Into Greener Pastures

Into Greener Pastures

Focus more on yourself
and less on the selfie

Those who capture little background
and all of the fore fall short of the fact
that the truth lies within the forest;
not in the tree line


What lies beneath

What lies beneath

the sapphire expanse
riddles beneath a sky
painted fair

through cerulean eyes
we dive into the depths
of a distant stare

where tears share
flavour with the howl
of a primordial storm

and rarefied desires
suffocate beneath the
archipelago of forgotten

how many unanswered
prayers layer the abyssal

for every shipwreck in
a bottle there’s a message
that couldn’t fit

where the spectre’s of pelagic
pathfinders wade through
voluminous azure

the undying prisoners drown
for entirety amidst a pitch
and opalescent allure




authors notes…

primordial: existing at or from the beginning of time; primeval.

rarefied: distant from the lives and concerns of ordinary people; esoteric.

archipelago: a sea or stretch of water having many islands.

abyssal: relating to or denoting the depths or bed of the ocean

spectre: a ghost

pelagic: relating to the open sea.

voluminous: very lengthy and detailed


Black Rain

Calligraphers glance through the mist
translating raindrops to blackest ink,
writing the night for our perusal

While shadows compose symphonies
before a sympathetic moon as though
they’re dying for the lights approval

We search for dreaming giants
behind the ambiguity of a rarefied
horizon, glistening like empyrean eyes

The bitter air biting our entirety
reminding us that in-spite of death,
we’re still alive


Read Me

Read Me

Your life is series of haphazard chapters compiled in a gripping page-turner and the trouble is that most people these days are far too lazy to read.

Instead they notice a few worn edges and turn their noses up because they’re looking for a flawless picture book to flick through. If only they knew that with a little time and investment they could open you up and explore a world of unimaginable authenticity.

There may be a few ropy and regretful chapters within but they’re a necessary part of your narrative. Your mistakes and wrongdoings are a reference point etched into the pages of history to serve in guiding you toward a perfect ending.

You have to break a heart before you can understand how to mend one; just as you need your heart broken if you’re to know what it truly feels like to be in love.

Don’t allow your past to consume your present – precious moments, finite in supply thrown away on the invariable recollections of a guilty conscience.

Let go of any past grudges; the person they were at the time no longer exists – And in the same breath if somebody is harboring any resentment toward you don’t let it drag you down; your mistakes do not define you as a person they merely helped shape you into who you are today.

Hatred is an unnecessary and poisonous idea that when pondered for too long amalgamates with your entirety rendering you worn and discoloured.

Instead you should nourish your life with love and watch as the seeds of decency blossom into bright smiles that beam with endearment.

You are the author.




Silentious whispers
waltz beneath the willows
as raindrops tap dance
through unsuspecting meadows…

There is as much beauty in chaos
as there is chaos in beauty
in that a thunderstorm is both awe-inspiring
and devastating
irregardless to where you are standing.

And so she tears through the silent night
with auspicious intentions,
woefully neglecting your wanting desire.
Convenience is nowhere
to be found within her vocabulary
as there are no longer subtle hints in the breeze –
only vicious tempests of ascendancy.





Your life has been a series of
mistakes that you’d regret each
morning if it weren’t for the
fact that you sleep until noon.

That’s the beauty of dreaming
your life away; your fears turn
to inaction and then before long
you never have any trouble
sleeping at all…

Because your reality becomes the
nightmare that you’ve been afraid
of all this time and when the
paralysis sets you find yourself
screaming a muted whisper in
the dusk – and nobody is listening.

There’s someone home but the lights
are off so get up and flip the switch
of indecision and put those bright
ideas into practice!

The sun will rise but unless you’re sat
by a window of opportunity you’re
going to miss it…again and again until
you no longer know what direction
in which you’re supposed to look.

Don’t sit around and wait for the morning
light to crawl through the cracks in the curtains;
draw them back and let the warmth remind
you of the new day that’s dawning.


Lunar Bloom

Lunar Bloom

prepare your angel
veiled invasion

glimmer lazy rays
of white

rise in silence

infatuating through
the night


painting solar

on this boundless
raven page

and swelling ethereal

from your interstellar


tide my soul with

through my hands
your ink-suffuse

i’m in orbit of your
shapely grace
sagacious lunar muse


In Asperous Lust

In Asperous Lust

Claw your craving
and etch this crimson
altercation over me;

Then breathe indecent
lyrics through your humid
lips in heaving heat.

Bow beneath the
darkness, beg for
blazing bites of wax;

I’ll write dominion
down your spine and
thrust until our hearts




To my beautiful mother,

I watch over you now
as you’d have always
done for me.

And if I had the answers to
the questions that consume
you; I’d write them in the sky
and whisper kisses through
the breeze…

You’re a survivor.
And I am within you still, strengthening
your resolve and silently guiding
you toward another sunrise…

And it will rise again, much higher than
this stolen horizon, glistening
in crystalline skies.

So dry your eyes and understand
that the cloudy skies are lying.
Because whether or not you
can see it now; always there is


Giants on the Horizon

Giants on the Horizon

Time flows like a river of
thoughts rolling toward
an ocean of actuality.

And as the memories begin
to fade, a solar scrutiny
precipitates them into
grayish obscurity.

Great clouds bound by
the past form up in the
sky and blot out the

They grow darker until
the burden of yesterday
becomes unbearable.

Decades well up and
condensate into seconds,
falling like tears from
antique eyes.

Alike the cycle of night and
day: life and death will
eventually have their way;
It’s only a matter of time.