Vint-age
When “Vintage” start to relate to
your Peak, your Glory days
Embrace the though of
Age ; Aging ; Health ; and say
“Fuck that – I’m surfing the Peak
FOREVER!”
When “Vintage” start to relate to
your Peak, your Glory days
Embrace the though of
Age ; Aging ; Health ; and say
“Fuck that – I’m surfing the Peak
FOREVER!”
Tonight I was reminded
A memory suppressed and stored
In the back corners of an attic or
Country barn long lost
With everything new I attempt
I fail – epic f
At least once ; always
No wonder I gave up
Trying
No wonder I gave up
on life
THEY think this is how it is
THEY think nobody else care
THEY think grey colours the sky
THEY think the old defies the new
THEY don’t understand
Reality is what
You make it
Shelf-less dust
Hovering
My bob defines me
Your fingers through my hair
Pinching my left nipple – hard
Hardly shivering
Your stare ; a scare
I melt ; shivering
Wanting all and
so much
More
Come my minions
Come write my story
Come now before the …
… end is howling ; greeting us
Come now
Come
The world demon flew
High above
Another truth revealed
Their eyes
In tears
Longing
The flag
In tatters
Hanging
As above
So below
The demon thought
Sighing
Abandonment twice recalling
Swearing never again
Falling
Swearing never again
Failing
Differential equations
The power of Maths
Forever ruling
Libido, drowning in my shower
Sexting / raw rays / spreading legs
Desire for shaven limbs
Wigs and
Your sigh
akin to perusing a poem of old
revisiting mirrors
reopens unhealed wounds
Whaddyuwannado?
We can lipsync; read poetry out
loud while the rain pours down; washing the streets clean from weeks of dry conversations; you can ride on my back through the puddles I wade; my wellies leaking – your dreams echoing between the buildings we pass in the night. We are one, the poetry of that alone, makes me warm inside.
I love the Nordic dark
“Lost” – a fragrant
The solitude of an unlocked door
The echos of her polished shoes
Her silent whisper
Strangled