my song

6 01 2009

my lady, my lovely
I write you a song
and it comes so easy
keyboard in my hand
fingers moving rhythmically
no need to look down or at the screen
my heart is emptying
and you are filling it
can you hear this
hear the words floating out of me,
finding their own wings
making the room spin
careful of the clichés
oh my lovely
how you inspire greatness
and i wonder if you know it
and i type
fingers moving
this subtle song
without a chorus
can you feel this
eyes closed i dance with you
swaying to the flow
you in a dress
and me in a suit
like a chessboard in a truce
my heart adds a beat
your cheek is so close to mine
i feel your warmth
how happy can this song be
so happy
that is cant be real
so happy
that i know its a dream
so happy
happiness like this
never exists, for me.



waiter there’s a fly in my soup

13 11 2008

im alone
in the restaurant of eternal damnedness
it came recommended

i like stand up comedy
not being stood up
maybe they got the print wrong in the lonely hearts column
damned editors with high blood pressures.

ill have the wine

“and will you be dining alone?”
hmmm…lets see, no get me a pina colada
my other personality likes things fruity.

the redhead arrives and i drink from her bosom generously
dark, sensual with a twist of frankly i dont give a fck.
the way i like it.

iLL have the soup
danke schon mein liebe

music arrives
the violin player
pouring some fckin tabasco on my licked wounds
yes yes… lovely now fck off

the soup
the chicken noodle

“waiter” i mumble
“yes madam?”
there is a fly in my soup

No no…please accept with our commiserations

the redhead winks as i grabble for her comforts
who said nothing in life was for free.



17 10 2008

can i cry here, now, infront of you?
will it make my growth less?
will it take away from the strength i got yesterday.
im trying so hard to be a big girl,
but sometimes little girl moments
crawl in.

im drunk again
does it make my tears less important?
does it make my scars less jaggered?
will you actually believe me
if i say i tried,
and i will try harder?

there are things here
things that consume me
things that rip me off track
things that dont give a damn
of where im wishing to go.

this is breaking my heart!
does saying that
make me the weakling once again?
well, I am the last born
maybe only the rain knows im not
as solid as you.

do you see my make-up runing?
does it look cool? all gothic and *&^$#@?
sorry i dissapointed you again
with my flash display of emmotion.
i sometimes forget
that it’s just not done in polite company.

are you really my sister?
or did they just tell us that you are?


Your edge

12 09 2008

Your edge scares me;

when sharpened with anger,

how do things get so muddled,

we slice ourselves into the confusion.

The puppy needs food, water and shelter

a few jabs too,

what is the smile of its tail-

worth to you?

Your edge excites me;

when serrated with laughter.

spectator of your eyes, tell me your story?

You watch mine too, and say; sad.

They too have their own story.

I say; look, I am the moon

You say no, you see the sun.

I point to the stars, they light only in dark

See, there is no day without night.

It weakens me – the sound of my name,

a Van Gogh on your lips

there sits an echo – in my ear

and placed against me, the cool edge sharpened and serrated

profusely, I begin to bleed.


The Light Between Us

1 09 2008

The Light Between Us
The Light between us
Touched, brushed
Turn around to look

And you have not even entered the room

The spark
Is held in my soul
And I feel your aura

You are a trail of mist
Leave your dew

Embrace me
Touch me
Before I expire in the sweet longing


sweet dreams are made of these?

27 08 2008

do you dream in colour
in the boxland of dreams
do you run free
of hate, lust, deception
and lie next to the river of boundless truth
do you see yourself in the mirrored water
hair flowing free
with daisies locked in the locks
locked behind closed eyes and lids

do you run barefoot in the grass in your head
and sing and twirl
a place where the monsters come and chase you
till you scream and cry and claw and die
only to be rescued by the fairytale princess
with the magic wand

do you dream in colour when you betray your wife
and turn into a goblin
and sell golden dust

do you dream
at all
at night


dont speak

17 07 2008

dont speak
she sings
i know just what you saying
so please stop explaining

and i dont want to hear it
the words
the tired old tune
running barefoot in the field in my head

i want to carry on painting my picture
in seventh heaven bliss
where the real world is obscured by my canvass
and the music is dark goth
and i prance around in pink and black frilly things
just being me

instead i have to be here and listen to the silly empty words of how today can be the first day of my life
leave me alone
to paint and prance
and yell inside my head
2moro will drift past and ill jump on the rollercoaster again
and ride with you into the sunset

but for today
my heart bleeds on the canvass
i am mad and tired
and confused and just weird in my head