cigarette kisses

invite it in, breath in deep
you got time to think if your being a tool
you give kisses
cigarette kisses

little traces of, cling to your skin
i breath in your smoke as it trails within
me im smoking through
your cigarette kisses

deadly and poison you lift me with danger
i smile at your misty eyes
you breath out smoke and come close again
with your cigarette kisses

A poem : For the Dragon

And when i say i love you, i can't help but know i lie
beneath this faded relationship, you make me want to die.
The natural need and love i felt has fled me i'm detached
my dreams released and let to fly the lock has been unlatched.
I know i shouldnt feel this way, this hate should not be real
but i cant help answer my heart and live to what i feel.
i clench my teeth and draw my sword its like a constant war
my mother you are helpless ive tried many times before.
i tried to become friends and i tried to converse
but the situation grew and our distance got worse.
we go through stages where we pretend to be friends
but the play only lasts on your mood which depends
the time of the month and the time of the year
i cant wait till i leave, escape this life i have no fear.

almost dreamlike when i fell your tribal drum next to my hummingbird flutter.

Here i am,

in an origami house of paper, dreading the rain but longing for the freshness of the downpour. littering the floor are my tissue roses, the house is getting too crowded for me because im growing rapidly. I can see the pink sky outside marking the evening. The fairy light stars blink at me in a lethargic manner as if enticing me to sleep, but i can't.

There is a balloon in my stomach that feels that its expanding by the moment.

Theres a hummingbird in my chest thats drumming against my rib cage and silence in my head.

No little girl screaming, no little girl dying, just silence, making room for the Indian drum pattern made by the birds in my heart. My feet are green, a fresh garden green with little red flowers weaving up around my ankles, when i walk there is a swoosh. My legs are bare and my pelvis also. Hanging around my neck in a relaxed manner is necklace of flowers, meeting with my hair and reaching my crown with a halo of daisies. My blonde hair cascades in loose waves making my body the perfect house for a family of fairies to live. Dancing in the wallow of the moon under the fuchsia marshmellow sky's natural light bulbs. Leaping into the air with a weightless bounce i fall into the light brown arms of a man who has changed me. For the better i am now walking with open eyes, now they are open i see him and who i am when i am with him not only has evolved but who i am because of him. I am but the same, but i can now see the attributes. And when we are as close as lipstick, when our breath is one, and

i want you beside me

i feel the tribal bass next to my hummingbird's flutter, i see this fuchsia sky and remember who i am. Who i want to be. Who i can be.

Progress?....

HAPPINESS .... is creeping into my bloodstream.

A new sun has walked into my life.....

-warmer to my touch

-bright to keep the shadows at bay

-makes me smile when its dark and gloomy

-tigglish

-tall and broard like a tree to protect me when i let it

My SUN.

Smile like you mean..

Suicide blonde haunts me as my eyes burn red with anger.

Why can't i be happy?

Why can't i live under a permanent sun, where i don't have 2 horsemen on my back pushing me forward in the direction they want.

Im living in a personal hell where everything i see is in colour and i can admire things in their beauty, but all i can feel and touch is black and white, cold and solid.

The warmth that cascades down my cheeks reminds me of what i strive not to be.

In my head there are pictures of laughter and colour and rainbows and turets.

In my heart there is nothing, the puncture wound cupid shot has let leak all the substance within me.

Now all i am is a shell.

I am so desperatly trying to be that girl, the one who matches my personality but all i seem to do is get further and further away.

Im lost in my selfish self sinking in my own venom.

Tuesdays mood.

The teacup in which i am sitting is painted in the most amazing colours, bright stars, castles and turets, turtles and tropical fish, dancing among the swirls of pinks and blues. But i sit in the dregs of tuesday's coffee, in black and white. My skin is pale and the slashes are visable to the naked eye, im so white that you can see through to my heart like an x-ray. Shivering in the cold coffee i call out for the girl about to finnish her drink to stop, to save me..thrashing about, treading water, i can see that its not going to end very well.

