but then turned all silent
s a f e in thoughts— 
slow-streamed

*

There is a sea of echoes
all those t i n t e d glasses
s t o r i e s that—still 
               screamed

                         Yet we had to stay silent
—while we craved e m b r a c e s—
crazy thoughts
       
                    R  e  d  e  e  m  e  d   ?



*with thanks to my beautiful beta reader

flickering lights

comments 5
Poetry
Under the sea
all somber rites
b  l  u  e  l i n e s that twist
and gunshot cries

               Those birds that sing
               this autumn night
               all b  e  a  m  i  n  g  g o l d
              all dancing bright

These c a r e f u l thoughts
your vinyl lips
their eerie looks
those birds in flight

               Spreading wings
               that sail - fair air -
              this perfect d r e a m
              in dark blue glare

And while I walk
up velvet stairs
kiss v i n y l  l  i  p  s
write verse to blare

            All silver sound,
            and d  a  u  n  t  i  n  g  t o n e s
           those wild, and wilder,
           dancing bones

A tear suppressed,
repressed, expressed,
two f i g h t i n g figures -
facing death

           Some long- g o n e  f e a r s
           your eyes, in prayer
           kiss vinyl lips
           I sigh - you dare

All silky, silver,
versing storms,
s u c h  b  o  l  d, and daunting
under-tones

           Red clouds that sing
           this autumn night
           all b e a m i n g  g  o  l  d
           all dancing bright

This dream - one story
all p  a  i  n  t  e  d  w h i t e
calm, by the sea;

         I’ll stay.

   T  o   n  i  g  h  t

S f u m a t o S m i l e S

comments 6
Poetry
I.
She once stopped
imagining w h a t - i f s
and  e m b e l l i s h i n g 
her sleepless nights
with troublesome
i n n u e n d o e s

          /  Untamed she grew
               and f e r t i l e dreams 
                she inhabited
                          *
             For it felt wilder
         to dance fox-like than
    to grow white h a i r s  /


II.
A fiery figure
ready to jump
into a  l o o m i n g
sea of
unfinished 
     v
        e
     r
        s
     e
        s

Her unblinking eyes
facing that
s t o r m y screen—
the one kept dirty
by her d r i p p i n g
words

III.
She once stopped
imagining w h a t - i f s
and embellishing 
her sleepless nights
with troublesome
i n n u e n d o e s

          /  Untamed she grew
               and fertile d r e a m s 
                she inhabited
                          *
             For it felt wilder
         to dance fox-like than
    to grow white h a i r s  /

IV.
Sparkling fingertips
painting it all
b r i g h t
       b o l d, 
 y  e  l  l  o w ,

For she stopped 
imagining w h a t - i f s
and started speaking
in unspoken
   v
        e
     r
        s
     e
        s

V.
 Forever 
embellishing
her d a r k e n e d 
   dreams
          with  
    S      f     u   m   a  t  o
        s      m      i        l       e     S

In Transit

comments 2
Poetry
Willfully silent
and opaquely 
beautiful

Like a love affair
that fades 
wordlessly,

A two-act 
word play
just hinted at.

A fateful page
the reader doesn’t
want to turn

—Lest it blankly shine,
so devoid of
meaning—

A blurry sentence
smudged 
on the mirror

—If only 
they could
read it out—

Drafts left behind
while I was still 
in transit,

Silent tunes
I hum 
to myself,

Unwritten plays
I, by heart,
remember,

—And will 
not dare
enact—

Blueberry Notes

comments 2
Poetry
Last night I travelled
to the dream libraries 
of our childhood 
summers

