The Sustain Of a Day

The symphonious wringing of wiring;

Loud inside the lamppost shells,

Accompanied by a harmonious hum

Of wind whooshing,

Rushing through the reeds

Of ladders,

Atop the white transit vans:

Speeding home and sputtering off,

The dust of a day.

The bass of piston and petrol drum,

Sits beneath the beauteous cacophony,

The wringing wiring and harmonious hum:

This moment the world,

Singing such a perfect song;

For a day that is almost done.

This music so sweetly sounded

On a blustery early Autumn eve,

In front of a setting Summer sun.

My heart floats so light,

And calling loud, begs the encore;

'Play on, play on.'

Climb Down

I am the sandstone block,

And your just a little drip,

Yet you still wear me down

Bit by bit.

I look into your eyes,

Devoid of remorse

And so cold to see,

But you don't look

You don't look at me,

You don't see the love within,

Past the tears that begin to fill,

This eye,

This me,

This I;

And all I want to do is be with you,

I want to pick you up and shake you,

Until you tell me why!

Why, why, why?

Why do I lust for you so,

And why do I love you more,

Why do I hold you so close,

And in a heartbeat let you go?

Why do I cry with pain

And get angry with you;

Why are all my happiest moments,

When it is just us two?

What is it you do,

To make me feel so high;

So high I can never come down,

So high I can touch the sky,

So high so high,

When I am with you,

I can feel it die.

A Tightlacer To Chase

Like a blind man feeling his way,
Touching, learning,
All curious excitement;
Like the thrill-seeker,
Mapping the outline of a coaster,
His eye following every curve around;
Like a boxer in the ring,
Worked up and ready to go,
His breath nearly matching his heart.
It oozes out of every pore,
It burns deep with his eyes,
Like a wild stallion horse
I cannot be reined in.
Like the instincts of cat,
The hunt will always go on.
New pray, new quarry,
New goals.
Sometimes you catch,
And sometimes you don't,
It doesn't matter much,
And it has never been the case,
Because the most thrilling part of the hunt,
Is captured in the chase.

Colour

In the alleyways and side-streets,
I see Mona Lisa's,
I see Vettriano's,
I see bombs, tags, throw-ups and pieces.
I see art.
I see art that is fine,
But not the art that is taught,
I see the art that is mine;
We risk to transform and to change,
We risk being caught.
You see the bricks and we see the canvas,
You see the paints but we see the apparatus.
And you will never put us down,
Though you may paint over our art;
We shall come around again
To make a fresh start.
Take a step back,
Take a look out and see,
And for a moment
Just look at it and imagine,
Your in a gallery.

Spayed

Your fear keeps you silent,
As your little limbs tremble,
Your hair is coming loose,
And your eyes
They do nothing but ask.
Part of me feels,
I am sick in sympathy for you.
I would gladly take your pain;
Returning what they taken,
In a heart-beat.
We know this can't be done,
But trust in me,
For I know there is an end
And a light,
And days of sunshine,
Play, and that walk
With the little bum-wiggle
That reminds me,
Of a little toddler dancing.

You look at me,
With those puppy-dog eyes asking,
And all I see is that silver screen
And that little girl;
"Is life always this hard,
Or is it just when your a kid?"
And the answer is always;
"It is always like this".

Of Mens Minds At Midnight

In the cold dark night I walk,
With haste, the pebbles chatter
Beneath my feet, and in the dark
Something can hear them talk.
In the black cold silence
Sneaks and creeps,
The ocean growl of a monster,
And the beast atop the trees
Sinister woody creaks.
I walk a little faster,
As I move through the copse;
Then comes a breathing behind me
And my body shakes and stops.
I hold my breath and listen close,
For what I cannot see,
My heart beat beats ever more loudly;
And then I see it move from behind a tree.

I break the stillness and the silence,
And set of at some pace,
I glance behind in a panic,
I see his glowing face.
With eyes of fire and a face full rage,
He follows me at speed.
With tears streaming I begin to cry,
To the moon I plead.
I think he is getting closer,
But I dare not stop and look,
For in the copse I have heard the tale,
Of a monster and a man with a bloody hook.
I see the door to my home,
And put in one last sprint,
Through it I barrel, turn and lock it tight,
Out the window through tears I squint,
Into the black of night.
Nothing there but the moon,
And he appears to laugh and smile;
I climb into bed and hide
Still shaking all the while.
I relax a bit and give a little snort,
Was it all in my head,
O, what a silly thought,
I settle down a little now,
Ready for my nightly nap,
When outside the door I hear him call,
And upon it he does wrap.
To the window from my bed,
I give a nervous look;
For from my bed, in the window,
I can see his bloody hook.

Sitting On A Fence

What do you see when you watch me so?
You watch me, I see you
But do you know?
I see it all
Like the blind man feels,
The kisses, the Romeo words;
He endeavours and he steals.
The grazed knees thrown down,
Buckled under belief-making time's fair will.
We've grown, nurtured and loved,
And now it's time to kill.

Amongst this mess there is ourself,
And ourself is at the core;
Sail every sea and ocean
And it is inevitable one day,
That you'll come across a shore.
Take flower petals and the smiling moon,
For days come;
And are often gone too soon.
In the dark no one likes a lune.
Like the dog-ball dog,
That goes too and fro;
I cannot stay, I will not stay,
For in my heart I know,
That very soon will come a day
When a ship sets sail,
And aboard it I shall go.

Do you see this as I watch you
Watching me, from the corner of my eyes?
Do you see the smiles and innocence
As the buttons on my cloak:
My intricate disguise?
Or could it be,
That I fool not you,
But only endeavour to fool me.
With coin on back of hand,
So alone I stand, Alone in my purgatory.