I entered Lennox House With a Blistered mind Swimming a sea of Confusion Surfing on waves of Insanity Drowning as the Sharks Locked the Door

A madness fuelled by solitude, a Queen of Spades in silence, a heart of gold a living soul, perished by divination.

Would you part with gold for a day in Paradise. Don the leaves of Adam or Eve follow the path to Shangri-La betwixt the twin peaks. Your dreams with vivid visions of horizons and paradise lost Xanadu is calling if you open your screaming heart. Would you part with gold for a day in Paradise. I say that you are already there open your eyes let go of the fear the gold you seek is everywhere.

Uncomfortable without your make-up your face-paint sprayed brushed layered lust hiding you hiding your better self denying us skin on skin touching a pretty face hiding

On the day of the reckoning the final day of the war the three remaining brain cells awoke at dawn One said: “Life on Mars is beautiful, authentic, Ford Capri. They should bring back National Service f@cking imm3diat3ly” Two said: “A Beautiful Mind. Delusional. The Loving Wife - blessed peace, He who understands the suffering - no worries need to feel” Three said: “Sorry Doc, I like being drunk. Dot was her mother’s name, the shark that swam across the sea wearing a ring of steel” They l

I don’t like your fingers they’re too long and too skinny like your legs without trousers like your promises without laughter the polished nails deep within my back who’s the weaker who’s the catch silence fall on waining moon troubled eyes cry alone

Poem. Language: English. First published in joaquinplana.wordpress.com

I cannot tell these lies no more no more pretending my voice carry clout White seagulls disturbs the blue sky above at rainbows end an empty coffer awaits Madame, S’il vous plaît share this thin ice with me the water’s cold beneath the surfaces of old no hellish fires can melt them down no matter how many lies are told

I am innocence personified, white as falling snow, the shining light in the darkest of Scandinavian folk lore. Growing up to be the man I am today, I followed the rules stipulated in the book of better men. I learned the truth about Arson Breaking and entering Death of Friends Drink driving Driving without a license Illegal arms Speeding and blowup dolls so many thing that could label me a terrorist today, but then it was just part of growing up, everyday. I was innocence pe

I said “Hey Gorgeous” but nothing sticks on Teflon shoulders I said “Hey Gorgeous” but high heels walked away lonely I said “Hey Gorgeous” wanting you to understand it was only my third time I said “Hey…” turning around regretting I say less these days but you’re still gorgeous

A new day is dawning, your silent comfort interrupted by green faces’ stare from beyond the tree line, whispers of librarians burning their bras in a desert mirage, fishnet stockings fluttering in a tree nearby, today will be a good day for tart

I’m surfing on my latest brain wave, clarity hits me as I fall in a momentary laps of concentration - mindfulness gone awry

I wanted you to keep me on the straight and narrow to bring out the best in me forever and ever Little did I foresee your plans of padded walls and jackets with extended arms to align me with the rest of your world The creative flow as water in winter never quite reaching the peaks it used to anymore I wanted You but You were not quite You and neither was I and I hope you see that too

The language of my dreams is Silence Muted colours flickering among Shadows Mist and mostly twilight fills the Path of Righteousness without knowing if it is me walking or the Silence talking

My Angel stay away as I walk walk and talk to myself and you is never there anymore my voice echo between concrete walls, pebbled and grey like a tank-top covering your Features My Angel stay away as long as I continue to talk to myself everyday pebbled and grey

The flickering of candles aligned but scattered in sand as pine among fern mesmerising tranquillising silence fills their whispering prayers