should I lend you more knowledge,
more facts about neurons and atoms?
no, I'd much rather help you forget,
so that you might once again walk with wind under your feet,
and mirrors in your eyes


I hear the doorbell,
it calls me home,

I taste the tea,
I hear her voice,
I smell the fire,

I breathe the light,
through the crack in the curtain.

I hear the doorbell,
I must be home.

and I rejoice that we played this game,
of hide and seek,

for the storm,
it was a shower.

the fire,
it was a heater.

the pain,
it was a lover.

and my freedom,
was the sound,
of a doorbell…

from within my home

an ode to apes in tuxedos


oh how the stars draw us out from the mud of our original homes,
tasting fine wine and aged cheese, we lock ourselves in time.

we polarise and we jeopardise our innocence for projections of better lives:
a greener garden, a deeper love, a bigger bank of plastic paper and kings and queens and untold horrors, we sacrifice our innocence…

we lock ourselves in time.

oh but hollow are thine thoughts, 
oh but hollow is thine money,
oh but empty is thine stomach,
after caviar and wine.

for no love was made in the future,
no baby born in the past,
no ecstasy is to be found,
in words and drawings.

so tell thine favourite stories,
draw to thy hearts content, 
but on thine dying bed,
with thine head on thy lovers lap,
do not touch a single thought,
do not long for thine mind.

For thy are here,
eternally here,
do not miss it…
thine death is ever-present