BlackOut Poetry #3.
The silence that vibrates in the soul
touches all those brave enough to feel.
Like the writhing body of a restless dancer
forced to move to an unheard rhythm.

Looking Up.
Oh to sit and watch the sunset reflected in your eyes
as the moon and stars swirl with delight
Nothing seems better than this night
but for the end of today
I will be your cliche
as we settle like dust in this town.
But his ambitions returned
dissecting the winter of lucid insights
as a doubting painter before his death.
Slipping between fiction and reality
the heart is a twisting motion belieing itself, wringing itself.
 

Catch me coz I'm right at the edge and ready to fall. 

Kitchen Poetry # 23.
He slashed.
He whipped.
It was refreshing to press the rind to his lip.
He was smiling.
He felt young.
As the cool liquid washed over his tongue.

Kitchen Poetry # 22.
He granted her one more day of life prepared and served with anticipation of phantom caresses amidst the tickle of spices that teased the senses.

Kitchen Poetry # 21.
There's a silence.
Eager eyes look to me for wisdom, a sound bite, something to keep in their file of 'things to never forget'.
Don't you know I'm clueless too?

BlackOut Poetry #2.
In the fleeting moments of pleasure
we find happiness.
For we can’t have everything we want
without effort and suffering and problems and tears.