at peace

My heart is at peace
I can now put my feet up
Throw my face to the sky
And laugh that belly guffaw laugh
I can rest easy
Because you are by my side
My heart is at peace
Because my palm lies in yours
Our fingers interlocking,
While our thoughts wander on a joint,
Beautifully winding journey
That is ours for several lifetimes
I am at peace
When we engage in this dialogue
Of colourful silence and
Sweet symphonies of our thoughts

LOVELY

I know you dont believe me,
But you were my first,
And have been my only love.
I know I should have moved on
And I thought I had,
But the touch of her
Reminds me solely of you

Your name lingers on my lips,
Even when it is hers I wish to speak...
Even her embrace reminds me of you,
Lucy, this heart longs for you,
Even when I know you moved on
And, may be, felt no such love for me,
I still have love for you


The next man you love,
Love him better than you did me,
And if he does really let you in,
Lovely, don't crush him like you did me.
Remember still,
I will love you more
than they ever will.

Lovely, the dozens after you
Complain that you left me empty
That my heart found a home in you
But you refuse to reciprocate.
If they knew you
They would say you broke a good man
Lovely, these are tears of a sad man.

SCARS

I am in love with my scars
The semi-healed wounds and scabs
The pain they once held
The lessons that they gave

i am in love with my scars
the stories of victories
and losses i endure
the testament of strength
that will spur me on.

I am in love with my scars
My version of events
That soothes the soul
The balm to my heart
The map to my mind.
i am in love with my scars

Disillusion

It is not I

that is lying on the barroom floor

Staring in to the darkness of space

Stating a prayer that is out of place.

The desolation of me

Marinated in beer, gin and rum

Listening to the din of an old drum

Declaring my disillusion

It is not I

Looking back at you

From the bottom of a glass

Asking for your inebriated ideas

Seeking intoxicated solutions

Devouring deadly portions

In hope of an answer

It is not I

You see bent over the toilet bowl

Retching my regret and depression

Begging for release

begging for peace

but getting none

so I go back to the bottle

No it is not I

It is not I
You see stumble and stagger
Holding a bottle of larger
Haunted by dreams unfulfilled
Daunted by life incomplete
Skulking in the dark alleys
Let the day reveal my mistakes
It is not I
perhaps a mere silhouette 

Doubt

Who was I to you?

The scapegoat for all your mistakes:

The one who kept pulling you back

When you strove ahead.

The inkling reminder

Of all that could have gone wrong

Of all that did go wrong

Of all that should have gone wrong

Who was I to you?

Was I your strength

Or your weakness

The deep breath you held in

Or the sharp sigh that took it away

The fleeting ghost you wished away

Who was I to you?

Because I was headed nowhere

But you followed me there

What for?

I had nothing to offer

sill have nothing to offer

so why not answer

Who was I to you?

Who am I to you?

I am lost to myself

So am I lost to you

A reflection of your worst

A portrait of a being so far from grace

who was I to you,

and why?

Angel

Broken my wings might be

but I am still an angel

tethered but unbound

perched on the ground

but I will be free

My arms are wide open,

follow me

or let me be

I will not embrace

nor slap your face

as long as you agree

to cause me no disgrace

I gave voice to reason

Silenced the rage within

the hurt that simmered

fizzled with the season

though I am still fallen

my pride is untrodden

I needed you once

when I was weak

when I was lost

and you walked away

gave me time to find my faith

to find my strength

Now I need you not

Broken my wings might be

but I am still an angel

and I will take my flight.

Leave you behind

as our paths diverge

fading in to the night

Despicable

When the royal aristocrat took leave of him,

Adorned him in attire befitting his new stature

As they did so many of his stray siblings

They baptized him with a brand new name

Ken Yah. Despicable huh

They loved his deep green shirt

the flamboyant red belt

the black trousers

and the white tie

Ken Yah. Despicable huh

He was full of promise

Showed immense potential

Was for a time the model

For all his stray siblings

Ken Yah. Despicable huh

They forgot to diagnose him

His tendency to self- cannibalism

Self sabotage and self destruction

His need for his own undoing

Ken Yah. Despicable huh.

His green shirt now faded

to the shade of pale diarrhea

His trouser shredded to bits

His once radiant smile

dotted in rotten, chipped teeth

Ken Yah. Despicable huh.

He only looks at the past

and what could have been

his accelerated rush to the grave

his masters flee from him

Ken Yah. Despicable huh