Voices off

Each thought
has a voice
an accent
all its own
some stutter
with apparent insecurity
yet reveal
a truth profound
if one takes the time
to listen well,
while another
strong and loud
begins to falter
as it evidences
a lack of reason
despite its will
to be heard primarily,
there are thoughts too
those almost silent
merely a hum it seems
a nod or shake
of the head
communicating
not so much
with flowered
verbosity or
colourful prose,
but with a glance of
involuntary pupils
a wayward crooked smile
in unguarded moments
above all
these thoughts unheard
speak volumes.

Pyre

I turn to cinders
glowing red
deep inside her fire
my passions swathed
within the flames
of this carnal pyre

Draught

I drank deep of youth
and paid dearly for the draught
the morning after

Twilight

the sweetest flesh of dying day
marbled with the waiting night
presses on expectant lips
its taste immeasurable delight

Graffiti

on the railway wall
he finished his love letter
before the train hit

Pica Pica

into the forest
on sharpened wings of the dawn
my dreams disappear

Rain

inside the teardrop
existed a universe
which died in the rain

Madness

her petals blossom
but the scent of these flowers
bring only madness

Exhale

As I breathe in
I think of her caress
so much so
I may never exhale

Secrets (unfinished plea)

let me taste your secrets
and all you keep within
flavoured with the reticence
of passions that begin

let me touch that you conceal
from those who may desire
to know of all the covert thoughts
you burn inside your fires