A pastel-coloured palette,
cotton candy, 
and liquorice
o n  m y  l i p s

I imagined 
fantasy birds,
fell in love 
with new words,

And
savoured
mesmerising 
s o u n d s

        
*

Last night I travelled
to the dream libraries 
of our childhood 
summers

Nina sings to herself
while I rub 
my eyes—
still too sleepy

A sandy, 
crisp, and
q u i e t  
m o r n i n g ,

This pastel-coloured palette,
cotton candy—
vigilant of sunshine 
g l e a m s

*

A night roulette
that freckles
our slight 
years—
              
                   D a r k 
              a f t e r
                t h o u g h t s 

Lazy 
drafts 
on a tattered 
notebook

                           Blending together
       unspoken d i g r e s s i o n s
                         ever so gently
        w h i s p e r e d confessions

                 L  i  k  e  
          b l  u  e  b  e  r  r  y  
      n  o  t  e  s

Prosaic Fire

comments 2
Poetry
Tender fire
Loving, grand, 
Witless fables—
Vacuous 
S o u n d s

                    Damn his hunger
                    For fast food
                    Callow words
                    And easy 
                    D e a l i n g s

When all I fancied
Was slow-cooked,
Spicy lines, 
And complex 
M e a n i n g s !

*

Wide, wide, windows,
Lavish bloom,
Pompous, charming,
Prosaic,
B l a n d

                    Damn his hunger
                    For fast food
                    Callow words
                    And easy 
                    D e a l i n g s

When all I fancied
Was slow-cooked,
Spicy lines, 
And complex 
M e a n i n g s !

*

Tender fire
Loving, grand,
Witless fables—
Vacuous 
S o u n d

                    While I did…cherish?
                    Relish! Stand! 
                    By tender fire, 
                    Prosaic,
                    G r a n d

O near missteps
On fast-burned lights,
This doomed, doomed,
Pyre of fast
D e l i g h t s

A Twist of Lemon

comments 14
Poetry
He smiles 
as I write
these
words

                         A twist of lemon,
                     some bitter tonic
                           flowing through
                                 thirsty veins

            *

I smile 
as he draws
a pair 
of eyes

                                    The ones 
                               that brighten
                         the darkest days
                 of our nocturne souls

            *

Chilly air 
swirls into
our empty
space

                         While I get rid 
                              of commas,
                              full stops—
                                 irreverent
                               aftertastes

            *

It all ends 
with a styled, 
stained letter
and a twist of lemon—

                                 As it gently
                                     infuses
                                 our vodka
                                  and tonic,

 —And this fine,
  short,
  tale

Silver Mansion

comments 10
Poetry
S   l   o   w   l   y ,
yet oozing danger,
a spider trail-blazes
the path to her 
silver
mansion

The one I, 
yawning and
weary-eyed,
visit on
sleepless 
nights

I shout—
but there is no point
in getting bewildered—
I’m just 
tripping

                                          / I n  t h i s
                                          i m a g i n a r y
                                          i m p l o s i o n
                                          o f   m y
                                         s l e e p l e s s
                                         m i n d /

Slowly,
but
fearlessly
I approach
the light with
cautious 
steps

I can’t sleep,
I shout—
yet my loving cuddle
keeps escaping
her kiss
of death

                                   / I  d r e a m  o f
                                   a  l i f e  o f  w o n d e r
                                   b a r e l y
                                   h i d d e n  b e h i n d 
                                   h e r  s l i m y
                                   w a l l s /

Truth is
spiders
were never my
chosen companions
in day-dreaming
adventures

Still,
she seems
quirky
enough
to become
my nocturne
muse

As I,
yawning, and
weary-eyed,
follow the path
into her
S  i  l  v  e  r 
M   a   n  s   i   o  n

Wild One (Collab)

comments 5
Collabs / Poetry
grayscale photo of person s hand leaning on window
Photo by Mateus Souza on Pexels.com
By Secret Bree and Vintage Black

With a piercing 
stare 
and unquenchable 
appetite—
 
I’m one  
of the wild ones
captivating 
and 
fierce

Slowly 
ever so vigilantly
you approach 
trying to 
embrace 
me with 
velvet 
sounds 
 
—Casting that 
wicked 
magic 
of a  
wild 
cat 
whisperer— 
 
Yet I’m
not falling  
prey 
to your 
taming 
charms 
  
Inevitably 
you’ll fall 
in lust  
Everything else 
turning 
to dust 
against 
my 
sensual verses
 
Sweaty, 
playful- 
breathing, 
s  l  o  w
 
Will you join me 
when I start  
to  
lick 
and 
lay down 
l  o  w
 
rocking my hips— 
begging you 
/in verse/ 
oh, please 
come?
 
