Thursday, December 31, 2015


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......whether you should do it tonight,
why not, what could possibly go wrong this year.

Happy New Year *kiss kiss*

Sunday, December 27, 2015

Dreams of the Innocent

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Can you feel the breath, it changes,
vibrations lead the way to follow,
requir’ing blinding faith you do not feel,
towards a realm that’s at the fringe
of your reality, reach out, don’t falter,
assent will lead you through the gates to me.

Tuesday, December 22, 2015

Meet me on the Sidewalk

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     The raindrops fall freely from silver skies onto dancing forms with thirsty skin and heated breath,
     savouring the thousand fingers that trail down their limbs, a river, not meant to cool the soul, but stroke the seeds of desire that lay dormant in the drought and they sprout,
     reaching out to lick and taste and feel and absorb the drops from your glistening skin,
     the need to have and engage a single-minded purpose from which you cannot deviate,
     you cannot withdraw from my privation, you may not remove yourself from me until my shattered world is rebuilt with colour and life, and my aching roots can rest for a while, they’ve been fed, they are sated, their thirst has been slaked. For a while.

Sunday, December 20, 2015

The Reign of the Sun

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    The sun reigns supreme whereas I am longing for wet black skies and violent nights, where thunder competes with the lightning strike and the wind roars its objections, sweeping me south because I am meant to feel these vibrations on my skin, the lightning course through in my blood and rush towards eternity by your command alone.
     So give me the darkness, give me the night, I am tired of happy crowds and fluffy clouds. I cede control to the storm in the sky.

Thursday, December 17, 2015

The Judged and The Unfettered

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  I left behind the city lights, the tarnished gold that filled my pockets, to follow the highway with the broken veins of those who lost their soul in the place they thought they’d find it.
  The silver ribbon of light from the moon leads me to where the waves meet the forest and I feel the need to shed my cloak, my clothes, my kin, and I follow the intoxicating scent of the moonflower to a blazing bonfire, where free spirits cavort with instinctual glee to the sounds the dark night emits.
  I watch in fascination, hypnotized and bewitched by the energy bounding off them in ever-increasing circles to reach the edge of light, further, reaching for all the lost shadows and urging them forward into the clearing.
  As I enter the sphere of light, a wave sweeps through my consciousness, ripple after ripple rolls over me, a million fingers touching every surface, every crevice, exploring, tasting, testing, gauging…
  and I follow the call, spiral into faultless silence to be erased, extinguished, down to my essence, and with only impulse and inclination, I can rise unhindered and unjudged in the shape of who I am.
  Now I can release my energy, let it flow back into the dark forest, over the highway with the broken veins, to cross the path of another lost shadow, point them to the silver ribbon of light from the moon.

Sunday, December 13, 2015

House of the Wolf

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I don’t think I ever was an obsession for you, a raw desire than needed to be gratified, you did not seek to capture, conquer, tame.  I am not the memory that is triggered by the sight of the white moon rising over the darkened forest, the scent of the night you inhale and need to own.  You do not see the dancing spirits of my soul as they swirl in coloured streaks before your eyes, and although I’ll never doubt your full possession of my body, you do not see in me.  It is easy to enslave the flesh, but he who enslaves the soul, is the one who owns you.

Thursday, December 10, 2015

Stardust Wisdom

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Yesterday can tie me into knots of guilty choices and regrettable reflections, as can the images I project from an uncompleted screenplay, be distorted by the blinkers time holds in my sight.  So next time I’m contemplating a constant, would it not be prudent to lift my head, smell the sunset on my skin, walk into the summoning water without a thought or hesitation and drown in the squeals of delight and shock my senses imprint on me?  I've been told it’s intense in the here and now…

Thursday, December 3, 2015

Perfect Self-Destruction

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I have an image in my mind, you are pinned to the floor, have no-where to go, by my body that is holding you down, skin to searing skin, and I look into your eyes, drink you in until we sink, you sink into my body and I sink into your soul; slowly, deeper, to the moment of admission when you move parameters beyond known bounds. Take what you must, provide what I must have, I am yours to own, if you give me what I want.

Wednesday, December 2, 2015

And then it's gone

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I’m watching the rain clouds building in the far-off distance, the cool fingers of a darken sky brushing my cheeks, and I feel the thunder rumbling towards me, muttering dissent at having been denied free reign to assault the parched land for too long, but the hot breath of the sinners strikes a gale of fiery anger, and denies the storm once more.

