razor oh zone.

Blinking sun rays
Seeping through fingers
Intertwined
Soft wind caresses,
Dragonfly dances
Sucking
On licorice lollipops
Fresh twilight dew,
Feverfew essence
Injecting the atmosphere;
Radioactive razor rays
Injecting the ozone layer

bridge the gaps; the mishaps

a beating pulse
a shock impulse
you weren’t here
you never were
you were in my head
I needed you
Just like Bert needed Ernie
Then one day you went away
And they asked me if I was lost
But I wasn’t
You showed me half of the way
Now I’ll make my own
I’ll hop, skip and jump
To the room you told me of
The one with the magic buttons

ka-boom~

Plunge deep within
Icy waters beckon
Tapered fingers
Reaching out
To touch warm skin,
Silk skin, milk skin
Dive in
Don’t be afraid
Don’t run away
Succumb; accept
Face the salt-waves
Shut your eyes
Inhale the bitter, saturated air –
The strawberry ice-cream is still waiting in the freezer.

colour me in

Paint over me
Fill in the blank spots
The spots where
Personality
Fails to show
The spots which
Make me empty
Colour me in
My soul is your canvas now

pave moodfly.

Jumping up and out
Of the rainbow wave
Slipping through the crack
Beneath the door
Eavesdropping
On the grass blades
Whispering plans
Of allergic reactions
Sipping
On a mango sun,
Digging deeper
To where the earthworms are
They regenerate the soil

fly high?

Hide behind the wall you’ve created
Send me a wire when you’re done being shy
Get high on things you couldn’t imagine
And watch the parade from way up high

-chorus to allan wazacz’s song sift the hay world, aka, sister hey world (:-

reflection of the brownian motion.

The stories will be clouded with doubt
And everyone you see will act indifferently
They’ll flash you a colgate smile
To shift your attention
Off the many conspiracies that shroud them
Break free of the mind bind
Because only you can
Clear the smoke
And shatter the mirrors

marshmallows on toast

I open my eyes
to the candy-coloured skies
My skin is like silk
My hair, pouring over my shoulders, like a jug of milk

My voice floats like marshmallows on toast
I hope I haven’t become a ghost
I smell a sweet scent
Is it Clark Kent?

My eyes are shut
My vision is cut
I was in a world of pure imagination
I wonder if I’ll ever go back to that weird creation

*one of my earliest pieces, i reckon its about 4 years old (:

the name is dave.

dave likes to chew
on tutti frutti chiclets
because he says
they make his mouth look
be-yoo-ti-ful
and he sings the
theme song to his life
in a pleasant monotone
while he ice skates on thin ice
that when cracked
holds the wrath
of darth vader on steroids underneath

-thanks to sacha haider for inspiration-

c’est mon histoire

Open my window
The one by the desk
There’s no sunlight
But the streetlamp
Filters concentrated,
Impure light
Onto the sheet
Of stark white paper
My story’s not complete
It’s not beginning
It’s just at that awkward middle stage
When nothing exciting ever happens