Foxy 
feline 
needing
fun
 
Sighing
feeling 
outstretched  
back 
 
Wild one 
ponders
when 
to 
a 
t 
t 
a 
c 
k 
 
I know 
you enjoy 
watching me 
wild and free 
but remember 
from 
my bedroom 
there are 
no 
escapees
 
You better 
be careful
I tease, 
and 
I bite
 
But do not fear— 
it’s
ever  
so slight
You won’t get hurt 
 
I rock my hips— 
so loud 
you sigh— 
you welcome me 
with arms 
open 
wide
  
I’m one of the
wild ones
captivating
and
fierce

With wild 
anticipation, 
all sweaty, 
untamed, 
in thrusting tempo, 
in pleasurable 
pain 
 
We tease 
we lick 
we sigh 
it hurts 
 
But just  
ever so 
slightly…. 
 
Wild play 

B u r n i n g

comments 15
Poetry
Devil player
faded charm
mindless trickster
she dared fight, 

One fair combat—
all she wanted
yet, the truth is,
he,

       d
       e
       c
        l
        i
       n
       e
       d

Biding adieu
to his wonders
such a let down
ice rock heart

She kept weaving
her wild verses
while she smoked,
she drank, 
she laughed

Yet he fired 
treason bullets
thinking he’d 
just reaped
her heart

He believed
her wounds
were deadly—
lousy honour,
crumbling Bard!

Yet the stars, 
my friends,
just wished
that night,

For old-time
cheats
to burn
to ash

And with fighting
all abandoned,
on forged devil
with a mask

She poured 
unforgiving lava,
blazing verses,
flaming darts

Biding adieu
to his wonders
while

s h e   
F i r e s,
L  o  v  e  s , 
a n d
W  r  i  t  e  s

Stoned Verse

comments 12
Poetry
Silver songs 
and sombre sounds 
like silent stories— 
stoned, profound 
 
Writing, boldly, 
of wild, wild dreams, 
this page all soaked 
with bright, red ink 
 
My tears pouring 
down that page, 
just drowning words
with startled rage 
 
While smoking, 
writing, 
dreaming, 
stoned, 
 
Those letters 
blurring— 
poems 
I owned 
 
My silver  
song 
so stoned 
it fades 
 
The story 
inhabits 
dark,  
stark caves 
 
Yet writing, boldly, 
of wild, wild dreams, 
that nearly burst  
with bright red ink 
 
And those 
stoned letters 
cast long
shades, 
 
All dripping, 
bloodied, 
verse  
cascades    
 
While smoking, 
writing, 
dreaming, 
stoned, 
 
Those letters 
blurring— 
poems 
I owned 
 
My ire blazing 
on that page 
just burning words
with startled rage 
 
And writing, 
boldly, 
of wild, 
wild dreams, 
 
This silver  
song, 
 
so  
stoned—  
 
It fades. 

Broken Mirror

comments 14
Poetry
I strived to collect
the shattered 
pieces of your 
broken 
mirror

