Monthly Archives: March 2013

My sweet most precious treasure
Purest heart of innocence,
A million dragons, jaws of fiery rage
All cowered rapt in mercy
Scorched and charred, no match
So powerful is the love I hold
For you, My son.

My pure, dear, tender man child,
Sweetest lips of sugared gossamer,
A thousand witches, ranting wildly, wicked,
Hellfire burning, chants a screeching,
Shrivelled, spellbound, cast beyond,
No match for full heart
Of a mothers love, my child.

My darling, dear heart youth,
Precious eyes of tourmaline,
A hundred monsters, ravenous and jawing
Clawing, flesh-hunt crawling,
Banished into kingdom come
By the fearsome hunger of
A mother’s love, my son.

My cherished, loving one,
Shimmering halo of iridescence,
A trillion kisses, a billion wishes
Of sweetness and sugar and candyfloss fluffiness,
Angels on cupcakes in clouds of marshmallow,
Here lies the story, the kingdom, the power,
A mothers love, my son.

The one and only time I ever tried magic mushrooms!!! Oh the follies of youth…

I remember that night,
That night the mushrooms
Of a magical persuasion
Slipped innocuously into
The mystical broth,
Ye olde vege soupe.
The buzz, the sheer naughtiness,
Too good for taboo,
Respectable parents,
So what would they think?
Sipping and slurping
That magical potion,
Tickling tonsils and
Trickling funny juiced
Funnybones. Working its
Way into stomachs,
Then blending its magical
Techno surprise.
Colours of splendid fine
Rainbows asparkling,
churning a whirling
Mad shapes, this craziness
Could be addictive,
So slip me more potion
So I can get lost
in that play gay ground
Inside my head.

I was just that child,
That human thing so fragile,
Bud which shakes in fear
Of blooming into splendour,
Fearful of my light.

I was just that child,
All bottled up and strangled,
Optimism snuffed out like
Choked laughter, kill
That happy, happy joy.

I was just that child,
In corners cowering,
The hollowness of all my tears
Cascading into pools of
Just invisible, all nowhere.

I was just that child,
My dreams and fantasies
Paraded in a stream of
Vicious parody, stupidity,
Cheap dreams, ten a dime.

I was just that child,
That ray of hope within,
Refused to let the demons down me,
Crush me, rising from the ashes
Shining Phoenix child.

Oh to reach beyond the veil
Of death,
It’s frozen, deadly shiver grasp,
Of ice-cold, gripping, snatching,
Vicious creeping
Snuffing out life’s lamp
Like Florence nightingale becoming blackness.
Oh to dance with death
To raise unholy mayhem
Drag the sleeping from
Their icy duvets of
Sweet dead unconscious,
Frolic, merrisome, and raise a cup
My friend to drunkeness
In death inebriated.
Oh to take death by the hand
Of love
Hot blood pumps
Passion, yearning,
Melting frozen deadness
Rivulets of new sprung life
ghost of
Love pained longing.

Longing II

Shiny were we,
Floating in a dream
Of beautiful people.
Heads popping cloud,
Light as a helium feather.
love-rapt were we,
Swept away on
A tsunami
Of stellar magnitude.
Riding the waves,
surfers on a sea
Of sexual joy-games.
Intimate were we,
Burning with a
All ravenous and insatiated.
A last iconic supper,
Temptations sumptuous platter.
Yearning I am,
Curling into
Swallowed by the past.
Bubble not for bursting,
Not yet, not now.

I want to lose myself
I want to forget that I am.
I want nothing less
Than everything, always.

I want to be the ocean
I want to sink into oblivion
Like an innocuous anchor
Lunging towards the seabed.
I want to float in the sea of anonymity
Conspicuous yet no one.

I want to be the bubble
That amuses the baby
Then pops into non existence.
I want to fly, hurtling towards the sun
Like Icarus, to be consumed
By its fiery flares.

I want to crawl back under my stone,
Into that safe harbour of my past
And us, my love.
I want now-ness in yesterday
I want it back
I want us. Again.

I knew it was you, my love
from a place even deeper than
the tides of the oceans
of insane love
and lust.

I didn’t spy your face, my love
’twas veiled beneath a mask
of superficial happiness
yet forever emblazened
on a place beyond my eyes.

I couldn’t hear your words, my love
yet their gentle notes resounded
echoing like a child’s
bouncing on the breeze.

I couldn’t feel your
touch, my love
yet your eager fingers found their path
like the taste of
the last Turkish Delight
in the icing-sugared box.

I couldn’t smell your scent my love,
but knew its delicate fragrance
floating cross the ether
hints of subtle mystery,
of all manner of temptation.

Yes, I always knew it was you, my love
the adrenaline trail you left on my heart
beyond reasonable temptation
you were that
forbidden fruit
the tastiest apple on
the tree of life.

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