Love is the drug

heart-drugs

Love is the drug I hear them say
Can I get it in a tablet or a nasal spray?
Love is the drug and it’s messing with my brain
Your detox did today but I’ll backslide again

Let me get caned in your cuddles
Do a gram of wet-eye-stares?
Or maybe try some methalove;
Warm and close but not as scary?

Love is the drug, light afterglow
My shot in the arm, your ultimate dose
My sweet narcotic of nuzzling necks
A sure-fire hit for knock-out sex

Love is the drug
The balm
The pain
Our tearing loss
Our need to do it again

From the soaring highs of love’s hot fix
Where blood rushes blindly inciting my psychosis.
We lie it’s forever. I believe it’s what hurts.
An infinite comedown and it’s aching our hearts.

 

Shakrilana

Last time in those pretty eyes
where your lust lay
behind cried spies
I sought fame
and found your breast
where rested head
these thoughts forget

Here the sun breaks bleak thru days
blown clouds fly free
float forms which ‘maze.
This last enchantment
seeks your gaze
though all are blinded
eyes ablaze

This single psalm is sung by tune
in pretty lanes
on afternoons
though winds and rain
fight for small sounds
their crash is quieted
when you frown

Just before the end of night

Got to sleep I so tired – got to
close my sleepy eyes try to shut
down rest now lay down get some
night right on my side

Every heavy blink I fight seconds
eat away this night fighting
morning time from bright light
sleepy eyes!

Part 23 (Teletart)

So he sits up
in the nights
to write?
He’s lying;
watches tele late
and early
sees nobody,
says
no
words…
Days roll on,
and on,
forever
– says he writes?
The liar never!
Always
with his square eyes
seeing others
living their lives:
He never sees
those real
people.
Stays indoors
and hides
from people –
it’s his lot!
But not his fault.
The writer’s
got no
real people,
but a frenzy
– pictured frenzy –
bending mind
and hold,
on real life…
So
there’s overflow
of telling
fancy tales
which should be told.

And next: Part 24.

Broken Glass

Time for a change –
curling gracefully moment’s glide,
altering aimlessly.
& inside our soft heads
this sweet tooth did not once
bite down or taste sugar.

As my mushed eyes
fade, squarely, to black.
In time, all that I see
is furred and fuzzy:
Broken scenes all about
in flat black and white…
There’s more to seeing than eyes though
& more to see.

Time for a change –
so roving eyes abound
& capture all fleeting edges
all blurs of life
whilst whisking minds
to new sites & sights.
Different views
for the latest views.

Quiet Night Sleepy

Open a window –
To let in the sound of the dark of the night.
Listen –
The hissing;
The whirring the murmurs:
A humming drone deafens your sleep-centred thoughts.
That silent sigh slips to the front of your mind.
A silence not broken,
A quietness defined.
So laying awake at the dawn of the morning
A wide open window –
For sleep-needy eyes.

Waiting for impatience

Such dedication from so many stars and this medication to stick up their arse how full and engaging the mighty play lights entertaining ideas that take most of the night. Where musical reasons take second seats back for the cat thieves and bread men who smell their attack! Well late and unstable a morbid curl comes rolling eyes wide and licking air just as well… Oh! Too late indeed for your eye-licking frenzy and caught by a lash these tears painfully leave.