The one 
you bought
to catch a glimpse
of your ailing 
soul

I’d slowly arrange 
those 
crystal pieces 
into a living
puzzle

My hands
got scarred,
my heart, all aching—
fearing
one high toll

My mind 
all floundered,
just picking pieces 
off the cold
ceramics

My feet all naked,
as I kept walking 
on that
unswept 
floor

*

You yearned
to collect the
shattered pieces
of your broken 
mirror

The one 
You bought
to catch a glimpse
of your unmasked 
whole

Yet your aid, 
guarded,
while it was wanted,
you just kept all 
secret,

For hell,
lightened,
may have 
one day granted
your long-wished 
parole

Forever silenced,
while it was wanted,
it remained a secret,
a living puzzle
a shattered mirror—

a sight 
so 
bold

*

I’d try to arrange
those 
crystal pieces
into a living
puzzle

The one that
would once
brighten such 
a dim-lit
gaol

Yet my aid, 
guarded,
while it was needed,
you just kept all 
secret,

Those empty promises
words void 
of meaning—
a death 
foretold

Yes—it was wanted,
those shattered 
pieces,
a living 
puzzle,

Which you kept 
guarded,
forever silenced,
an ailing
soul

Rare Waters

Leave a comment
Poetry
Rare words,
Wildly
Running
Through those
Full lips— 
Untimed

The ones you
Didn’t dare
Open
When trying
To speak 
Your riveting
Lies

Rivers 
of sound
Reverberating
Through
Silence,

Flying arabesques
Of the mind—
In your dreams,
So far away
In that gloomy horizon

Silent
Words—
Wildly pouring 
through
Tearful
Sights

Soft mounds,
Rare waters—
Some eerie
Arabesque
Light

The one you
Wouldn’t dare
Shed—
While plotting
Your riveting
Lies

Silent words
Soothing waters—
And ghostly
Dreams of
Might

f r o z e n l a n d s c a p e

comments 7
Poetry
W i t h  h o p e,
      they paint
their lucid
           dreams
               o f  
y  o  n  d  e  r

                         f    e    e
                             l    i 
                                n  g

                f      l     u      i       d  ,

S p r e a d i n g
a r m s  in 
d r u n k e n 
      c o l o u r e d
        s    n    o    w


Unspoken fantasy—
melting into
a madman’s
f l o r i d
         l   a  n   d 
                  s   c    a   p  e

Their heart,
f r o z e n , aged —
yet still moving to
the beat of this
        f r e e
           f    l   o   w 


*

W i t h  h o p e,
      they paint
their lucid
           dreams
               o f  
y  o  n  d  e  r


Naughtily stirring
the  s o o t h i n g
c a l m n e s s
of  s u c h
         w   o    e 

As, from afar,
they look
at this
f r e s h l y
                   p a i n t e d 
                l   a   n    d 
   s    c     a    p    e ,

                       f    e    e
                             l    i 
                                n  g

              f     l     u      i       d  ,

Their minds
a l i g h t
   w i t h
        d  r  u  n  k  e  n 
               
                      c   o   l   o   u   r   e   d
                     
                                     g         l         o         w

Stifling a yawn (Collab)

comments 14
Collabs / Poetry
By Secret Thoughts Within and Vintage Black 

I am so tired
so very, very tired
of not feeling comfortable within myself 
I am so weary
so very, very weary
of putting my heart back on the shelf
 
Tired 
        tired tired
Weary 
        weary weary
 
Comfortable with nothing
and weary with so little
my shelf life (patience) expired
and my honest thoughts
are cracked and 
b    r    i    t    t    l     e
 
Feelings in disguise,
yet naked to my eyes
tired of dried tears
words stumbling 
in my mouth
 
I’m comfortable 
with nothing
I keep wearing
this sad face,
walking through my life 
feeling barely 
awake
 
I am so tired
so very, very tired
of not feeling comfortable within myself 
I am so weary
so very, very weary
of putting my heart back on the shelf
 
Tired 
        tired tired
Weary 
        weary weary
 
I open my eyes 
stifle a yawn
allow my heart to take some chances
Some friendly hugs
Some cheeky words
Some flirty engaging glances
 
Still 
      so tired,
and so weary 
               I am
 
Yet I know, 
with a smile
a verse
a stream of thought,
a nice coffee
under the sun

I’ll awaken from dreams
and all I have lost
and slowly 
but surely discover 
my heart's still beating—
s  o        s   t    r    o   n    g