..here goes today...and yesterday..and tomorow..

How to describe my mind:

Castles and fairies, books and tree-spirits, turrets, scrapbooks, sunshine and waves. A collision of crayola crayons exploding in the sky. Music, colour and words feed my dreams and litter each corner of my scatter brain. But each room holds a sinister shadow, a superhero secret haunting and poisoning each thought with pessimism and doubt. But every soul that enters my life i treasure because they leave a warmth and light that their personal sunshines come with. They chase away the night terrors that seep into the walls of my Pandora's box of a brain.

Once upon a time, a boy asked me to describe my mind. This was my reply. He told me that i should post it on here, and so here it is. But my mind is not what is currently buzzing through my thoughts currently. A boy. A boy? A boy! A boy. A man. How did i let this happen? Have i actually let it happen? I guess i already have. Let the turmoil commence. Pessimism is gurgling in my blood but it seems as if the sun is melting the worries away and submitting the doubts to a mere murmer on my shoulder.

Who? What? Where? When?

I have no bloody idea. He seems to have popped up and out of my dreams, he appears too perfect for my liking, hence the underlying absence of optimistic, naive jargon of a love-drunk teen.

I will risk it.

Bob Marley said once that ''Everyone is bound to hurt you, you've just got to find the ones worth suffering for'' [or something like that]

And so i lead a life of search, ill ride the waves, ill tumble and stumble my way through heartache until i find the ending and wish God that i regret nothing. For who wants to live a life of ''what if's'' ........

Anger tears presenting my fears

I dont want to let these tears fall. Even though they are clogging up my vision, i refuse to let them gulp down my cheeks. I cry in anger. She has made me this way. And as my chin trembles i think of what i want. I dont want to cry over her. Over her words. Over her looks. I dont want to become her. Become her bitterness. Become her idiocy.
I dont want to be somebody. I just simply want to be me. No one else. Just happy. Im not looking for happiness anywhere else other than in myself. Where else will i find something that gets me so right? Im cold with anger. I want to tear and shred and rip and smash everything i see. I hate this chain she has around me. I just want to break free. I just want to be. I just want to be me.

you want to hear?

Scream. i want to SCREAM! i want to shout out and let it out and finally rest in peace.

You. Your driving me CRAZY! you wont let me live, constantly there and i cant just forgive.

Take. you've TAKEN every last part of me thats worth anything, im just an empty box.

Cry. i cant even cry anymore because you've left me no more TEARS which arn't full of self pity.

the crows sit on my chest.

i'm lying in a cave with my bare chest facing up
the dangers ahead are labled and im lining my self straight up

one for love

another for sorrow

one for life

another tomorow

running to the corner my bare feet skating along loose stones
i hurl myself against the wall and let my emotions implode.
toes curled, fists clenched, eyes drowned, helplessness quenched.

what am i doing, this isnt my land

im walking with the runners

im swimming on the sand.

trying to sleep next to the fireworks just doesnt work
the colours and sounds fill my eyes and ears
included in the sight excluded from the fight
am i too small, am i missing a chromazone
is there something in my genetics
that explains my pathetics

hole in my heart, hole in my heart
made with an arrow made with a dart
cupid shot was limp
the angels forgot to make me a pair
but as i lived to believe it was unfair

i live to live with it.

i live to live with out it.

how high can i fly. my feet still drag along the ground and im constantly yearning to climb the clouds, reaching for the air. theres something in me that is dead, something that is rotting with time, turning my touch sour, spilling out through my troubled words. i stare into space and sometimes i just, just don't see anything at all. its like i cant start my life rolling again. my once dormant feeling are errupting and theres know one to live it, no one to feel its heat or to watch its beauty.

i have already left this boat. i dived off deck into this turmulous sea. the dark waves engulfing me in a place where i cant see anything even if i wanted to. where i am constantly held.

i am writing this in my living room on the laptop, my parents are sitting in the same room. tears are welling in my eyes and i just want to run.


this hurts so much. its killing my last atoms, cells whatever you say i am made from. i am breaking down, composting, crumbling into the soil beneath me.

