Roads, Rain and Mind

Rain made vague sketches of trees on the wet road.
I travelled past certainties of
a loveless life
To the unsecured disturbances of a love life.
I prefer it this way.
At least it rains, here
in one side
of the mind-
in a corner
where I hide the shame, the pride and
longing of your touch.

His favourite song

He held tight my hand
as we strolled through woods
on long misty nights
yet,
he played her his favourite song

He kissed all night
my naval so tight
yet,
he played her his favourite song

He rained on my mind
on words and
bed
yet,
He played her his favourite song

I felt so tired
of mist
of kisses
and even of tears
and longed for his favorite song

smoke

my finger nails are tobacco stained
excessive smoking

I tired painting them
with nail polish
it only stained them more

A nail has fallen off
signs of decay and death

yet it was stained
reminding me of the sunny days
out side pine smelling cinema halls

where i smoked for hours
with you

last night i turned to my lover's side
and checked his nails
fair lean fingers
nails - pale

I stopped loving him from then
And painted my nails
more
red, blue, white

Untitled

My nightmares pierce no more
The seems of my mind
They have become blunt and rusty

Though bored of repeating themselves
They recur with
The punctuality of a steno

They retype on the shriveled surface of my brain
The scripts of lost possession
Of lost intimacies of love making

In the dawn
They slide through my mind
Flow through my veins
And ooze out of my vagina

I fear no more
An imminent morning sickness
A month goes by
Trotting.

One Night, A Kill / Verse scattered on Christmas Eve

A bleeding rose
Froze to a memory in the dusk

The end game of love
Seeping essence of pain
Sucked from mouth to mouth

Roses do not bloom in the apple orchard
Were good and evil dwell
The snow is thick
The lilting tune of an old carol half sung
Blurs in the fog

One night,
A kill
A heart be mourns the demise of a dream

A wreath of plain white roses
Decays on a hearse
A hymn chocks in the throat

The baby slept well in a frozen womb
Refusing to be born
A starless night followed

A Sooty Night

A night was all that it took
To crush to ruins
What was built
On the premise of love and lust

He left
Leaving behind
A broken Wine glass
Blown out candles
A whining record
And a twisted hand


A shadow receded
To the untouched canvas
And drew a few Shaky sketches


Mountains, springs
Valleys and vacations
And all that seem real
Were nothing
But a portrait
Charcoal On Canvas