days are shorter

I tell myself


the void must be filled

and what better than the night


like I she is no hunter

scours merely for acceptance


like / the loners

on pavements












why not act like a man / when you are

why carry a loose identity

to be peeled off when necessary

why the anxiety / the care

the world is not on your shoulders


you have handsomely

placed it on mine






























it has always been on my terms


money / or lack of

such carefree existence

yet far from



live by / rules

clouded with hypocrisy

while fastening a smile


turn on the light

and / I shall follow













one only needs to look outside

and smell the cruelty

abundant as summer’s / fruition

to revive what is left

in the wake of

an inspiration-drought


glorious / pigmentations

align the scope

everything swells

down to the feet

so why not the mind






















mornings / what dreary events

the alarm goes off

and we carry our bodies out of bed

like squealing children



we stumble / sit for a while

as temptation begins its masquerade

we savour our coffee

as if an exotic remedy

to wear off the pain

we stare at each other



 expressions are cruel


we huddle together / like family













sometimes / I neglect to thank

the Lord

and my days seem heavier


does he forget / who I am

























words seek validation

as actions seek motivation




fertilise nothing












it is selfish to love

to truly love

because we love

ourselves just as much

so love / makes us idle






































it is always time for bed

but never the time to wake / up

life becomes a chore

we roam we stalk we mingle

we do everything / that is meaningless

our destination is but a mirage

we become the joker

to kings

but in our dreams

we find ourselves


fulfilling the unknown

no excuses to falter / nor

intuition to maim us


what wonders

dreams do to us














someone will forget to remember you


because death takes away


the privilege of / priority


























the night

her cruel companion

seduces with sunken promises

and absconds with hers


she / calls on the day to

sit with her

a little longer












solace of the night


all / is oblivious




o v s


































remnants of a bygone supremacy

reminds us

of their monumental defeat


of a faded / glory













of others

will be kept


to myself


when I get bored

I / will share












a leaf

begins a journey



into / the lines of

an unwritten / libretto












days / sting


like salt / on wounds


as they bear / no significance






































walks along garden paths

the sound of birds corresponding

picture / of absolute serenity


quietude slips away / like smoke

into someone else’s mind

and my image of her fades












religion / an inconvenience


human nature / my sole dependency


this is where I station my faith





































expectations shelter

beneath a roofless dwelling

its voice demands attention
yet / it holds no integrity












water runs cold

skies / confuse

elements reverse











































write everything down so that


remember the things


 need to do / yet when


re-read them / they are exposed to scrutiny












the cat relishes

 my cashmere


we fondle / for a moment

shy away from eye contact


and before long

he reappears onto

the lap of another
































nightly / widow

the world is at your feet

why trail a forbidden extravagance












consolations / spring


bring no security


formality / precedes


leads to absolution







































my axis

floats in the rotunda

of / estimation


the sky never quite clears

and / the glorious morning pledged

has yet to reappear


the heart

is kept on a leash



it mutates













I lived / everywhere

east and west

now I live

where east meets west


I am at last at home

but this place I call / home

is not where I belong


























waiting is an excuse to be uninterested

in the impending matter of / unimportance












the cigarette burns



the smoke / exhaled

charts her journey










































he / smiles seamlessly

to align with

social conformity


he / takes off his glasses

to make him seem

less foreign


he / loses his accent

to abandon any childish



he / works at night

to justify

his days












unter den linden

wantonness / dallies beneath

your shade































words pulled in all directions

degrees of / assembly

settle without legitimacy

a / voice cries out


a murmur













his aroma

my / morning

hair flaxen

frames a set of azure


a face

I barely / remember



because / I no longer know
































outcaste for at least another year

divided / without derision



he leaves his mark upon the bottle












it is easy to reject life

for what it is


what we have we should

take for granted


dreams / cannot

escape a reality


to live is to enact the sins

why waste ourselves with the bland


at the end we all see the light

let us hope it is our / heaven






























sheathed in moonlight

a lean / figurine

draws an unlikely observer


he composes another sonata

in / her name












to be the constant cynosure


my back prepares for / another stab


but they fail to harm my vital organs


my pride and my arrogance




































shades of grey


my / only colour


their simplicity

gave birth

to me












define me / with

 your democracy

and you will only achieve

a step backwards


revive me / with

electric shocks

and all you will receive

is pity

































as I try to delineate

moss from stone

my hair / thins

and everything


to make / sense












the dome shrinks as I raise an eyebrow

it stands mightier in the mind


many flock to react / awe-inspiringly

only to hide their disappointment


ingenious / your glass facade

but you stutter in your message


modernity curtsies

before the grandeur of old

































where is the point

they amass a deluded / anticipation

and leave us less of a person

we were the day / before


a year marks another year

towards an end

it passes through a toll-booth

of an unformed / adulthood

we whistle in tune with innocence

yet our melody is complex

even at / forty

we play in our cots

our days spent philandering

with our toys


at what age do we reach our prime

even now / I have become none the wiser

still make the same regrettable mistakes


my head stoops

as I count from one to ten












obligations / submerge

enthusiasm grinds to a halt


the exact time remains / unclear

the ticking bears no rhythm

the sound of trumpets

salute the last hour

of another day of

silent impressions

















I have outgrown my primal shell

while my friends / remain in theirs


as I stare at the deserted cocoon

they inveigh / by labelling me


persona non grata


fortunately / my new family

needs no introduction












his / grievance






































the ergonomics / of friendship


broadens the scope / for exoneration













of curiosity


maroons atop / a ledge










































our hands never quite / touch


persiflage restores

our / childish ways


upon a diptych












as / she withdraws

with a decisive breath


she invites me

to re-enter her womb






































his configuration / incomplete

harnesses a supple pre-text

to a













she complicates our affair

with / her



boleo then media-luna


she leads as I / follow

this is our

argentine ritual




































she fine-tunes me

with her body-language

dusk is slow / in letting go


like nature

her rain is merciless

her sister-summits / brutal


salvation hides

behind her facial-clouds

my roof / begins to leak












I am left doing cart-wheels

to / attract his attention


or perhaps I should cast / a spell

to seek out the faintest

glimmer of hope


his face / unamused

I am left doing cart-wheels





























I hate everyone outside my window

they seem to ease / into life

without the suspicion / of others


 interactions of a pure morning












the squeal of a fire-engine

liberates me from my sleep

I wake / sodden

I question

all that is around me


is this my bed upon which I lay





































he / strips me of my patina

only to find a mould-stricken













she guides me / paternally


scent of patchouli

mimics / her absence










































to / wander


to / drift along her riverbed

to / sing a madrigal with her


my only purpose as a youth











our hearts synchronize

as we / rediscover our patois


she disinfects my wounds

the lies

covers / my bullet-holes

with her shroud


colours / me


she unties my hand and

and we talk diplomatically
































the last cigarette / is lit


before he completes / his verse

his attention deflects towards

a defiant congregation


he moves in / light-years

to wrestle with Monoceros

and Lepus












I forbid myself / to count the lines

that form along my characteristics

I refuse to diffuse / into another streak

of self-engaging protests

I stand / further away than usual

from my beloved twin

I conquer / these demons

and sacrifice them in the name of good-will
































women of the / spire

children of the / knave


no longer supports

the proceedings at the altar


feigned euphoria

keep-sake for the organist












his words are easy

mal-nourished /at best



hardly deformed / enough