Monthly Archives: September 2015

Walking With You

Walking with you

I hadn’t noticed the stones in my shoes

That the weather was abysmally rude

Throwing down all it had left

And so it was only then

That I noticed

I was soaked right through

And in some pain

Only then

When we went our separate ways

Shutting my front door

My hand remained poised

Until a heavy sigh

Sent me out into the rain once again

Uncontrollable Scene

For a while, we were individuals, instrumental even, only for something to send us into an unforgettable crescendo; then our heat-beats fused and we flew, we actually flew over ourselves, circling, voyeurs looking down upon our uncontrollable laughter, not one of us wanting to land … ever again.

The Water’s Edge

As I walked down to the water’s edge I knelt and plunged my right hand in,

increasing the rivers density, I watched my hand dance until I thought the river may

run dry, that my hand may never return to me.

I was wrong, my hand soon returned and it hurt like hell.

Then the river dissipated, cruelly, as I was now struggling to comprehend

dying among the scorching sand-dunes.

Clockwork Waterfall

So we decided to drive up the waterfall, but the waterfall was redundant and

dry. While travelling vertically; the impossible was performed with ease, I

couldn’t help but wear a fixed smile until arriving at its crest.

Then a tarn with tranquil water, slick and so pure with

elaborately carved structures floating: some were peacefully rotating.

I noticed they were broken, perhaps abandoned before completion. It was at

that moment  I had forgotten why we… but more now I, was there at all.

Somehow without trying, I walked forwards, sure-footed: leaving behind what

had vanished behind me.

Now everything was much closer, and silent, with timely rushes of air, pressed

intermittently at my cheek; forced gently by numerous random walls from

what were now replica houses made from wood.

Clocklike and clockwise, suddenly in the far distance I see faceless builders as

undisturbed artists that do not seem to care, and the placid water

nearby does not respond to the continuous stirring upon it. The half buildings

have reversed the effects of time, and suddenly I must go… where? I do not


The Flawed (The Music’s Over)

The four of them sat waiting nervously: Average Man, 6th Sense Woman, The Vague, and Mr De’Ath.

Suddenly, over to their right, the one and only door swung inward; expelling pure white light bleaching them, equally. One by one, they stood and walked at half-speed into the overexposure; causing their bodies to be at first outlined, then dissolved and eaten hungrily by it.

As soon as they were no longer visible as the characters they resembled, the door behind them creaked in heavy, reverberating delay; closing ever-so-slowly. The room now settled into its own blank atmosphere once more, with only the sound of distant screams for its company.

Sweet Death from the Thoughts of Dying

What a day I’ve had, earlier, I dream’t I was falling. Now that I’ve woken up, I really am! I’m sitting in the driving seat of my car, seat-belt on and plummeting over a ridiculously high cliff. I must of left the handbrake off you see. You’ve gotta laugh really – I intend to. I’m playing it over and over in my silly little mind, and yet nothing stops me from leaving that really useful handbrake off.  How clumsy of me, still, I’m going with a bang I suppose; even looks like I’m missing the tide that’s in. Not only am I gonna be smashed to bits bouncing off those rocks but burnt too; a true Hollywood explosion I can only imagine, just to be sure. Actually I’m quite lucky really cos I’ve always been terrified of the thought of drowning – and it’s funny, they say that it’s your life that flashes before y–

Psychedelic Leopard Spots

The fact that I have just seen a minuscule leopard; no bigger than my thumb; nonchalantly roaming between the taller blades of grass in my front garden was not as surprising as I would’ve first imagined.

Then I notice a tiny family of three; lying down not so far away from the minuscule leopard; the baby is twice the size of its assumed parents and the Leopard. Somehow I overlook this irregularity in scale and look away, determined to see what else that I can find that defeats logic. Inevitably, they all vanish before I look back on my search for absolute confirmation.

Feeling aggrieved, I sense that I’m being watched — but still I scan the garden; my mannerisms acquire some semblance of pretense loss, as all I see now is scattered autumnal leaves. Within a matter of moments I disregard the miniature marvels; I smile, subtly, as I come to the conclusion that I’m very temporarily insane.

I continue to walk to the gate and plan my route to work as usual.