Monday, November 30, 2015

Country Fairs and Candy Apples

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I seem to be absorbing a frenetic energy,
I cannot isolate it as it pulses and vibrates
with a rising intensity, it climbs and climbs
until the world erupts from the madness of imploded reason
and while electricity crackles on your skin
you are frozen eternal with a stranger in your skin,
who’s in control of your reactions, sensations that so dazed you,
confused you with their intensity, you are wondering whether
you existed at all before now.  How can you turn away from that.,,

Saturday, November 28, 2015

"We're only human"

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Punish me for my scandalous ways, punish me for my indiscretions,
hold me accountable for every wilful act committed knowing the destruction I will face when I reach the end,
and do not reserve your judgment to me alone, face the judgment of your indiscretions, too.

Friday, November 27, 2015

7 8 9

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I need it, yet I can’t find it,
my pocket of silence where I can retreat,
where I am protected, comfortable, where I cannot be found
and you cannot sneak up on me, there are warnings in place.
 It’s cool and it’s warm; soft, hard and exciting,
I can wander on paths through a forest I’ve designed,
speak out, take in, run, sleep or walk,
and I can colour words on white pages,
sing with the Black Keys or just lie on the lawn
where I can watch those funny little creatures that float before closed eyes
directed at the sun.

Tuesday, November 24, 2015


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Tomorrow has passed twice, yet I’m still in yesterday,
I am hov’ring in a daydream, quite surreal in its display,
hearing voices calling to me, I am lagging in a cloud,
I can’t get a decent grip, so I guess I’m still unfound.

This insufferable place is the means to a dream.
Change your attitude until your situation changes.

Sunday, November 22, 2015

The Eerie Light of Bewilderment

It’s a freefall as you step off the cliff,
wind whistling its notes of suspension,
a time warp distorting everything you see.
 Awareness override images
with a wave that seals the lips,
while eyes record what the mind can’t absorb,
and you fall and fall and fall…..
 The old and the new sweeps through me,
a kaleidoscope of sensations, memories, nostalgia,
fatigue, with an obscure touch of excitement
at the unknown horizon I now look at every night.

Monday, November 9, 2015

Follow That Dream

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I have traversed my timeline, went by many days marked with an X, for a target, a destination, towards an end.  Or so I thought.  

But just as time never changes its pace, so too the mind keeps on thinking, shifting, creating and dreaming, to which my hand responds by reaching out to scribble over the X I’d marked as I stretch towards a new destination, a little bit further along this line.  

Now after 600 months torn off and discarded, I hope I never reach the end, I hope I never cease to scribble in my notebook of madness and dreams, as that would mean I can no longer see, I can no longer feel, it would mean I’ve run out… and that, I believe, is where my timeline ends.

Friday, November 6, 2015

In my Eyes, the World

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  Accept this as my love for you, the words I’ve never spoken;
an intensity too significant to explain, far too endless to contain,
borne from wisdom obtained from a grief so deep it tore my soul apart,
rendered senseless by truths, I struggled to stand, I was raw,
at the futility I feel at not being able to arrange the world to agree with your every dream and adventure,
and the wrench in my heart, every time I have to let you go.

Thursday, November 5, 2015

Wanderers of the Universe

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 In her nightmares there weren’t any monsters, no scary creatures she could see.

It was the howling wind of her protesting soul that swallowed the daylight and locked her in purgatory with yesterday’s ghosts stealing her breath, tomorrow’s demons speeding past the windows in an ever-tightening circle.

10 Years have passed in the blink of an eye in the frozen state of a nightmare from which she couldn’t rouse, the fist of the dark night had encased her heart and her space.

But then, I don’t think even shE reckoned with the destructive force of a screaming spirit intent on breaking free from the staged world in which she was placed, from the bonds she had forged herself, it was deafening the crack as she obliterated its hold from her psyche, from her dimension, a final time.

Wednesday, November 4, 2015

Tomorrow we'll try again...

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Some days the only wise deed would be to release and let be of what is,
curl up in your favourite space, let the rock legends of old take you on highways,
to the devil, into hot summer nights.  Immerse yourself in guilty memories
with endings you choose them to be, about the loves you found,
the ones you lost, the carefree days that stretched into tomorrow,
and we would never die! with the bass that trembles through your body,
you re-live it all again, in this momentary escape from the madness
of this crazy, crazy world.  Tomorrow we’ll try again…

Saturday, October 31, 2015


Silence rips through blackened hours, each tick of the clock tightening the knot in your stomach. The lump in your throat grows ‘til you’re barely able to breathe, and you sit frozen in this emptiness, the mind frantic, your fingers itching to rip open your skin so that the torment that has no identity and no description can leave, but your jaw clenches, locks in your words, muscles burn, tears can’t touch this blaze and you die a little bit, ashes floating into oblivion, the only sign of life, a racing pulse in your veins.

