I want to scream
and throw this ghost
against the frieze of walls
shatter like a fresco

But its ivy
is rippling in the wind
of your voice

You;ve awoken
the mobile
the inert
the resting
sleep

Its dreamlight
this sky is wrong

THe Blue Period
gushing
like a high
its heat in the arms
where we never
spent
a day
a minute

I am dressed
flipping a zippo
with a thumb
and fingers

Laughing Annabel did not see Urilla's twitching fingers
Mog will never be defeated so easily after surviving for many years
it is easy for him to enter or leave a host's body
before death claims the human soul for eternity

The deranged killer learns the truth when Mog strike
with a great roar, he impaled her back and her body grow slack
Annabel's corpse fell off the horse, a fitting end for a killer without remorse
Mog left Urilla's body to hunt anew seeking another who's just as cruel

Which guy can
estrogen make
without balls,
do say
Adrenalin still flows my way
I have lost all counts
so do not dismay
life now slowly
but gradually ebbs away
you are not alone
going out of your way
sans all
so for a while longer do stay
time's journey is not yet out
that I can say
show your entire pathway
as Neopoets ask you to linger
if you may
we all look at you
without your saying look at me
what will Neo
without you be?
Cheers, we all will miss

this shitty plastic money feels as fake as life
sometimes
fluttering down sprung from the wallet
crescent off the hip

Hopelessly awkward
these bastards hands
no matter how refined I try

In the paper are your trips
folded like Origami
a boring fold

Bend down to run your hands
dexterous and beautiful
on the old machine
Olivetti

I would have died to have
gotten it
and having it
I wrote not a word

your eyes spied it
my reward
You before me
squatting
cooing

Simply a poet
I am an ordinary poet
read by many friends and well wishers
across the globe...
why should I join a competition?
what for?
money and fame are like wax of a candle
tis the flame alone
which gives warmth and recognition
it gives light and comfort at all times
from births to temples, churches, monasteries
and
finally the grave
some intellectual’s poor ones
read under the candle light
so all I wish to do
is to thank you for reading me too...
a poet out of the blue!

By the light of the waning moon
Sat I once again to soon
I would see the light of dawn
Leaking through the tattered clouds

A heart asunder with tears Unshed
For its to that quiet place
My dark twisted thoughts have fled
Dark. Self loathing. Destructive threads

Branching out to strangle my soul
To plunder what's left of joy
To tear apart any rememant of a smile
For once I've walked more than a mile

There once was a girl named Miscomical
who played with long things anatomical.
She pulled on the rods
as if praying to Gods
and she tugged on the rods nigh fanatical.

The City of Stone with its tall structures,
stands proud like a great fortress,
decorated with complex designs
in a variety of colours and signs.

Somewhere in the passage of time,
its soul turns into a poem without rhyme
the peoples' dreams and aspirations,
imprisoned by men of many ambitions

They hold the reins of power,
silencing the voice in others
oppressing and dictating
blind to another's reasoning

What a night! Riding off with Urilla's body
Beneath a blood drenched sky!
The demon was upon us or so they thought
Imaginations really played their part!

They never knew it was me, too busy worrying about my sexuality.
Back home, I was James Alastair, beloved detective and friend
When the bodies showed up, the Headless Horseman was born
Investigating my own crime scenes.
I was the one, feared almost as much as the Ripper himself.