the then and now...

i want you to kiss my eyelids.
fold my worries in to oregami paper planes,
and fly them through the air. far away from us.

i want to put my ear to your chest and
feel
the jungle tribe drums thunderthrough my memories.

i want you to take my lip between your teeth and
taste
my sea salty dreams sprinkled with sunshine.



the rain forest lightening flashed before my eyes
the thunder growled from my teeth when...
when you opened your cover and i read the pages the thoughts that railed through my mind..

the full speed train crashing in to my fantasies.

the plane tumbling as the engines fail to regain air time.

humph. it's my mother's birthday today. and once again she manages to put a downer on everything. its as if nothing is EVER good enough for her. we try to make things special and different but she just throws it back in our faces with 'why did you bother'. its her birthday and she is determined to spend it with a frown on her face bringing my mellow down and shooting my blimp of happiness. but i wont let her. i wont let her drag me beneath the surface, i wont let her make me feel less, i wont. its put me in one of those moods where i want to cry and scream in to a pillow, where i want to tear out my hair, off my clothes and run through the streets and not stop until i am shot. its made me want to close my eyes and fall into a deep sleep where i dont have to wake up. EVER.


if i could be anywhere with anyone doing anything. within a click of my fingers i know what i would choose. up in the sky on my own free falling. no guarantees. just me and the world rushing past me. the sea below me. anything i say these days is either in a singsong voice full of daisy's or a growl.

im spinning and spinning and i just cant stop, because i have that feeling in my stomach again. making me sick. making me want to tear my lungs out. theres a cancer growing in my thoughts and its polluting everything. a dark cloud hovering over anything and everything. its like im running and running through a forest, with twigs cutting and slicing my bare body, thorns twisting in my side, moss underfoot staining each step i take. theres no signs here for me, no red carpet to walk along, just me and my rushing blood tainting the earth with my dripping blood. i can see eyes looking at me, yellow with hunger hidden behind wooden trees, i can hear the silent hum of z's aiming there attack. crawling along the crypt, laden with bones i want to lay down to turn off. to switch off. to go.




im behind that door with the number 6 on it. in a room with red walls and nothing. crouched in the corner i close my eyes and listen. the hum is back. i can feel the pressure in my ears. i can feel the person inside me struggling to open the door, to get out to smell fresh air to be. but i push her back down and choke. choke on my insecurity. choke on my fears.

A poem: For Bruce

drip, drip, drop, little april showers.
melted rays of happiness tinkle on our shoulders.
take cover under giant, peaceful trees,

the silence can bring us to our knees.

i met you, after you met me.

music drawn the intrest in our beings, entwined a conversation,

provoking common ground.

quick stepped, hip shakin', baby makin, salsa dance.

under the lightening doused sky,

in a boat, you sit palms up. Floating

in your own content. gutteral music growing

UP towards the dreams of day.

i once said you had eyes like pete,

vulnerable, big and brown.

they soar with dreams, take flight beneath the halo of sun light.

his pertruding eyesight.

buzzing, and buzzing, the flavour of your past,

soaked into your skin and your voice,

melting the words you say with a twaaang.

covering me with a warm salty air.

...t.b.c

A poem: For Lamb

There's me.

And then there is you.

worlds apart in sense of being

yet as close as a fingernail we seem.

A friendship built on nothing worth seeing.

Just clouds and skates and water fights.

Just make-shift adverts and

dances on the landing.

A sister, an extra, a family member for sure.
For i can talk to you whilst on the loo
and not bother with the door.

I can tell you the things that i dont want to hear myself.

Because it feels like you've already seen them,

jolting nervously from my left ear to the right.

you to me are a flower to a bee.
A glove to a hand and an amp to the band.
Essential to my happiness i need you in my life.

A soul sistah. Because our friendship means more than substance.

Its air.

Its vital.

Its that of soul sistahs'.

