The
Nights
Fury
Lacerates
Into tortured flesh
Fiery hailstones slowly embed
Underneath wailing dermis, sorrowfully bruising
A misplaced poet, madness gradually invading like rabies cultivating
Within tainted bloodstreams, forgotten faces liquify into frothing depraved moonbeams, psychedelic hallucinations corrupting
Underworld’s wolves broke their gate, snarling with labored breath, piercing of dawn welcomes a funeral of fireflies, eclipsed by a broken brain being delicately dissected by elongated canines feasting ravenously
I will find you in the moonlight,
as the hall clock’s chiming midnight,
drifting slowly with the moon beams
‘mongst the stars, caressing daydreams,
as your thoughts reflect your heart light.
Somewhere floating out of eyesight
through the cosmos, dreamy space flight,
while defying earthly slipstreams,
I will find you.
There we’ll kiss in dim of starlight
while enjoying love’s sweet birthright;
passions stirring in our bloodstreams,
hearts are racing ‘long the jet streams.
There beyond the stars at midnight
I will find you.
June 21, 2026
Poem of the Day - June 22, 2026
I know you are sensitive,
not sentimental,
but it has been four years,
that's one thousand
four hundred and sixty one days,
since enlightened tides kissed
those island shores.
My soul was wrapped in worn ribbons,
mourning my misplaced muse
and you were a whispering rose,
wilting at the slightest touch.
Bleeding 3am vents,
with conflicting vowels and consonants,
the sirens of your ink screamed
for a silent troubadour to
compose cathartic bloodstreams -
but life is not as pretty as petals and poetry.
A mistress to moonlight,
I found you crying at an apathetic moon,
so I cracked open your volcanic cocoon,
to open your eyes to cinnamon
and persimmon horizons -
now you float like an empyrean butterfly.
I hope you soar forever and know
I could have written for you,
as many verses as you have seen stars,
but we cannot cultivate in fields of unfairness,
where only dead blooms now decompose,
as you keep ignoring Cupid's cries.
Despite contradicting crossroads,
my heart is deep rooted
in wayfarer's wisdom,
knowing when there are no more beats -
you will honour me with a
requiem for an artist.
Simple Musings
My sizzling heart failing around the clock
No light colliding with the dark to spark
But essence dying passively through the dim
Dream's wall burning by the fire of terror
In a second, a sharp arrow infiltrates the soul
And silently overflowing blood around its artery.
Nothing emerged than an insane time,
Everything not set as materialised
There are volatile inheritance bloodstreams
Follows to end up with a quiet destination.
What a life ushers for nought...
No, no satiety to purify the lure in life.
Look at the moon shaded by a cloud
A hard rocky cloud
Cosmos horizon...
Never has it appeared over the sky
Even ancient times have yet to happen.
A silent mourning overthrows the time
A path continues to the graveyard
And I found a frosted body lying
cuddled with dreams.
A scamp life left behind the snag...
A presence of fervent destiny, a final milestone!
Waves of nausea crash against my splintering ribcage,
stomach churning, bile burning through esophageal walls.
Choking on paranoia-fueled delirium,
self-inflicted wounds etched upon a fragile psyche,
all while I try to hold on to some semblance of my humanity.
Push and pull, breaking down walls,
then building them back up, reinforced.
Love never came easy in delusion-filled memories,
always hovering at the cusp of fiction,
ready to strike like a coiled python.
Then, like glass, tears would cascade down,
begging for forgiveness.
Paranoia-induced hallucinations gripped my marrow again,
coursing through tainted bloodstreams,
blinding any sense of reason.
So life imitated drug-soaked nightmares
as my security slipped through calloused fingers once more.
While the rain pummels down against abandoned dreams,
I am haunted by you in this empty house.
Nothing but phantoms of the past roam
in the dead of night,
wailing in the deafening silence,
a requiem for my inner demons’ eternal torment.
I suprise myself
How many ways can I find to say I love you
It's you who lives behind my eyes
Your name is etched into my chest and every beat of my heart is a syllable screaming out to you
Your voice is the echo
We reverberate
What's in me is mine is yours
All the lines are blurred
Where I end where you begin,bloodstreams
Galaxies
Our love is the death of stars
My sublime supernova
I can taste the stardust on my tounge
Strawberry soaked wishes, whipped cream;
Lovestruck faces share a sweet bite,
those sticky fingers taste just right;
Under the soft moonlight they beam,
caught inside love's fanciful scheme;
Puckered lips shining in the night,
strawberry soaked;
Wistful desire rushes bloodstreams
bleeding through saucer eyes so bright;
In the wildness of this campsite
sugary romance dips the scene;
Strawberry soaked.
This "plague" isn't going away anytime soon.
We're openly told this is our new normal.
To bend over and over without any lube.
There's much to be gained by prolonging the pain.
From the made-in-China masks you're wearing.
From the made-in-China parts that go into COVID test kits.
The reds dream of pulling hearts from freedom's chest.
Barbed things are being thrust into our bloodstreams.
One vaccine, concocted from cells of two aborted babies from the seventies...
A boy and a girl, given letters and numbers instead of names.
Just like Jews that were stuffed into Auschwitz cattle trains.
This plague isn't going away anytime soon.
For it's a bonanza for big pharma and conglomerates.
At the deadly expense of the working-class stiff.
While they tell us not to gather in numbers.
The privileged party in Martha's Vineyard.
They released hordes of convicts onto the streets.
To protect THEM from a bug and not us.
They inoculated nursing homes with covid patience
While a mercy ship sat empty in Big Apple Harbor.
Fully equipped with a thousand empty beds...
This Plague isn't going away anytime soon.
Hypodermic needles
Get you medicine real fast,
Allowing drugs to enter
Into bloodstreams like a blast.
To transfer one’s affection
Like a needle-piercing drug
Can be managed very simply
Through the power of a hug.
The hug I mean is strong and close,
Enveloping and tight,
The kind that the recipient
Will know’s not just polite.
When I can see my friends again,
My children and my grands,
My hugs will speak a language
Every huggee understands.
for the Hugs Contest of Craig Cornish
Every person dreams of being in heaven
As for where is much closer to the sun
Being there you will feel warm and bright
And bloodstreams run happily Day and Night
Nothing will aguish your soft hearts
Songs automatically flow to everywhere
(Written about 2005, as a sonnet, but I cannot recall why I used 13 rather than 14 syllables per line. Maybe Petrachan? Forgive me if it fails the sonnet test.)
For My Wife and Daughters: STREAMS OF CONSCIOUSNESS
eighty percent water in me wants unity here
oscillating in bones, gurgling words in my bloodstream,
verging on vigorous waterways, my own river
converging dreams, I take our daughters to park and stream
few, if any, waterfowl and fauna peek at us now
tiny tributaries of separation bring dirt
now, even in spring, the waters are still running low
no flowers or flora frolic between sky and earth
we inhabit deltas of exuberance, then the freeze …
shallows of calm showed my girls sunfish, pebbles galore
abounding like diamonds in my land of jealousies
now, as streams in the world begin to slow, run shallow
I am one in the God of all, born of Africa
my daughters’ bloodstreams murmur songs of America
Tearing reality at the seams
Buried beneath these taunting dreams
Lost in countless data streams
Principles chase my themes
While promise redeems
Woe's booming screams
This lie reams
Esteem's
Schemes
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