The-Mood-Poisoner

The verdant field goes flashing by so quick, Just like my life before my eyes; drowning! Death sits beside me with his walking stick, Hoping for another victim; frowning! The train enters at last its safe stand, A sigh of joy escapes our fleshy lips, We descend to the platform hand-in-hand, My silent aid guiding my life's eclipse. The machine rejects my ticket, "Not Yet", An official swarms; thunder on his face, Pushing me back to that deathly set, Slamming the doors back into rightful place. Death's eyes watch me, full of soundless fury, "Soon" he mouths. "I will yet be your jury."

          The rose, so beautiful, so humanly elegant,                With its deep red lips, its curvy form,                       And its thorny embrace.                    This rhapsodic gift from nowhere                 Leaves an indelibl

What a strange day that was, Wandering into such an exhibition, Acting the clown; acting the maggot! Laughing away like friends of years, Yet only friends of months, From whence the connection? But never mind! I love you anyway, And we will echo down the corridors of eternity. How random the blessed memories! How strange! Sunsets, dates, (Did I hear you say "Quilts"?), Smokes & wine (one item, not two!). But we won't dwell on the details, Just let it be said that "From the heart of the ridiculous, the sublime".

The chainsaw yammers, Thrushes sing their mating calls, Harmony reigns here.

We get on so well, But with a fight too many, Bonds change forever.

My heart throbs for my heartthrob, Maybe just one more look? The raven's sweep of his… STOP! I've had this conversation before, This MUST stop, What the fuck am I thinking? This isn't natural. Stop. Primal scream. 'Lithium' plays appropriately in the background, I cry bitterly and scream soundlessly, My silent voice mouthing the same word Over and over "Help me". Fifteen minutes straight, I've never cried that long before, And it shouldn't hurt this much, To love is to love To love is not to hurt. But this poem is just a variation On a theme of Bagatelle in A Minor, Beethoven fell in love, Painful and forever tum

As humans struggle in the sea, A single moment in the infinity Is sometimes captured as a beam of light Flashes among rudderless ships. And God announces to his lost ships, "I gift to you my greatest treasure, Which shall light up the darkest corners of even those once thought lost, For I love ye so, that I send a part of me unto you." And the sailors, they shout with rapture, As the light, it grows and grows, Guiding all those it reaches Into the welcoming arms of the shore. For all those who are listening, Miss ye not the glow of this lighthouse beacon Shining on the shores of respite, For it is rare and precious; and soon