The bed we loved in was a spinning world
of forests, castles, torchlight, clifftops, seas.
where he would dive for pearls
my lovers words were shooting stars
which fell to earth as kisses on these lips
my body now a softer rhyme to his
now echo, assonance, his touch.
a verb dancing in the centre of a noun
some nights i dreamed he'd written me
a page beneath his writer's hands.
romance and drama played by touch, scent by taste.
in the other bed, the best our guests dozed on.
dribbling their prose
my living laughing love
i hold him in the casket of my widows head.
as he held me upon that next best bed

poem by carolanne duffy. 'anne hathaway'

i love this poem so much i want to share it with the world.
its like sex on a page. It is sex on a page.

Written on the night i couldn't sleep. At all.

I am a dust dote.

Fluttering through the thick summer air.

Tumbling and toiling into this and that, no real direction to follow.

No arroe to guide me north, south or east.

Just mezmerised by the view of life from this angle,

so vulnerable and troubled.

I toil at the idea of falling from my westerly wind,

drifting me towards my new home.

So frightened of the landing that i keep myself high.

Hovering above the flames,

which light me a thousand colours.

I explode into nothing.

Falling.

I snuck out of the house today, whilst my parents were watching tv. I donned on my cowboy boots, slipped my lighter in my pocket, slowly, so very slowly i opened the creaky door to the porch.

eep.

Clunk.

I paused waited for the 'hello?!' nothing.

Then to the master door. The biggie. No problemo (:

Im free. FREEEEEEE! Like a kid on blue smarties im outathere......

With my notebook and fountain pen i run along the road to my log.

My place of rest of happiness of joy of solitude.

My log.

As i lit up a smoke i rested my head against the log and dreamt............

....crouching like a tiger in the grass i wait for my moment to pounce. The sun is yawning on me, toasting my arms and the back of my neck. I can see his chest raising and falling and thats when i leap.

up

up

up in the air

down

down

down beside him i roll neatly into his side and play with his hand.
He is used to my childish behaviour.

no

no

no scrap that, i tear open my notebook and try to think of something else. something more profound.

Trying to think of something worthwhile rather than to ruin this piece of perfect plain white page. Nothing comes to mind other than peals of laughter, yours and mine, combined, entwined in the air, raining on my thoughts.

''STOP IT!!!!''

your polluting my everyday actions with attractive thoughts of you.

Quite frankly your drawing me in and im on the edge of the cliff.

Push me any further and im dead set and bound to fall.

down

down

down

In love.

with you.

Cheers Bucko :\

A poem: for Olive

2 ponds, 2 babies.
You are the ying to my yang.
Causing havoc, running amok round beaches to fields.
A blob of Blondie and a brown bob, 2 dots darting from adventure to the next.

'lets swim' - 'its too cold' - 'the kettle?' - 'awsome...!'

The Bath. A whole bottle of dreams emptied into our Mediterranean sea.
Where we scuba-dived for lost treasures and found each others foot.

Mission impossible: under the security beams that clinked when you touched them.
down the slippery steps of ice. Into the chamber of leisure. And back again.

Shoot. I dont have a dvd player anymore. Shoot.

Growing up with screams and tantrums. The rebellious hippies.
Tearing through our teenage years dragging our loaded past behind us like a boulder round our ankles. Parents never forget.

You my drop of spanish gold are a friend i shall treasure. For even though we are separated by a sea i know you suffer your own raging storms too and we are in the same pea green rowing boat, trying to make it to the otherside.

Rejection

This time i tried walking slowly, climbing the steps i took great care
but once again i stumbled and fell
one
two
three steps through the air
the air was thin and clear and bright
i saw ahead but it was a mirage
i've been sitting on the bottom rung for so long that i am parched of affection

rejection

maybe i need a hand to hold
to guide me up each meter high
stepping stone. Why oh why am i crippled? Is that why i am
left?

Soothing my sores, my lumps and bumps on the ground i wonder
is this where i am meant to be? Do i belong up there?
Amoung the women.

Girl. Just a Girl. GIRL.
flat chested, small minded, virginial science project under the bell jar.