Angels Tyr

Forget the love of a billion stars as the wink upon the surface of a moons lake. Your blessing brings me my knees to buckle under the weight of the day.

Intoxicated light glimmering feathers upon my face

Soft, and flush, each a kiss from your body to mine

Reaching beyond each nerve to my soul and touching each part to heal it

Growing love, to melt into your body. Push gently, as a creeks first flowing in spring rain. Gulping then the streams supple blessing to my sounds forge.

Moonshine darkness

(Koala)

Nay the last few days had brought her better leaves than ever
Never had it seemed they where growing faster than she could eat
The big ones, with their big stomp feet had helped her find them
Stems, stalk and leaf, they crunched in her mouth, slowly to be digested in her nap

The big ones visited her and brought more leaves, so many she could not believe 
How had they found them? It had been such a struggle, all her life
Now, it was like, forests of leaves just for her, it was nice
Silently, cameras capture her subtle beauty, come to visit her, call her cutie

The moon shone upon her enclosure as she was feeling her age
Darkly, the night continues to expose shadows across the leaves 
She can’t eat as many, but they bring her more than what seems like whole trees
No more, the next night, they being no more, as she is now in the big eternal eucalyptus tree
And the moon continues to shine upon the darkness left behind 

A cup

How about a sip from my cup boy,
A simple little thing
You need not think that I am trying to real you in.

Its made from the peel of an orange and a little courage,
Not a thing you need worry about, I have no doubt
Drink it up, see its just like stout

Just a sip, thats all it takes, for the thing to have its grasp
You can’t give it a name, but it owns your soul
Give into its lure, line, hook, and in the cold
It will warm you up
Keep you high
then send you down to sigh
and start singing the simple line

How about a sip from my cup boy,
A simple little thing
You need not think that I am trying to real you in.

Sin upon sin
from within you mind
comes this desire for you to get higher
drink a little more from my cup
and you will know more about yourself than anyone could ever like

just a sip thats all it takes

will you break, will you shatter
against all the odds, will you not matter?
you try and fight it, but you soon find that another sip is all you need
you can’t deny it
just try it!

and your gone, never to be found, down into the ground
it in you now, and you can’t let it go
one thing alone can set you free, and I doubt you can pay the fee…

Scared leaves, shaking

(to the tune of Creep by Radiohead)

I can’t hear you breathing. I can’t hear my thoughts. I am close to panic. It’s all out of sorts. The poison on the water, and flames in the sky. A crane hanging dangerously, one day it will fly.

I can’t hear my heartbeat. I can’t hear your sigh. Square cogs in my engine. The hell of reality, the heaven of the night. A sunset of a civiliation, one day it will die.

It’s all a dream. A horrible nightmare. Tell me I’m going to wake soon. Tell me I’ve already died! It’s just to much to bear. This ignores all the facts. We aren’t the only ones here, but we will take them with us when we go. Go. Go. On.

Cuddle heart

Every day my heart smiles

Every place we are together

Cuddle heart

Love to hear your voice

No matter your mood

Love the feel of skin

Especially, nude

This is our place together

Joined by love, angels feathers

We’re in our cuddle heart

I hope we never part

Every day my heart smiles

Every place we are together

Cuddle heart

Love to make you breakfast

Eggs shining as the sun

Love to see you smile

Tea and some bagels too

Love inside our house

Especially, you

This is our hearts together

This is our place together

Joined by love, angels feathers

We’re in our cuddle heart

I hope we never part

Every day my heart smiles

Every place we are together

Cuddle heart

Neodymium will make lovely glass (song)

Theirs the night again, dark lights shine again

Over their the moon, and inside we swoon

Neodymium,

Will make a lovely glass

The day is just the past

Of your feelings

Neodymium,

Will make a lonely mark

On your heartless heart

I have seem it dealing

Neodymium,

Will make a lover gasp

Kissing lips and feeling

Theirs the night again, dark lights shine again

Over their the moon, and inside we swoon

 

Trinity illustration

Breeze says me

Best come in three lot

Today, tomorrow, yesterday needs

What from this do you hope to achieve?

Can you describe sixty things you have done in the past that demonstrates this?

Are you a robot?

I’m not, but I am,

the product of but social and physical learning and conditioning within…

Instead they ask

I’m a yes but I’m a no

Strong my human blood flows

Can you describe?

Describe

How

You

Are?

But I’m just one person

One thing

A object but not

Money in the bank bank

Food in my fridge

Dream it learn it be it

it it it IT

Shorts working

Saturday morning car drive

History and my sigh

Feisty gritty remake

Watch it now

Again, binge

Consume

Create

Change?

