Let Angels Uncover Riddles' Answers

Red wine lips and chalk-white skin,

ocean blue eyes draw me in.

Velvet voice and sugar smile,

chocolate hair in such sleek style.

I can't remember where your tongue had traced

nor where your long legs limbered off to

but I can't forget your delicate taste

or my delicate thoughts of me and you.

I still search for that dream in my sleep

where you are here and mine to keep.

Careworn Comfort

The old faces, so fresh and full of verve

greet my heavy head, haggard and harrowed.

I cannot tell if we've drifted apart

or if our separate paths have narrowed.

Their visage is a taunting reflection

of everything that I could have been,

a diagram of my distancing dreams

with labels pointing out things I've not seen.

But if I start to look past the facade

I see they're just a ghost in a jester's attire,

their smile extends either side of their jaw

but it isn't matched where their eyes lie higher.

So I'm quite content to be rugged and rough

because my honest form is comfort enough.

Crease

Sensuality.

Orange hum.

Living.

Close as can be.

Tigers dancing in the sky.

Snowflakes in Mid-July.

Sleeping pills.

Burst apart.

Lights.

Heaven.

Mist.

Personality is predictability.

Missed.

Sense is subjective.

Alone.

Crazy.

Fears.

Furnace.

Lost.

Drone.

Tilted

Wonky.

                                                               Ask you.

Answer?

                        Askew.

Dawn

The most repulsing things seem resplendent

for these 51 seconds of fermenting filth,

as my subconscious sleeps with my surroundings

and my mind is a meditating mindfield.

Eyes snap open.

I'm awake.

Rain down, beads of melted wax,

let it soak into my skin.

Rain down, prior perceptions

let me eat myself from within.

I have a lust for this drowsy dance.

I long for this lagging learning.

I want connection to this cause.

You are not that which I am

but I am not that which you're not,

let us tie our better halves together

and be happy with our lot.

Why am I burning?

It's coming.

Why am I drowning?

What's coming?

Why am I alive?

I'm here.

The first time.

I miss people I haven't yet met.

I remember things which haven't yet happened.

I am sure of things I do not yet know.

I have visited myself for the very first time.

It's okay, you're safe now.

I'm here.

The Great Retreat

You teased my curtains

with your fingertips.

You let the rays of light

kiss your tender lips.

I cried for more time

in your cradling arms

but life has deadlines

past the snooze of alarms.

And so I went back

to my sorry sleep

where I'm free to dream

of something real and deep.

I guess it's just fate

which made life this way,

staying up too late

to wake another day...

Before I knew it

my eyes opened wide,

light pouring over me

I had nowhere to hide.

Burned Bishops

Brittle and brisk, like a kiss on your lips,

such sharp sentiments to match the songs.

Clear-cut and crisp, like the depth of my risk,

such languished lyrics reflecting my longs.

Drawn-out and dark, like your clavicle's arc,

I could not retrace where my tips should lie.

Welcomed and warm in a comforting form,

I could only point them straight to the sky.

Piercing and pale, like the point of your stare,

but I could not pick up on their sad shine.

Fearsome and fair, like the sting of your tail,

but I could not look back on things which aren't mine.

I can't control cravings I don't contain

but my burned bishops still play on my brain.

Rolling Raindrop

Raindrop, trickle down my window,

gather all your little friends,

do not stop or slow.

Raindrop, dangle and drip from the cill,

remain so transparently pure,

but let your clinging spill.

Raindrop, melt into the ground,

let the sun turn you into steam,

one day you will be found.

A Life to Pass the Time

Fill space,

fill time,

fill lungs,

fill mind.

Compliment my Colour

You are orange, I am red,

we are close but never wed.

You are violet, I am blue,

my bruises are violent because of you.

You are white, I am black,

you have the purity which I lack.

Sizable Steps

Let it itch, let it heal,

let it burn, let it peel,

let it bend, let it break,

let it hurt, let it ache,

let it pour, let it sting,

let it coil, let it spring.

