I hold her and she holds me,

It's something ecstatic, 

But I wouldn't call it glee,

It's a feeling of contentment, 

Mixed up with delight,

Like a joyful reflection, 

When I hold her tight.


I forget and I remember,

I lose track of my mind,

But it has nowhere to be,

It has nothing to find,

It's here, I'm here,

In this embrace, 

And I wouldn't want to be, 


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She wears corduroy pants, 

Over her shitty old boots,

She wears a plain tank top,

Under a jacket that suits,

Her earrings are quirky, 

And her hair is worn down, 

It would seem out of place, 

To imagine her frown.


I like the way she smiles,

When I tell her she's cute,

I need to convince her,

That there is no dispute, 

She is sunshine to me,

I hope she ca...

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There once was a crocodile,

Who forgot how to smile,

She could open her mouth,

And show all her teeth,

But could not convey,

The feelings beneath, 


The children would run,

The adults would scare,

And ev'ry attempt,

Deepened her despair, 


Twas not till the day,

She got a diagnosis, 

And realised it was all,

Because of her halitosis.

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If Poetry is to be Like Fire

Idle voices do not rise,

For active ears do not prize,

Words that have not got a fire,

Words that make the waking tire.


There is no want for passive verses,

Carrying weight like sombre hearses,

There is a need for thoughts attended,

Brought to life like winter’s ended.


Then in the springtime flowers bloom,

Out of darkness, out of gloom,

They seize the light...

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[Redacted] broke up with me tonight 

By message 

It was sudden and definite

Inside, I collapsed

Outside, I fell to the floor

But strangely

At the moment before I hit the floor

My arms stuck out to stop me

It was reassuring, somehow

That I had an inextinguishable will to live

Despite my feelings to the contrary 

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A one night stand

To then prolong

A week was all

Now apart

The flames were fanned

We know it’s wrong

Long distance call

Now in heart

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Lover, You Should've Come Over

I like these Jeff Buckley lyrics so much, I feel they should be appreciated amongst poetry. 


Looking out the door
I see the rain fall upon the funeral mourners
Parading in a wake of sad relations
As their shoes fill up with water
Maybe I'm too young
To keep good love from going wrong
But tonight you're on my mind so
You'll never know

Broken down and hungry for your love
With no ...

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Go For It

Love ain't shit if it ain't a little reckless

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People Don't Like Me, Then They Do; Or They Don't

Through such a personality, as that which I have come to occupy, the depth of feeling I am afforded is at the cost of an abrasive surface; and that is a compromise I accept.

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True pride in a creative work,

I believe, 

Is not to merely be able to say,

'I did this'

But rather,

'This is me'


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Love is a verb,

An act, a choice,

That choice,

So profound,

Beyond feeling,

Beyond emotion,


Quite spectacular, 

That word,

In our vernacular, 

Somewhat absurd,


How it's meanings are so far between

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Hopeless Heart

To the lover not yet known,
To the feelings not yet shown,
Of the heart kept in waiting,
Of the dreams slowly fading,
It is the romance yet to be,
That takes a hold of me,
Quite unfortunately so,
As spirits remain low,
For reality slaps my face,
With the hopelessness of my case,


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Gravity To Thought

Thoughts to writing,

Thoughts to speech,

Are, if you will,

A ball rolling down a hill,


The hill is my mind,

Consciousness is the shovel,

Ideas the furrows,


Ponder one way,

Be a channel,

Lose heart,

Be a hole,


I stand atop the hill,

A spark,

I release the ball,



It's path dictated,

Ever dictated,

Carried down ideas pa...

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Why I Hate Moths

The moth, I disdain

It needn't cause me pain

Harmless it may be

With no venom to me

It flies into my face

No pattern, no grace

A pitiable creature

In purpose and feature


For I cannot detect

A trait to respect

The spider spins its yarn

Across a lofty barn

And the bee does strive

To provide for its hive

But the moth helps none

As Icarus to the sun

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Fallen from lofty heights
Sodden on dewy nights
Disregarded underfoot
Fated to become soot
If we decide to utilise
This wood of meagre size
To be the start
Around the heart
To be the fuel
To fight the cool
That cool of the room
The dull, the gloom
Is begun
To be overcome
When the spark is lit
In the ashy pit

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I want to hold her hand,

Nothing more than that,

Just sit by her side and,

Do little more than chat,


Am I supposed to pursue her,

Just to have sex?

To play the romancer,

As an elaborate pretext?


I don’t want that version,

Love without care,

An empty immersion,

Only physically to share,


That sexual attraction,

I can hardly ignore,

But it’s on...

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Ever passing without remorse,

Leaves me grasping with all my force,

It seeks to drain me!

It seeks nothing at all,


My hopes do fall,


For each day does go,

And I have little to show,

All that could have been,

Many chances never seen,

I know regret is useless,

I cannot change, only express,


That the future,

It seems to skip me,


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I lift my feet up to the height
In succession upon this flight
I rarely ponder this improvement
That aids my steady uphill movement
I stop
I look around
I focus in
On that constant sound
Many steps are being trodden
With the process being forgotten
All these people escalating
Faces up, never breaking
Gazes fixed straight ahead
Little care of where they tread

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Prose about Her

 She is a beautiful woman, my mind is taken by her. But this is not the first time I have fallen to fancy. I tend to exaggerate in a longing for romance; yes, I could list many superlatives about her. But what would that say? Really, nothing might happen. She might love someone else. I might love someone else. Then this desire to potray her, as one who is ideal, so as to be poetic, is hopeless. I ...

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