Buggy sapience

Trolley lives in a allotment empty of grace

She waits for the summer nights for her race

Trips to the arthropods doorstep

Eats lunch with the queen, oh yes

Buggy sapience

Trolley gives a simple box of nuts

Payment for protection from buggy mace

Sips tea and nods agreeing sets

Going back home to bed, so wet

Buggy sapience

Trolley takes her axe to another growth of jinx weed

Sees the nuts from it gather on grounds she is pleased

Kid, it’s not a dream, you bet

Snake queen and the devils

Flames of the devils have come among us, first tickling then stabbing at our every pore jarring it future open. Blistering blood floats to the surface bringing with it further heat as if it’s been equally possessed by demonic charge.

—-

Tightly she squeezes, the serpent of winter. Sucking all the heat from the land into her body like a black hole, scaring the landscape with her frosty tendrils, and taking with her the heat. She will lay an egg mid winter and the devils will find it with their heat and incubate it, when it hatches again her daughter will scour the land in her place. Her death and corpse will lead to spring, and be turned to ash in summer. One day though, her body will not die, her daughter will not be born, the devils will not come back, as the frost envelopes the land allowing her to suck all heat forever.

Uncomfortable history as a source, and of its addition to the pancake stack

Our uncomfortable history

Little drips of it come out

From this pancake stack some seem to want to approve of

Just plain pancakes they want and will send it back

But no matter

The chef tried to do their best

Tried to scrape it again

Mix it through twinges of pains

Lest, we forget that the place is not what we know

Replace the chef

Serve the pancakes again

Uncomfortable history first tries to drip

But can’t

The pancakes taste so plain

No one, questions if the source can ever be made again

Five bottles

Five bottles sitting in the rim

Made of earth, made of glass, spun from of wood, grown from faith, free of sin

full of the flowers of the kings, each dripping with sweet honeydew scent within

pretend they contain your deepest dreams, see the silky skin

the heat, Softness, Full to the brim

I grasp at sunlight to spread upon that skin, to bring it to life, as gaze again

Shock to my scene, a wasp comes in, hoping to score a part of this gorgeous place. It soon brings all of its friends, and they make a neat nest and again I can not be here anymore

Five bottles no longer filled to the brim

The honeydew skilled all over the rim

Spoiled earth, broken glass, burnt wood, chained faith, coated with sin

Gallery purples

Clearly the pumps down and dump. Blue of heart and pink of blood. Curse the corpse of emotions. It’s a day that strikes my evocation.

Down the waters

Flood the brain

Sea of feeling

Ocean craze

Pure or evil decision to be felt. Crying on a balloon ride beyond a joke. I’m falling in my most empty ways.

Empty of knowing

What mistake

Words have passed

Empty and alone

And here is the sleeping razor

Witch soapbox for a little mousetrap. It’s short and full of minds blooms. Dead and hard in its action, forever crystal in its hate of itself. Duality has its heart fully cooked. Like my most important rainfalls.

Drought tourism

Has taken acting lessons

Misadventure on the streets

Soft Inter Transience (song)

(intro)

Soft inter transience

Winters cold touches us

Brewing our ambience

 

(chorus)

Halt, above my heaven!

Feel, outside etherial

 

(v1)

Dance all the way to the centre of your mind

Find the inner tribe of your feelings

Just look up to the sky, the moon is sitting high

Find the inner tribe of your feelings

 

(v2)

Perfects just a word, not a place for our kind

Find the inner tribe of your feelings

You look at you, your shelling your cocoon

Find the inner tribe of your feelings

 

(v3)

Buttfly you rise, out from inside

Find the inner tribe of your feelings

Fly up, fly up high

Find the inner tribe of your feelings

Pointillism of pores

I’m sitting on our bed, watching the darkness creep across the street

Little cicadas children hatch in the roots of the trees to crawl up and I start to forestall a night of cream shrieks

out of my clothes, naked and known I wait silently anticipating

titillating

participating

the shown

I want your momentum, your dreamscapes, your flesh against mine

Sheath, shell and reap the kisses and the teeth you touch against mine. Deep inside me, heart beats like the calling, I hear this warm cicada night

Stars bloom my night orchid swoon, engorging like a harvest moon. Cicadas scream as we bloom

Upon my form of lyre, from which I do desire, comes the flanking crops

Up and too, into hear, pain into ecstasy, upon my rear

Purple, your work, draws it’s words

And now, from into your mounds to I give chase, for milk and honey tunes do I need to hear

Faces meet for a repast of lips, it’s a very nice trip, but oh what a trick

I feel your hand below my hip

Little footfall fingers walking across my soft pages, reaching my spine and then down to the other hand playing the next

Often one can feel you break the dam, only to find beavers build it again. Oftentimes I would probably feel anyone but you would fail to break mine so much, that the rupture would be better described as a flooded basement with creaky house attached, but it isn’t possible to be so blasé. I’m flooding everywhere, creaky house pouring like the rain

Down and through this all, my timely means to get to you is but not delayed. For sure as the flood does cease, I am willing it likely to come again and again

Then taste, a good thing inside my mouth, sitting down around a bout, I’m twisted sheets and tongue attached, into caves, crevasses and cracks

No area is to small for my place to drink, lick or eat, it’s all a better meal than ill have this week

