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Wednesday, 27 April 2011


Dandelion clouds made of spirograph snowflakes.
Heavenly serendepity, perfection amongst systematic anarchy.

Tuesday, 26 April 2011

Nothing more than a glance pt.2

A glance. 
A simple collision of the eyes.
Viewpoints conflict, but the conclusion is salient.
Necks pivot,
leaving but a memory,
of the resplendent misjudgement,
that our vision blesses upon us.

Monday, 25 April 2011


Out of life and death, it is life that scares me most.
The obligation to support unsettles me.

Sunday, 24 April 2011


With a great enough incentive, people are highly irrational.
One does not buy a lottery ticket under the assumption that one will win.
The lure of wealth is such a great one, that greed swallows rationality.

I worry that I am doing the same with love. If I have found something special, then am blinded by its very beauty?
Am I irrational? Clutching at pipedreams?

The person who buys a lottery ticket isn't saddened by the fact that they bought the ticket, just that they did not win. Regret sojourns, but it will return.

Love does not come with a receipt.


I grow frustrated;
My aspirations wait.
Every moment lessens the chance.
Happiness is within grasp, but insanity is as close behind.

Saturday, 23 April 2011


Slanderous wretch.
Doorman to the injust.
Gargantuan delinquent, put away your tongue and brawn.
The guardian of safety is the danger itself.

Tuesday, 19 April 2011


Go, flee to times previous.
You are still my zest, if you are bygone or operative.
An orange is naked without its skin.


Soft features blur my judgement.
Quintessentially delicate.


Here I live, in my gated community.
Burrow away with those close and those closest.
Asymmetry forces a frigid convulsion.
The cold is awfully toasty this time of year.


A spree of expression, I feel I am making up for lost time.
"You there, children, stop playing behind that curtain, you're distracting the class."


Mistakes, Nuances, Intricacies.
Thank goodness for the epiphany of a tiring heart.


I require you, young scaffold.
without you, I am weak, young scaffold.
As a scaffold, you feel you could support me?
I am a sucker for functionalism when it works.

Onwards with whim.

Why do hearses have seatbelts?
They should not be travelling fast enough to cause any damage to the passengers.
Or, if a collision was to occur, is there a more fitting vehicle to signify ones demise?
Irony over safety,
Whimsy over sadness.


Sicked wickening,
be sad or be sadder.
My eyes shed not one tear,
while stronger men mourn,
I think to myself
I am stronger than they are for such complacency?
or am I less human?


When hope is met a smile comes forth, and all is well.

While currently a technicality, the future is swell.

Either that, or I am setting myself up for a fall.

I seek forgiveness

Here is an apology to my one reader.

I was temporarily unable to write, and temporarily unwilling.

I seek my own forgiveness.