Julie

A tiptoe on the ice beneath the snow,
believe me when I say there's a way
to go, yet. But still don't fret 'coz don't
forget that I have set this up so let your
fears and tears disappear and smile
a bit and try to enjoy it.

And by it I mean this scene serene
of standing on a frozen lake, so
wide awake, watching the mist rise
from our breath. So don't delay, the
time to play, is here today, so won't
you say that you love me?

Spiral

Sunlight glints on frosted branches;
frigid fields hindering life's chances,
callous glances of possible romances,
no more dances, no more watching.
No one's watching, no one's watching.
Dance, dance. Spiral
into chaos, into moonlight,
into harmony.
Life's dramatic irony
stands tall as we all take
comfort in its shadow.
All but those who dare to
burn, dare to learn for what
they yearn, then a return. Spin to
the centre, reach out to the tips,
slender, inviting, return to the hips.
Return, return. Burn.
You're so warm.

Bullray

Infer what you will:
deliberation of
interpolation. The
jury's out; shout,
shout it out. Time
passes and will
be passing in time.
Speak no evil,
certainly not in rhyme.

I don't know, maybe you do.
Science was made up by folks
like me and you.

Childhood amnesia,
no one wants to
believe ya'. About
what I don't know,
I wasn't there, saw
things through a
different lens, this
is the mental bends,
and I can't comprehend
the cataclysmic
kaleidoscope that
smashed and
shattered all
Swiftian Tropes
and left you
feeling like
a joke.

A Song For Kyoko

Twilight creeps across the sky,
a slow-dance intertwining with
you and I. We sit and speak,
flashes illuminate the eye and
show us things we cannot deny.

I can't show you where it hurts,
because I look at you through
emotional blinds, so I see you
only in spurts. Complete pain is
horrid, but are fragments worse?

Though I owe you an attempt
to ease your pain, cathartic
dialogue, dramatise your
condition, all the classics
rethought and written again.

So this is the story, don't
you know, of a lovely
young girl named Kyoko.

She loves like she lives,
with plenty to give
and plenty still stored;
her feeling's ignored.
Stockpiles of emotions, sat
in a barrel, slowly rotting.
Even the sweetest apple
turns black if uneaten.

Her Neccessities: air, food, water
and some contact, just a sliver
of skin brushing against hers.
Something to let her know she's
alive. Something for which she
can strive. Someone to sit
by her side, and talk
and laugh
and cry
and watch as cliche's rain
down from the sky. She can't
remember being so happy
that she felt afraid to die.

It's all I think about as she sits
in a chair, screaming out to
walls of mirrors, getting endless
echoes in return for her thoughts.

Nadine #4

Nadine, Nadine, the Jelly Bean Queen.
The Jelly Bean Queen that needs to
be seen, full pouting lips and dressed
all in green whilst artistically posing
on the big silver screen.

The screen is a metaphor, I wanna
get some more of what the boys
all adore and the girls just ignore.
Their loss. Lip gloss. Dressed to
the nines and blowing away
designs of indifferent minds.

She stands on the cusp, angels
fall to the dust before her mighty
emerald-rod-bookstore-please-
sir-just-one-more mindset. An
international security threat to
the herd of the new scene. All hail
Nadine, Nadine, the Jelly Bean Queen.