Blimp’s Folly

Standing in dawn darkness

Outline of a city below harkens

My frigid breath is icy waves

Cascade froth over the cappuccino gaze

Yellow dust flowers spring to life

Wattle, I breathe in its sand castle essence

Danger clouds face me; moon is a crescent

Up beyond a yellow blimp falls

Diners at the street cafe call

It crashes, down like a wet mop

It’s gallon shape flop, flop, flop

awake

Crosses in cloudscape

Two eggs, laid down by the corridors

Sure as mortal days escape by the west coast

Rolling boulders feel the way of the mocking birds

Roasting legs dripping starlight onto the verge

Up in my estimations, high sky crosses the absurd river of ice

Titanic served salmon on a bed of white rice

With such luscious little smiles, scales and forgiveness in the rails

It’s the day of the cowardly snails

Concenteena pantomine brushes

Damn

Blue the distance

Convergence we gather/crosses we shatter

I wish I was bulletproof on the tune player

Does it matter? Rafters/plots pantomime horse slayer

Cram

Leave this wish ant

Apple tastes, butter grace/fly buzzcut shone in the race

Moon kisses her mace. She wields it with all her grace

Flavour/silver bottle dies in a haste

Stamp

Is that a quote from Immanuel Cant?

Specks (But I do)

Freaked with pink specks above the wing, oh Pegasus

Length of your abroad sailing on that rack

I struck by saturnism, a soiled being of mirth

Naught, uncle verily sold unto me a fandangle disposition

Oh mooncalf I hear you spake, the numbing cheat would but be a faster expiry

Fain I am, I call

Gods acer, you be in amount regardless

Such day, yea I drink from young blood of ye?

Neigh, it be but ague to your conistution

Slipshod my night, soon but I do.

Sleep is forbidden

Engulf our twilight, supersonic blood fights
Into darker green stars we stare
Despair dissipating single thoughts of care
Samurai floodlights, bitter pill is bitten twice
Grit on snow, as my blood simply flows
Wolves surround me, arm is taken freely
Picture all ours, on mountain rocky
Sleep is forbidden here, poisons twice as good for me.

Kurrajong grove 

read or seen in the depth of mind blue and black and full of rind 

pieces falling over themselves to prove their mine

jumping thumping in that dark clouds or just sitting in simple mounds

some left bereft of wisdom and grace

others given life by the fleshy roots 

a tree, kurrajong above sitting in a grove

deep a creek runs smoothly over granite stones 

drying yellow grass fields around 

black seed pods scattered around the ground 

a faint hearted smile from a girl sitting in this tree

singing softly words and thoughts about who she really is

a little altar is nearby, resplendent in dawning lights 

Orange thunderhead 

dangerous thunderheads brought on by political blunder headsshreds of all the buildings, stings from hail and crops that failed 

will we be able to sail away from this place?

or rebuild to the wee hours? 

shelter is in the church tower 

doesn’t matter if you are so endowed

cower, from these storms and the winds power

irony of the day that it was some of these believers 

 procedures that made such a mess of this

climate depression, and the cowering congregation 

if it seems that Gaia is angry, perhaps that’s just debris in your supree
this angry orange man

does whatever he can

to take all you care about

twist into a doubt mouth 

he’s going to get worse

soon all of us will be in a hurse
dangerous blunder heads brought on by political thunderheads 

shreds of men, stings from baileys mail and promises that failed 

will we be able to save us?

Galaxy hall

I’m on my way down to galaxy hall the meeting place of devils and gore 

In the blustery palls sits every kind of horned beast of flamed saw 

And while I yawn my mothers calm breaths and the seas dark depths I am all gone

For about this place, is a bezel and grace that you’d not think would be adore

Flames along the way, and a marshal of the rammer army 

Playing hellish beats, and frying golden meats in the kitchen for the feast

I’m starting to feel welcome and safe which I did not expect to be a part of such a place 

I’m here now and must be making the best I can

Tendril islands 

Gentle careful aches for touch

Much sense filled to almost brimming

In your kisses I am swimming 

Bring, bring us tendril islands 
Let’s go together 

Lost on our island forever 

Never, ever be anything but us

Oh, flounder and thrust
Tickle, trickles into a caress 

I’m sorry but I might make a mess

Wispering silence as much as you can best

The lick of a breast 
For long our nibbles

Trouble with tribbles

Plays quitely on your TV

I steal a kiss passionately 
Clever girl, your gasping breath says

Tendril of your tounge finds

Sipping your wine, for it’s time 

For partaking of mine 
Tendril islands

Put into motion

Drinking this potion

Lost in my ocean 

Murcury is not dead 

Kill the message.

Kill the messenger. 

Murcury is not death, though

His is as deceiving as any one can tell

A theith and a lair, Larunda will not tell though

For cutthroat Jupiter hastily cut out her tounge 

You may think, that Murder has beseeched the messenger of the gods

You forgot they are just as tricksy as us if not more

But what else is a god, but the very hardened psychosis of us poorly mortals