*Third piece I write with the lovely Secret Thoughts within - always great fun collaborating with her

dyed verse

comments 11
Poetry
Where is her tiny
Black dress?
The one 
She wanted to
Wear that
E v e n i n g

A dress of
Fancy,
Bitter,
Sweet and
Dark-tinged
V e r s e

Prose-dyed,
Vague-styled,
But, still,
Written with
Her,
I n   u n i s o n

Neither 
Of them
Wanting 
To die
A verse-less 
D e a t h

For this, 
They together 
Caress,
An achingly

                D a r k , 

                            —  B   o   l    d


     B   l   a   c  k

                   —  D     y    e     d


                                                    D        r         e        s       s
   
   —     V               e                r              s                e

PoemStormer

comments 9
Poetry
Fragments of deep verse
Washing ashore
Yet the lyrical tempest
Hasn’t even
S t a r t e d

In this rough and
slumbering,
Wetly dry and
Wicked,
Late summer 
of slow
w o r d s

                Wake 
                              up, 

            W o r d S t o r m e r

Have you ever
dreamed of
such a late,
And furious,

Timeless,
Fateful,
Somber,

Fearsome,
Word
S t o r m ?

             Wake 
                           up, 

         W o r d S t o r m e r

Sedimented stanzas
Washing ashore
Yet the lyrical tempest
Hasn’t even
S t a r t e d

Far removed 
from Self,
Far removed
From Other,
Far removed 
from
Poets—
Far removed—
Smothered

In this rough,
slumbering,
Wetly dry and
Wicked,
Late summer 
Of slow
w o r d s

        Wake 
                     up, 

     P o e m S t o r m e r

Purple Waves

comments 5
Poetry
We haven’t met
In real life
I’ve barely seen 
Your framed
P r o f i l e

Yet your words
Illuminate
My path
Your empath
Soul
My spirit
L i g h t e n s

This soft
Bright verse
All weaved in
P u r p l e

A wickedly
Magnetic rhymer
Wielding words
With infinite poetic
N  o  u s

A great
Wing poetess
A gifted lyricist—
And a better 
F r i e n d

This soft
Bright verse
All weaved in
P u r p l e

I gift you back
This free-
Spirited
Scripted,
T e r s e ,

Mild-waved
Wild-rhymed
But honestly,
Faithfully,
D e e p l y ,

All purple,
Waved, and
Soulfully
Written
V e r s e

T h e s  e  
P  u  r  p  l  e
W    a    v    e     s

d i t h e r

comments 5
Poetry
A g e n t  
      p r o v o c a t r i c e
she tried
t o
b
e

                                                   a n d
                                       p r i c k e d
                                b y  t h o r n y
                        — p   o   e   m   s


these fingers,
n o w,
b  a  r  e 
      r h y m e s
c a n ' t


                s            r          b          l
                       c          i           b         e
                 
                  *

                        y e t  s h e 's  a
             d i l e t t a n t e —
                 at
               a m b i g u i t y
                       she 
     d  i  t  h  e  r  s

                    *

                         t h i s  g l a r i n g                                                                                         
                            s u n                                                                                     
         e m b a l m i n g                                                              
              l   i   g   h   t                                                 
   

                              will  b a t h e               
                                   her  f r a i l  y e t
                                       r  h  y  t  h  m  i  c
                           m      i      g     h      t
         
                    *

            she y e a r n s ,                      
                             once m o r e,                   
                          t o  d i v e    

                                           i                       
                                           n , 
                  
                                          s         i      m                         
                                                w    
                                                                
          
                                               blue - b i r t h i n g
                                             v  e  r  s  e
                            i n   l  u  s  c  i  o  u  s
                                      i  n  k
                                

                       *

t h i s  g l a r i n g                                                                                         
                            s u n                                                                                     
         e m b a l m i n g                                                              
              l   i   g   h   t         

                   
                           will  b a t h e               
                                   her  f r a i l  y e t
                                       r  h  y  t  h  m  i  c
                           m      i      g     h      t


