Cirque du Jour

What lies above are scarred tales of potent joy.

What lies beneath is the reality of an abused toy

(Asiad Circus 2006)

New Muse

A half-written screenplay
A new found devotion
Whoring myself from
Passion to passion
I cant seem to finish
What i pick up
I cant seem to start
What i left behind

A cigarette left burning
With lipstick on the rim
A brushstroke still missing

The paint caked and dry
A half-eaten morsel
A new found elation
Flickering eyes from
Passion to passion

Irony in Sin

Groveling, Enraging, Throbbing, Dirty, Wanting, Needing, Passionate, Consuming.......

An amalgamation of volatile emotions, movements, heartbeats....

Suggestive dressing down.....

When did I become a dancer - an unwilling partner?

This inexplicable feeling slowly snaking around my limbs as I fervently run through the the verdant spring outburst that was born in my palms. The unrestrained living. The animal instincts so raw, alive and pulsating....

Reverberating cores, thunderstorms tossing in mind and body.

Already exhausted without sweating it out. The beads poking through the layers of the skin dying to come out but trapped.

Semi-wet emotions tangently resting on the curb of insanity. That much close to losing it yet hidden far in the wraps of reality.

Is he real? or a five second release....

Will sleep on that tonight......

Meagre Pondering. . .

will I be excommunicated for it???