Rub it red, run it blue,

let me improve, let me renew.

Hello Sunshine

Floating freckled smile,

stay with me a while.

Furrow into my fevered bead

and follow where my footsteps lead.

Refulgent orange rays,

shine on all my days.

Highlight every grain of dust

and help my tiring lungs combust.

Requisite sullen shade,

share the air you've made.

Dowse me with your darkest kiss

and let me share your secret bliss.

Losing Sight of Myself

Well oh well oh well oh well

things have changed, can you not you tell?

The gaps have grown,

the lines have faded.

I'm still alone

and feeling jaded.

My youth has been spent

and I'm out of cash.

I fear where I went

became a car-crash.

Dear oh dear oh dear oh dear

I hope another change is near.

I'm tiring fast

and becoming slow

I can't outlast

those fears I don't know.

So I should delve deep

and understand me,

both those fears I keep

and the dreams I see.

Running From/To

I could get into a good position

but then I would let the world pass me by.

My intentions never reach fruition

because I'm afraid of crossing the line.

I have much talent that I've buried deep

and it's so frustrating to slow my pace.

I cannot rely on a pair of feet

that do not believe they can cross this race.

I am hoping that time will make me strong

and I'll no longer have a need to roam,

then I'll find that which I had all along

and regard the ribbon's embrace as my home.

...but 'til then I will run and run and run,

and when I have stopped I can say that I've won.

Not One For Small-Talk

I don't care about the lovely weather.

I don't care how your father is.

I don't care what you've been up to.

I don't care how your new hairstyle looks.

I don't care about what's been on TV.

I don't care who I'd never guess had split up.

I wish I didn't have to care about seeming to care.

Haircut

I tried to cut my hair today

but my curly locks came crawling back.

I tried to force my faults away

but I could not find the will I lack.

I tried to be self-convincing

and tell myself I was in control

but for every part I tried rinsing

away with it went some of my soul.

I tried to be something I'm not

and find perfection which isn't there,

so I'll concentrate on what I've got

and be less concerned with my hair.

I'm Maturity

Why are we losing that sense of surprise

for subtlety and sensibility,

trying to sustain a serious skin

full of constrained credibility?

Where has my inner child retreated to

with his sudden jolts and his ajar jaw

and why do I seek to be in control

when my future does not belong in my paw?

I have been meaning to roll back the years

to where every sight was something pure

and I could feel no fear about my worth

and taste no guilt about being unsure.

I wish I had an excuse to cry out

to a world I know nothing about.

Corners and Corneas

Just as I'm gaining a new perspective,

I'm losing sight of another.

I know that I'm turning a corner

but I still feel as lost as I did as a child;

only this time I can recognise the feeling for what it is.

I find some hope in that my future

is looking much clearer than the hazy past I'm leaving behind,

and that my eyes are filled with much more focus.

My eyes are open,

it's a new morning.

Peel it Back

Summer golden

peeling away.

So milky white;

nothing gold can stay.

So shed your skin

to let life fade

and bathe within

the mistakes you've made.

Clean Fun

Habits go out of style

after a while,

and I guess yours do too.

I'll still be there

with new traits to wear

presented in a cleaner hue.

So I'll see you in town

with an OJ to down

and you stick to your JD.

I have not abstained

my want has just waned

and this is no longer for me.

Every Breath

Every breath is an excuse for the next

so please excuse me if I cannot speak.

I'm sure you're pleased to hear that I'm perplexed

and that my will and words have both grown weak.

Every breath is an excuse for my last

so please excuse me if I'm out of breath.

I'm sure you're pleased to hear that I'm aghast

and pondering the details of my death.

Every breath is an excuse for a rest

so please excuse me if my breathing halts.

I'm sure you're pleased to hear I failed my test

and I'm personified by my own faults.

Every breath is one closer to dying

but with every breath I am still trying.