                  *

A g e n t  
      p  r  o  v  o  c  a  t  r  i  c  e
she t r i e d
t o
b
e

             and  d i t h e r
                                   d i d
                                 and
                                   d  i  t  h  e  r
                                            w i  l  l
                                                                                                

                 *

                               u n d e r
                     n e w  l i g h t 

             a   b a  r  e
         b l u e
      b o l d ,

                  free
                   v e r s e —
                         t  a  k  e  s 


                             f                t
                              l         h
                                i  g            


                *

                                                    A g e n t  
                             p r o v o c a t r i c e
                            g o t  n e a r l y 
                         k   i   l   l   e    d ,


           b u t  b i r d 
of m i g h t r e b o r n
  she found
    h   e    r

                    *
      
                           and  d i t h e r
                                   d i d
                                 and
                                   d  i  t  h  e  r
                                            w i  l  l                     
      

these fingers,
n o w ,
b a r e 
      r h y m e s
      d  o


                s            r          b          l
                       c          i           b         e


       
                 *

                              r e b o r n
                      and full
                  of
              m  i  g  h  t

            i n  i n k she
                  t h r i v e s
                       in  i n k  she
                          s  w  i  m  s


              *

A g e n t  
      p r o v o c a t r i c e
she tried
t o
b
e

                                              yet s h e ' s  a
                        d i l e t t a n t e —
                       at
                    a m b i g u i t y
                       she 
                              d  i  t  h  e  r  s

Steamed Letters

comments 10
Poetry
these days
i feel too mild
to grasp life with
a mordacious bite

i lose my pencils easily
and i permanently 
misplace my pens
and pads

my words end up
stored away 
in fridges,
where i’d rarely
look,

Alas!

lest I turn 
ravenous
with 
rhyming
lust

my lazy verses, 
in arrears,
they become 
tears of

 m
     o
        d
     e
  r
    o
b

goodbye
steam lettering
on a hot bathroom

      M
        
        i            r
        
          r               o
        
       r               r
         
 o                        r
          
r                             i
            
                                 M

Interstellar (Collab)

comments 6
Collabs / Poetry
black and white art dark summer
Photo by Jana Ohajdova on Pexels.com
By Amber @Diosraw & Vintage Black

We nursed those
pixelated lilies
back to
WordPress life

Time
travelling
the technicolor
cyberspace

Birthing
new data nova
blossoming
ripples

The way our
readers would
love them to sway
and rhyme

Forever
poetically
entwined like
old 'net souls,

Smelling them,
after one hell
of a poet hard
day's night

Those petals
never smelled so
beautiful, their aroma,
yet untouched

Frozen
in the liquid
space of
virtual landscapes

Traceable 
as textured
blogging
stanzas

Scented like
miniature
screen
snowdrops, 

with concealing
yet revealing
online veils and,

O 
frail and
pixelated 
lilies,

interstellar.

* * * 

For this “virtual eco-poetry” (own coinage :p) piece, I bounced ideas back and forth with Amber @Diosraw. Amber’s got a site with hundreds of resources on multiple topics - ranging from yoga, eastern spirituality, science, tech, alternative media, and many more.

White Tears

comments 13
Poetry
I die
A thousand
Deaths,
And cry
A thousand 
Tears

Inky drops
Become
Soft crease—
On coarse skin,
Renewed
Fears

I write
This very 
Poem
To tattoo it
On your
Skin

White ink
Is so translucent—
Such a 
Slight,
Poetic
Sin

I die
A thousand
Deaths,
And cry
A thousand 
Tears

If only 
I’d read this
On my palm—
To get prepared
For life’s
exam

But fact is,
History
Tells me,
You can’t
Read 
Between 
Inked lines

I die
A thousand
Deaths,
And cry
A thousand 
Tears

Profound verse,
Quenching
Thirst
For life—
Would tell 
You about
Poetic
Strive

You die
A thousand
Deaths,
And cry
A thousand 
Tears

Some dark 
Drop
Stains,
Soft, 
Wrinkled
Skin

On book
Unwritten,
Dark, 
And stark,

And torn,
And loud,
And
Magic,

Start.