Friday, October 23, 2015

And so it begins...

His gaze wafts a spell that disturbs the parameters of her reality, an irrevocable shift to which she responds, receptive to the vibrations and heat that spills through open windows and doors to dance with her every sense, now alive with an electricity that sizzles as it is grounded. Her fingerprints brand his skin.

  Thirsty eyes follow a trail of sparkling colours across glistening flesh into a fire the depths of which as yet unexplored, and it sends her pulse racing, she’s obliged to find the elusive limit and he said he’d take her there.

Thursday, October 22, 2015

The Mist in my Mind

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You strike with dazzling precision, words, rough and abrasive, slice through my existence. You’re meant to strike my monsters, not me.

  Instead you feed my fears, replay my nightmares, suck the laughter from my lungs, to leave me naked and bruised on the cold, cracked floor.

  The windows are closing. Can you see the shutters drop into place *THuD!* Isolation. I have taken your voice, erased your authority and shifted into a realm of solitude and darkness, a place where you pass unnoticed and are incapable of inflicting any more harm.

Tuesday, October 20, 2015

20th St. Cafe

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Free choice is in a far-away place, in a town without a name,
where, clouded in obscurity and the shadows of the mountain,
you can rinse your vision with each breath of the mist
that drifts through the valley to greet your soul,
you're electrified by its invisible touch.
 Then wash your wounds with the salted waters that rolls,
it's ancient words washing you closer to the edge of freedom,
so cease your struggle, don’t burn your spirit with tethers intended to tie you to the ground,
‘cause that’s just not the way to go for those who're meant to fly.

Wednesday, October 14, 2015


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 Every so often I get the urge to fall into a dark night. Loud music flowing through streets filled with crowds and lonely people is where I can lose myself in the chaos of merrymaking and alcohol, through streamers, confetti and illegal substances, a smorgasbord at a medieval feast.
 Court jesters call you in, their mesmerising flavour weaves a spell that anesthetises your monsters and a compelling intensity drives you into a night of recklessness, delivering your indulgences and you feed your cravings, you feed.
 It’s the midnight of my soul that reclaims possession when I see my self in the river into which I am staring, where I see every cruel secret and feel every haunted sin, and I wonder, knowing what I do, why my thoughts still dare traipse through these waters, that can utterly absorb every part me, if they so choose.

Thursday, October 8, 2015

The Calling

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There’s a devil on my shoulder whispering stuff into my ears, which my traitorous senses eagerly acknowledge.  The notes he strikes are clear, drawing images on my skin that reaches out in response as my instincts hone in on the object he has chosen as my prize.

In the abject world that pronounces it wrong to fly with your impulses, immerse yourself, deep and long into the heat that blazes inside, lick the flames of your wild and unbridled hunger high into the night and only turn back once you have slaked the thirst that can consume you, if you disregard its whisper for too long.

Wednesday, October 7, 2015


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My words don’t fear judgment, they do not need comprehension, and they are in no specific sequence and order, but in the way I choose to place them.
They creep from foggy forests and long forgotten kingdoms that have grown all the while from when I was a child. They reflect the streets I drive in, windows closed, doors locked. They urge me along the highway when feel-good, loud music and the depression of the accelerator seem to be inexplicably linked.
They are the laughter on your lips, the nightmares in my dreams, the freedom only rebellion and the prohibited can provide. They are me, born to hot summer nights and cold, dark winters. Words are my toys and my walls. Words are more than just words. Words are alive.
chEErs kAReN

Monday, October 5, 2015


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I want you bare. Every inch of you bare before me.
I want to see your pulse racing in the vein along your neck
and I want to hear your ragged breath calling my name.
 I want to know the words to the pictures that play off in your eyes
when you open long locked doors to let me in, just a little bit.
I want to seek every adventure that you dream about, day and night,
and I want to fall into the waves with you, like you did when you were nine.
 I want your naked body, every inch alongside mine,
and I need your naked soul, so I can fall and let go of the line.

