Violin string

If we vibrate and we move in the frequency, of the universe there is no secrecy, to the wavelengths we swim along hopefully meeting vibrations besides, that dive deeply inside of we Vibrating in synchro simplicity. I have never understood a blue rhapsody when the colour’s as good as the symphony and the orchestra, thinking,…

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Muffled in translation

Once before this day began and I knew everything, where everything was in its place, labelled, facing in a line and behind the bottles of red wine, hidden from the fractured eyes of linguists who disguised as spies would entertain me to the thought that if I carried what they brought, the alphabets that we…

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Coldplay and chorizo

Maybe she was Russian black or maybe my imagination, but she moved like snow on peppermint, slow and tasty and much to my amazement, she melted lines upon my face and I, stepping light on all the right stones making magic with these old bones melted into her. With several leaps into frustration my destination…

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Sewing up shadows

They flit through this phantom and each ghost lights a lantern that shines, even molecules mock me. I rock back and forth and mentally scribble then I dribble things out through my mouth. Sigh? I could cry with the torment, lend me the wings let me fly. She could cannibalise me as she flies in…

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Jules

The last act of the balancer, to dance across the rooftops bare holding hands with Maigret, dare we look? Skyscrapers may scrape away, but I see sunlight every day hear every word they say, as cold as concrete on pillows lay. The last act does not detract from the thousand and one acts which came…

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Wintergreen

No lullaby to send me to sleep, no stars in the sky just the tears as I cry for these things I can no longer keep. If a minute would last me forever and forever was here in my heart, it could start to explain why this pain that I feel lasts forever and will…

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Versailles

My heart is but the souvenir reminding me that you were here, but now you’ve gone, my mind plays tricks with stones and sticks my eyes see you, the image sticks, but now you’ve gone. If only I could wind back time, take back the words then we’d be fine, of this I’m sure, but…

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The cork tile.

‘what time is it’, said the wolf. why? asked I. with an eye on the beast and the other making a beeline for the door. The door seems to shrink the longer I think about leaving, but I’ve done enough grieving for what was before, time to open the door, step outside, take a ride…

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Jet is always black

This is no treasure map, nothing to hide but the words that are hidden somewhere deep down inside. No trinkets or jewels for fools to spend lifetimes in search of, just the words, some like birds, release and they’ve flown. I spout like a fountain or groan like a mountain that’s dying, yet in the…

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A scattering of leaves

In the house of the greatest of charity through the corridors, passing the sacristy, into the chapel where up on the balcony the Sisters of Mercy chant prayers for me. I sit humbly, no coins for the offertory a poor man in search of a history, in the house of the greatest of charity I…

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