And
Feared.

So.

White.

Teared.

smudged lines

comments 4
Poetry
Skin puzzle 
Dismantled 
In pieces 
It breaks 
A myriad of  
Heartbreaks 
A billion 
Blue tapes 
  
I turn on  
The radio 
My mind gets 
All buzz 
My eyes get  
All blurry 
My heart  
Gives a blast 
 
The mike  
Switches on 
No words 
Old travail 
I clear my mind 
My voice 
Won’t obey 
  
Skin puzzle 
Dismantled 
In pieces 
It breaks 
A myriad of  
Heartbreaks 
A billion 
Blue tapes 
  
They give you an answer 
You don’t wanna hear 
It’s sad and 
So lonely—
No place 
For you here
  
Now ready to go.
Please do...
Draw the curtain! 
And—
Switch. off.
That.
Lamp.

Steam rises, 
So hot here!
That room—
Gets. 
All. 
Damp. 
  
Don’t want 
Those 
Wall poems 
All soiled, 
Dyed, 
Smeared, 
Smudged 
 
Skin puzzle 
Dismantled 
In pieces 
It breaks 
A myriad of  
Heartbreaks 
A billion 
Blue tapes 

*** With love to my favourite beta reader; you know who you are ;-)
 

Electric Child

comments 10
Poetry
She was born
An electric year
Blank was her canvas
Gone with the wind
A hectic mind
And fragile skin

Tears of dust
Heading to the
Gold horizon
Electric to touch
And buzzing with
Flying verse

Dressed in cord pants
Chunky brown shoes
Curls down
To her ears
Eyes⁠—wiser than
Her years

Tears of dust
Heading to the
Gold horizon
Electric to touch
And buzzing with
Flying verse

She was born
To a bird of clay
Blue was the sky
Crimson obeyed⁠—
Turned cold prey
Craftsmen say
Magenta pigment
Had ran out
That day

Tears of dust
Heading to the
Gold horizon
Electric to touch
And buzzing with
Flying verse

Paint on her fingertips
Words down her eyelids
Stardust kisses
On her lips
Electric blue tinges
Nursing her
Back to sleep

Tears of dust
Heading to the
Gold horizon
Electric to touch
And buzzing with
Flying verse

She was born
An electric year
Blank was her canvas
Gone with the wind
A hectic mind
And fragile skin

Monster Ball

comments 6
Poetry
Slowly, slowly,
You approach me
Little creature
Of the night

I behold those
Fancy feelings
Wicked wizard
Warm at heart?

Slowly, slowly,
I approach you
Please don’t bite me
Let me roam free

Lion tamer
Suave enchanter
Got seduced by
Your spider fang

Softly gifting
Piercing heartaches
Wicked creature
Golden night

Slowly, slowly,
You reproach me
Swift-tonged monster
Full of might

I might leave this
Fancy figment,
Feathered, foamed,
Velvet stream at heart

I still dream, YouWondrous creature,
Would come, 
slowly, 

a n d

S   o   f   t   l   y  ,


D    a    r    k    -  v    e    i    l    e    d  ,



B                     I                    T                   E .

Poem Interruptus

comments 16
Poetry
I often feel flustered
with your never-ending
sweet-toothed verses

You are endowed
with some greatly
magical tricks

Yet your poem interruptus
meter often leaves me
all cold and bothered

Fact is, I'll never get
sonnet-pregnant
with your words

'Cause you always
pull out your rhymes
at the very last minute

There is never enough time
to come into ode-full
moans and sighs

My daylight dreams
are all flustered and
my imagination drawn
to ecstatic snippets

Lest it get too desirous
of your malicious,
yet infectiously 
mellifluous ballads

Oh boy—
this 
poem 
interruptus
Of yours