Ashura if my mind was a blank slate, my mind miss my eyes never will be. should those thoughts be forgotten, my mind never be wiped clean. if my mind was a blank slate, no space altered ever be. should sun's rays blind eyes, turn my head, my mind... shiny sheen. so blast my mind give no shade, the moon the stars ,let all fade. My Third Eye An ant encircled my finger-point it detected the deadly stench of humans and it retreated under the carpet right into my heart. A vague purplish veiny hue triumphed; Palpitation to a halt. Constricted souls and vague hearts. My inflated pipes, the hungry blood Bank. Your leaking juices, a coin purse. None to give only more to take, My bloody finger your absent heart. None Without Draw out one for one for one for that fish-netted crinkle you wear out without smile within. Fill up... one by one by one by tippytoed pointe and generous glides Away streams within crying Out. Another Race The differences bw human beings r bounteous. But what more Humans with other species. Our understding is limited because we are only part. Part of our kind. Bred from our own ways, our own thought. Dismantle all rules n preconceptions. the next thing u say will fall into the trap. Just as we all hope for acceptance, so do the others. the common of all our species. Bounded by our own frame n ways, do not judge an individual by the whole race. Do not even judge the race from our own upbringing. Raise one level from the other. Just as u can understd me, or the people around you, do the same for others. The onie difference is time and space. Nothing is constant, or truly objective with human beans. What that we are bred from, what are we are not in a day's work. it's not clean from the bloodshed of the past. Our mouths run with judgement when our minds become limited. Adrift i think we r jus workin ourselves back to where where we came from n what we were. more a wheel than a spiral. not so much corruption, but i think yes, blinded. tamed to thick clouds in the eyes. trained to backseat consciousness. its after all a long ride with no known destination. Locks when i walked home, it was the beautiful enticing golden setting sun again.....beautiful its rays far n wide......warm n embracing. then i lked thru those nbranches of those trees on both sides of the road ( like the opening of a magical forest)....all tt glitter of those leaves n those spaces between...they all fell like amber thru on me.....can u visualise tt? n the breeze came....n i wisehd my hair was as golden.....then it could all spin like honey, the whole world. Foreign Dream if i stuck my hand into the sand straightwards down...how deep do u think i could go? will i bleed if i the granules were running into my nails n it was gettin denser n denser.... the numbing by the saline... do u think my one finger can pt the 'ground'? can u find me if i were in it all... step on me not knowing my presence in that time and space..... this time soaked by the sea ur feet still on me washed and me drinking off u. drinking off you. drinking from you. drinking you. Women's Verdict i see black dots everywhere amongst leaves on leaves....spots,....digital spots.... black dots on red houses, black dots colourin a horse... breathe in, breathe in, breathe in, breathe in, and in and in..... cough n spit it out. J 10 steps to the right 5 steps back. 15steps bckwards wif open arms spin to ur left. take a bow.curtsey. great performance Spun when we kissed in the rain i just let it fall on my face....wow u noe i have never felt this wonderful feeling before???? bein kissed by two ;) the rain and you. One- Seater It's a game we play. What's this game we play? The dice we drop before our fingers lifted. Envy and awe and uncertainty when we don't understand your Art. Why do we dive the depths for knowledge? A double- reflective regalia. The two-faced God. You look in this way You look yourself from the other. Envy which stems from the hungry Self, starving and ill. It's called Insecurity. It masks its rattrap--- its a diagnosis by its own kind. Your craving body drugged; hunger sustained. The colourful assortments and your delightful adornments. They are called the 'necessitated necessary necessities'. The brimming and cracking and exploding shell, the screaming, hollow and pitted soul. 'We buy not, we eat not. We think and it feeds.' Our triumphant dance to a truth we imagined. A spiralling game. It's the same, it's the same. The trap sieves no thing, the brain and the brawn, just be packed. Be my stuffed bird. A bottomless pit but we return as Alice from the other end. Time tells time heals. But we Alices, need no time in our circles. Pain numbs and pain nurtures. Round we go. Run Alice run, not within but without this pleasure race. A shooting star, the trailing tangent. Live Or Life. It's a game we play, a game we play. The orchestra plays, the choruses chant, but we run, we run. Round our timeless circles in our timed world. And we run, we run. Your nose is running, your eyes shooting darts but your heart plays to a still. Choose my big Innocent. Choose. If you do, you'd not lose. It's a game you play. Only a game you play. You play. One hand flung those numbers, the other held me. These hands who held me i give my maternal embrace. You are the one i bind myself to. My will, my will, my stranded rusty squeaky will. But you chose you chose. You mistook me and you chose. Conception jails you from Innocence, Sorry, did i mention it was a rat-trap? Well, so it is! It's a game You play. My numbers read Tough Luck. My thinking hands lifted Yours, I played i did. It's a Game. Who that could conceive it is bound by it. Conception does not bend wrong or right. The dice roll, beware if you see them, you would have to choose. If you didn't you would now. Oh not just one but two! The peppered though skinny Soul or the fat but succulent Self.... which Sir,...they are both just as good oh but only when you finally could be seated. its like the shooting... you dunnno where it lands, but it's like the most beautiful thing around. It's like a dream, but we all noe it's a fallen star. All Those Stolen Sundays Sunday afternoons I know i'm safe, it's here. My sultry sun and the coconut palms; you at your machine and me in my paints. Wednesday nights I'm not too sure. There are quiet moments to loud to hear myself think. And eat, and eat or sleep. Saturday evenings are never trusty. He screams into my ears warning Death. Disbelief, and of a faraway place I'd never reach. I have seen this before. You look stunned. Behind your anger I see your fear. You hid. Behind the curtains, unveiling tears. You spoke. Through your anger I saw her appear. She hit. Through my festered laughter, she disappeared. I bled, you fed. My tears, you bled. I have seen this before. You and her. Water Baby It must have been the darkened streams, and the dimmed lights, for twice I passed in this fateful night. Twice it was, in one night's swim, gilled little babies who showed me light within and life without. I hadn't seen you before but you smiled. Beyond the green waters, I was certain no baby could falter Me another for regardless, the first cherub had stolen, me, love and play. It was round the bend, you snatched my hand and danced, danced, you danced... How one baby could give all its cavernous displays I didn't know but I received its heart before it glided away. Now in my hands two promises laden, two crossed my path and one would stay. I know not how but this night's dance cannot remain. I Didn't It was too shallow. It's too soon. The rain would arrive and it would show. Curled, Cold, Dead. It's too small. Pygmy people are not people. She said sorry. It's too soft. Her hands weren't there to keep you warm. Putrefied, infirmed, festering hearts for this one life is too small. ** my hamster passed away yesterday morn