ParisThe world's most beautiful city? Not until now. A fitting place for a Final bow. My heart is once again see-through, A trait that I shall come to rue.Paris
To forget all which I have learned, And try to make a start, That does not see that all is burned, Under the guise of art. The beshackled, never free Mind and soul, eternity.
I have come to think it fair, This conclusion that I see, What can there be but pure despair, Engulfing ever part of me? For it seems the winter frost, Will bear the mark of all I've lost.
PastWaves lapped On dry, chapped, Lilac shores- Into scabs and sores, That littered the beach. When, in an instant, Transformed were the distant, And out of reach. An inner peace. A thinner piece of film, Coating the brain and eyes. The illustrious demise, Of a singular shadow Thrown across the early morning sand.Past
Mr. RedbrickThe voice announced itself, Eyes made of moon that Swivelled on chewed lollipop sticks Drunkenly lurching And latern-lit In a frothing red petticoat Walking into the wrenching gut Of the night; Arms aimlessly flailing Fingers endlessly caressing The liquid diamond curtain Back and forth. Reaching the cabin, Offers me a spot of tea, Poured so acneously, I, Perspirating kittens, Underneath the duvet of light, Realise I am home.Mr. Redbrick
WFAATLELRFloating on a slurping stream, Sensing every crest. Tucked inside a lazy dream, Taking well earned rest. I pass by people on the banks, The current quickens course, I have not time to give them thanks- and feel a sharp remorse.WFAATLELR
Not knowing where I will drift off, Or when I drifted in, The water's edge begins to cough, The clouds they turn to tin. The forest is behind me, o They said it wouldn't last. In all the fruitless fret and woe The time has flitted past. I disregarded its behest,
Its coaxing beck and call, Trading love for
--
Thou shalt not wish your girlfriend was a freak like me.
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