The unblinking eyes of Killer
glazed with thought in the dark
Thinking thoughts of blackness
of the director of this park

Pre-teens are in favor here
he likes them young and tender
He's supposed to be a good man
Take care of this social-center

Now suddenly, the silence is broken
There are sobs of pain and shame
Whispers of consolation
to a child that will be un-named

In the cover of darkness
no sheets are needed
to cover shyness
the nude postures
provide the clue,
am I the one to do?
what one has to do?

Rise my little friend,
the sunrise is yet far away
let’s into the wilderness of mirages stray
and
let mine not betray,
nor hers go astray.
We shall make hay
under the dim lights
if you so say,

In the cover of darkness
no sheets are needed
to cover shyness

I’ve seen and breathed and felt
The wood-works
The earthworks
The weavings
The paintings
And the writings
Project images of realities
And my heart pounded countless times
And restless like a heated desire
That makes me yearn to journey more
Into the past, and the present
And the days yet to dawn upon our moor
With the beauties of these hands
Mentored by the mind's eyes.
This heated desire
Is a true journey to an origin
Of a magic world hidden inside us.

I reach for the edges to hold on,
faux paint in tawny yellow,
Nordic blue, forever-green and lipstick red, sliding off
my roguish tongue. Rancid now but I
keep swallowing colours and their shadows
off my dining room wall. Some paintings
are framed and never move.

The autumn leaf in me dries
it’s now merged
with the soil of time
under the debris of eternity.

The winds can't upsurge,
nor can earthquakes part,
nothing in life can unite,
torn feathers so far apart,
once they are,
separated forever..

the vestige of hope
like an autumn leaf
in me withers,
now submerged
under piles of memories
once greened,
in sunshine

Night-time stride beneath fair moon-light,
looking left, the ocean rocking,
breaks white sprays on hilly shores.
Endless wavelets course the docks.

Warring thoughts, something’s not right here...
Past the docks I spy some buildings.
Amber lights reveal a scurry.
Dream feet flight, I’m instantly there.

Hundreds flee, in hurried fashion,
signalling to trail their lead.
Dread is heavy, as a sickness;
can’t shake this feel we all may die!

Treading in the mucus of the lungs of despair
A child blindly splashing around
Franticly trying to generate enough noise for any passersby to notice
Alas, no one does
Plummeting to the bottom
Succumbing to this tormented inadequacy
Using the toxic lung butter of fear
To spread on the moldy bread of self deception
It feeds my insanity that no better life exist
I’m dying a slow starving death
Emaciated from a life spent without emotion
It is the bread killing me
But I do not know it

as in "Dune"
the dreamer has awakened
to new realities
because of you
your delicate touch
bringing fresh sight
and sharpened perception
to my guarded world
I was once a vagabond
skimming my way
across my life
not getting involved
taking no chances
many close encounters
decided my path
of flight from
dreaded relations
I would only lightly
briefly touch down
on one night stands
but more often than not
preferring my own company

Step outside, feel,the sharp air across your cheek.
move forward, sensory overload
Expelled into the universe..

Explode hurtle into society, be free
Thrust, penetrate the world .
Fuck it into reality.

Blow away all obstacles 
Dominate, smack it into submission
Live each day like there will never be another.

He danced on Love’s fiery coals
their heat exciting his heart
as Lent lilies by Wind’s tune.
His quill mercilessly bled
lucid verse on his ardour;
and his violin’s serenades
infused night’s serene quiescence.

Ah, but this cruel absence
his sanity now pervades
and strips his heart to the core.
Yet he by Love’s promise led-
drawn into approaching monsoon-
yields and partakes of the hurt
as no memory recalls.

Head bowed, he’ll stand- in his hand,
a lonely withered camellia.