Rain and wind 

​And now while the wind blows the last specks of a rainshower,  My face freckled in bliss and distracted reality,  I know I have a mind to carry and a heart too heavy,  But it's the soul that speaks and needs me to stay another second before I go A second for a single thought…

Bloody affair 

​And you slid down the silk of my throat,  Your eyes were cool, and your steel too bare,  I said:  All blood thine, oh the lover of my flesh, Cradle me close,  Hide this bloody affair. Painting by Simone Pignone

Close 

In blankets of deep bliss I would lay undone in a mess Of words, of tears and smiles alike A bundle of life, undressed. . Encased in the depths of you, And clutched between your arm my broken pieces safely tucked Melt into one, away from harm. . Buried pain recovers to weep And seep…

The dose

A thousand words endeared again  To a rusted pen and a poet's muse. Withering verses settled in synchrony  Within reason and thought's contours. Vagrant, vacant words sound More sense than their silences.  These quartets cohere to meanings  And flit in familiar nuances. The flux of flowing thought  The flutter of a shy and queer emotion …

A walk…

Walking through me Is a form of myself Utterly lost, and searching. Looking for nothing. Walking through me I find muses strewn In sighs and tears Betrayed and broken. Talking of nothing. Walking through me In the flow of my blood I miss the drift of warmth Of love. All lost for nothing. Walking through…

These hidden verses

Here is all that we can't say. To the stories that simply stay confined to our hearts and heads. To the unspeakable emotions. To the pain not uttered of. To the love that is hidden deep in longing.  Here is to the inarticulate imagery that is painted upon our souls.  Here is to all of…

A grave of guilt 

A truth was buried in the grave of guilt  And covered in the soil of sin  Lies planted upon the earthly disguise Branched out and rooted in... . Shone the Fruit upon the glint of sun, From prettiest flowers, coloured to lure The eyes and minds of innocent hearts And seed in them the lust…

Another midnight musing…

​Here is another midnight indulgence of my insctrutible thoughts that infest my sleep-laden eyes tonight..  When all these yeux dream sweet And peace is settled upon their temples  I watch as pity is scrunched on my brow Where an unwept longing tramples.  To be wept or to be a muse This night is indecisive  Of…

In love, and out of it.. 

I'm again rusty with poetry but dying to express too Sometimes...  You just want to be known. You want your love to be held and cherished... To be deserving the arms of warmth and reciprocation.  But at the end of the day... All you really do is compose a bit of broken words... Not worth…