Sunday, October 4, 2015

The World in Black and White

Feed me to the night, where I see more than the brightest sunlight can ever reveal.
Senses tingle when dusk strokes its purple breath across my skin
in anticipation of the waiting night that comforts,
its velvet black soothing ragged nerves into submission.

Moonlight washes through me,
separates meaning from the meaningless,
I aM the shadows.
Unobserved, scattered,
visible, only what matters,
cracks and blemishes that mar
reduced to what they are……
......insignificant details……
......nothing of consequence……

Friday, October 2, 2015

View from my Window

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 I’d rather stay behind the window, behind the glass that filters the clamour to an assailable level, and separates me from the madness that feeds poison into my veins, infiltrates my body without permission, and annexes my mind with images intended to stifle my imagination, stilt my freedom and pollute my thoughts with blocks that are meant to crumble, meant to collapse, so’s to create mindless pawns incapable of original thought, without hope of survival, from the onslaught of the monster that is speeding directly into our path.

Wednesday, September 30, 2015

Just Another Statistic

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Dark, dark, hollow eyes stare
at the emptiness surrounding her
the day she lost her shadow
to the calling of the dare.

Yes, heavy is the veil of sorrow
that’s descended into the air, this space, my bones,
your missing breath, your presence,
your forever-there presence that’s now gone. gone. gone.
……I don’t care much anymore, for this game.

Saturday, September 26, 2015

The Waxing Madness of the Moon

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Where does it come from, this need
to shatter in the most beautiful way possible,
to flow in the river of anticipation where expectations
never cease to surprise with deep fulfilment,
so maybe that is why I choose to chase the howling wolf
under full moon into the shadows to succumb
to whatever he elects to place in my hand.

Thursday, September 24, 2015

Listen, come and listen...

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I have learnt to deal with my shit, why don’t you deal with yours?  We all have our demons to terrorise into submission, vexations that keep us at the edge of nerves that sing louder the tauter we’re able to stretch, and you know what? Just shut them up, smother them in a silent mist, so that you can breathe for a while, sink into the falling dusk, the purple night sky, the beckoning shadows from the depth of the forest, and feel the music as it swims through your veins.  Come and listen with me for a while, it is very pleasant here…

Sunday, September 20, 2015

The One that Follows

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Lifeless as the broken wings of a butterfly in the wind,
my heart reaches out to you but I cannot let you in,
it is I that drown in the flood that I am in.

The waves break above my head again, I’m engulfed by the tempest sea,
that feeds my tears into the sky but rain can’t wash me free.
I will drown before you ever me will see.

I don’t belong, there’s no missing breath, as if I'd never been,
my footstep gone, a thousand years, I’m the sea upon your skin,
but I drowned before I could’ve let you in,
I drowned before I could’ve let you in.

Friday, September 18, 2015

Dance to the Tambourines

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Tonight we dance in the wilds of the woods
in moonlight that colours silver our limbs,
the smoke of the fire calls out to the spirits
who lick the flames high into the night sky.

Follow the queen with bells jingling from her hips,
let the song of the earth sing through you,
she releases your soul into the ethereal light,
mingling sweat that is glistening on our skin.

Wednesday, September 16, 2015

The Monsters Underneath Our Bed

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The dreamers, the loners, observers by choice,
the teller of tales and those who dance under the full moon,
we all walk as written, with a quill and ink,
the path paved with monsters looming underneath our bed.

We are sinners. Sinners with good intentions,
who listen to the melody of the moon
when sleepless nights follow restless days,
when even the stars hide shyly behind the breath of a cloth,
and we hear the unspoken, feel the unsaid, we do what our monsters tells us to do.

Tuesday, September 15, 2015

One Thought Leads to Another

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  Dream. I love to dream. And I love to sleep. I especially like that moment when you slip away into your personal heaven, although I NeVeR remember it.  But it 'feels' like a tunnel of multi-coloured ribbons through which I zoom at the speed of light in a cushion where nothing, nothing can hurt me, and it’s loud and quiet all at once, and I can taste the sugary sweetness that runs though my veins, it fades into me and I become a weightless, timeless, perfect nothingness. A blank slate for me to create. And thus I begin...


