By My Front Door

There’s a carton of wishes
By my front door
Without drawers
Or segments
Or compartments.
After lugging them around
For so long,
From place to place
Through time and storms,
Their colours have are all combined.
Their sheen I once polished
For hours on end
Have scratches and dents.
Some are unrecognisable.
But when I hold them individually
They are still warm
There is a throb
A heart
An ache
Which will never disappear,
So long as they stay
By my front door.

Beautiful People

She speaks
With a wink
Between her
Cotton-candy lips.
Drenched with intent,
Smothered by innuendo.

Waiting by
His rotten cord
He strangles truth
Between his teeth
Extending a hand
To those who wish to fall as well.

Don’t let eager ears fool you
Their tame pigs
And fame whore guests
Grapple with fevers,
And adulterated
Unabashed
Drunken hearts

These are the purists
These are the truth tellers
These are your Gods

Death By Kaleidoscope

We all suffer of our own doing;
Death by kaleidoscope
Chain-of-event love.
Simple mirrors
Flashing images
Of all your faults and graces,
All your greatest and lowest.
Bedazzled eyes
Drink up the sight
Of shiny shapes
We think we haven’t seen.
It’s just a few specks
Of coloured dust
Collecting
And the end
Of a very long,
Blacked-out,
Tunnel-vision
Lense.

Watch the pretty colours swim.
They’ll keep you entertained
For a little while.

Dillam, A Love Letter of the Best kind

Sometimes
When we are together
Its less about the time
And more about the years,
Less about the jokes
And more about the laughter,
Less about our troubles
And more about the care.

With you I never question
With you I never distort
Or manipulate
Or destroy

Life is already destructive
People thrive on manipulation
And love is so very distorted
That I am grateful
Most often
For you.

We have so many relationships
In this life
Who’d have thought
We’d last?

Thanks, for always coming to my party