of a smile

The flavour of a smile
is unabated by shadows
or flowers, and sunlight.
So says the smile.

It slithers… no
It dances into the senses
And tickles the under lip
and curves the sunlight

Till night is burnt bright
and worry finds a joyous wiggle
grown into a dance, and a laugh,
until exasperated from itself

Good morning shadow curved smile
that burns the night and worry into shimmers and glitter.
And fills the air with fresh roses and(or) coffee
And lingers through the night, shadow and sun.

New age affection

My version
of 21st century companionship
lies in this:

“I am watching the next episode
without you!”

Her response;
one filled with dread,
a side of regret
and an explosion
of over-exaggerated

On their own

in the midst
of serenity, the
stomach, of its own
volition, writhes in agony.

When in response, the mind
of its own volition, beckons wildly
to vision, stale but savory smiles,
smiles, and the heart of
its own volition,
anchors itself
to tear
drop shaped
anvils. A breath
in cahoots with existence,
chants the falling anvil into
a haste as it crashes through the
thinly layered joy we have been
draped in.

Then our weakened
eyes rise to
a door ajar, and
hand to the
air in a
blue wave.

Good bye serenity.
Please do visit again.

Welcome, fear.

And this spell
shall pass.

I welcome the day
I fear the day.

When your kiss,
rested on my left
and right,
will, in the red of a snow,
spell civility.

How hard
must I starve this heart
for my fear to find me?

Falling rock

It’s a gradual falling;
of the humble and pleased rocks
through the running waters.

I pray,
my dear father,
that these currents are not
devilishly strong

so I may fall on her lap
and rest in her kiss
and find comfort in her hand
and peace in her smile
and tomorrow in her breath
and today in her laugh. Else,

I am doomed in my fall.
That in hindsight
it be deemed a crash.



Silence walks gently into your peripheral.
Silence lays one hand on your waist.
Silence waltz you into a dance.
Silence is the company you desire.
Silence stares blankly into you.
Silence fills you with a kiss
a spin, a spin, a waltz.
Silence is charming … today.
Silence is attractive … today.
Silence rests tenderly, like hypothetical feather,
in your heaven facing palm.
Silence is gentle today. Like hypothetical feathers.
Silence sits you down on the side of the party.
Silence points the drowning moon to you.
Silence slows the procession of the stars.
Silence sways your foot as they dangle over the ledge.
Silence rests a warm palm on yours as they grip the edge and prop up your shoulders.
Silence, like the timely spin of perfectly synchronized swimmers,
sights with you.
Silence sings a fist full of night breeze through your happy hair.
Silence leans out, still holding your hand, and with a finger
swirls the stars into a dance.
Silence rests its hands over your other shoulder.
Silence pulls you into silence. A side embrace in silence.
Silence walks beside your even breath
and within your shut eyes.
Silence whispers you to sleep.
Silence rolls the covers over you.
Silence sets you to slumber in the cuddle of silence.
Silence breaths calm into your being.
Silence sings you to sleep … in silence.
Silence holds you in sleep.
Silence turns off the day.

Till tomorrow

Let’s stall our tears
till the rise of the morning.
and feast on the blue chuckles
that have found camp in our

A broken hearts rattle louder
than a massive hollow ball of steel.
Feel the reverberation thunder
up from our darkened
blood filled pool.

We will laugh
till our reservoirs run dry.
And then welcome, in the morning,
along with the beautiful warmth
that caresses our maroon stained
patented jackets, these tears
that life, from our wrung soul,
has liberated.

“Wash me into a pool of my despair”,
I will say to life, tomorrow and daytime.
“I am yours for the keep now”.


Sometimes, jokes
aren’t buoyant enough
to lift the rubbles of crumbled
smiles tethered to laid out
heart pieces, nailed into
pulse, by trembling

It is a surprise
these nails did not sink through
un-composed jingling fingers, sealing
the hands that worked
through red stained hailstorms
and flooded streets to
surge this heart
to beat.

These pieces meander
through the pool that covers
our streets. They taste much
like tears, smell much like
blood, and look much
like heartbreak.

Rainy fall

Spread your arms
my nappy haired
crying boy.
There is a fall to be

These tears will,
un momento,
fall back to earth as rain.
on you, theirs, our


I’m angling
for your heart
while camped at your toes
with my flames towering high
till they tickle the underbelly of heaven.