Friday, September 11, 2015

Once I was a Lonely Girl

Once I was a lonely girl, I did not belong, to nothing, to no-one,
who prayed for a stillness she couldn’t capture, and she prayed for silence! Silence! from the unending influx of pictures that streamed through her consciousness unbidden, a piercing hell of clamouring voices, one louder than the next, vying for her attention when all she wanted was to disappear into oblivion, into a thick mist, frozen by the eerie silence that holds you on an early weekday morning, and all you can see are the imagined outlines of what should be beyond the blinding, radiant white, whilst another traces whispers of ‘you are truly alone in the world your imagination created…’ on your skin…  
……it’s easier to embrace the flames. Bound through space, feel the thrill of agility and speed, feed your darkness, revel in the prohibited realms where you can express your self unhindered by judgement, fore when your star explodes, you are scattered into the fibre of aLL, you breathe to others what they need to see, and it is there, exactly there, where I am meant to be.

Wednesday, September 9, 2015

my story

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The touch of the moon scribbles over my dreams with a restless passion that pulls me into the silence of the night.
I’m compelled to heed the urgency of this call, this yearning into his darkness where tomorrow is in the palm of my hand, and I can feel his bidding like braille on my skin, impressing upon me the map of infinity where sanity and madness merges with the howling wolf, and I can run with the pack on an empty stretch of forever before I burn up in this darkness, lined with picture I would otherwise never get to see.

Sunday, September 6, 2015

It Is But An Illusion?

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I am watching the invasion of alien seeds into the forests behind the home of my birth, blown here on the angry currents of heated winds from the fires of a hell in an unknown land.
But they do not respect the ways of this forest, their scent overwhelming the harmonious balance of a system my forefathers carved with their blood.
They inject their roots amongst roots of old, laughing at our monuments in celebration of our birth right, strangling my voice in the foreign tongue of falling leaves, as they extend their reach of slow extinction, the extinguishing of my being.

Monday, August 31, 2015

I am... MooN

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I am the chill of premonition in the weak light of the morning, when content and context have no meaning or relation, to the tumbling thoughts relevant to the day that is passing in front of your open eyes as you stall, hover, unable to induce motion into your limbs that heed vibrations your waking being, cannot perceive.
I am the forgotten moon that rises late afternoon while you are rushing through a To Do list that will in no way comfort the lonely hours of the night, when images tear you from a restless sleep with skeletons rattling through the stillness of the shadows,
I am the Cheshire Cat that feeds mischief into your heart and into your head, that lets out the frivolous teen you keep carefully controlled and in line lest you be thought of as a child, and I lead you to indulgences which will curl up your lips when you’re resting in the shade of the oak tree, the one you once protected, which now protects you, in turn.
And I am the howling wolf, the centre of every urban legend, of lovers and serial killers, of madness and sanity. To broken hearts and soaring dreams I speak with words no-one can hear, but feel the ripple of anticipation when a blessing I bestow on you, so too the shiver of a warning when your intentions do not align, fore I am the silver sheet of protection that dusts every sleeping soul I see.
                I am,

Saturday, August 29, 2015

To Beach

In my dream I can feel the rays at 11 o’clock in the courtyard of the village,
I can see the touch of a smile as a picture clears in your head
in those unguarded moments you believe yourself alone,
and I want to sweep you up into my heaven,
where the scent of the mist from the forest
swirls into your being a clarity that lets you shape your world
into the image that is in YouR mind…

Friday, August 21, 2015

Wild is the Night

Perceptions stolen by the daylight slide through you
in a warm-cold flush that arouses every sense.

The t-shirt that rubs against my skin a gentle whisper of your breath
when you seduce me with your tongue, your mouth, your words just a murmur
that hums through my veins and connects with the off-beat vibration
that’s the spirit of dark nights, of wild existence.  Nothing is questioned,
nothing is asked and what you assent to is acceptable... with a hiss of recognition,
our senses intertwined, and thus these words that formed from my lips:

“May I take your hand, I’ll lead you, no need to think, just follow me,
feel the light that is your eyes reveal to you what I can see,
breathe the sweet addictive scent, into your veins I want to creep,
yet I promise to hold you as soft as the breeze that kisses your naked skin when you sleep,
and your pleasures, most freely, I’ll let you feel.”

Tuesday, August 18, 2015

Ferns and Mushrooms

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“I could cry you a river
but the well in me is dry
I am tir’d of deferment
beware what I here untie
there’s a haste in my step
trembling what beneath me lies
I am honed for the kill
pleased if you would just comply!”,

screamed the wind that tore through the boughs of the trees,
through a valley of green, of ferns and mushrooms,
that drew colours on your tongue with the nectar of a moonflower,
and you can feast on your instincts that have glow(n) through time.