It’s the weighted chest pain

That’s hardest to explain 

The interwoven, the lingering

It spins a web across every day

It’s the fog you learn to see through

Because you can’t get away 

Never the needle in your eye

The thorn in your side

It’s the routine of soft pain 

The clingy sting for life 

It’s the dull ache

Freedom, but on a leash

Your mother's kiss with tee...

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THE LAMENT CONFIGURATION

_________________________

Time to play.

You find an unusual relic.

A golden puzzle box of unknown origin.

You hold it in both hands.

Turn a corner, turn another and another.

You feel the slice of a blade

In the palm of your hand. Drop the box--

Which lifts, changes shape. The puzzle solves itself.

Plays a short tune. The wall sp...

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Chains of Capture

Deepest darkest nightmares
But only if you knew
The lengths that I have taken
To hide away the truth
The scars are slowly fading
But the pain runs deep inside
Some say that I'm outspoken
But they don’t see the things I hide
The questions left unanswered
Constantly running through my head
The ‘what if’s’ again resurfaced
That I’d thought I’d put to bed
My demons is ...

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Real love is life threatening 

It’s not serene, sweet, dream love

It’s not romantic, rainbow love

No

True love is torture 

Gut wrenching pain

Hands and knees, love 

Need it to breathe, love 

It’s enough to put you away, love 

But never pull you away, love 

It’s masochistically addictive 

It titillates and irritates

Possesses every bit 

Until you have a fit

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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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Eyes and lips
which
blossom from your carved face,
sugar skull, sherbert fizz.
To Mr, from Mz,
we really wanted to fuck this.
Turned my brain insane,
my tongue inside
out.

Caught in fog,
in haze, like cloudy lemonade;
a gaze, let's misbehave.
Infatuated,
I won't make it.
Too intense:
this forever pretence,
can't do more pretend.
Beg.

Take a hot hit,
bit by bit,
I got...

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I liar, that’s what I am

I roll my dice from in my hand

I sit upon my throne

Forged from pain

broken promises, pretty lies

They’re all the same

traction, I’m unable to gain

I’m slowly slipping into my old ways

I was getting better

Now it’s worse

Every Name I hear, I curse

But hers’

I cannot do that

she is perfect

she is sweet

I lay my life at her feet

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Warfare rages, blood pressure races, worry lines etch into our faces

Predictability always soothes

So we turn our glaikit eyes to you

A saviour decked in red, white and blue

Be our hero, Mr Twee.

Crashing chords in minor keys

Experimental creativity

Please god - spare us all of these!

For our stilted minds cannot compute

Unfamiliar jarring tunes

Blandness is the ...

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