o2

Breathing, got to keep breathing.
Another wave toppled atop her again, writhing her body with agony. Knocking precious air from the lungs, depriving the blood once again of all insistent oxygen. She span in the wave, a speck of insignificance in the great blanket of water. Struggling toward the surface, holding onto life.
Eyes open, making out the distant surface, the cruel depth refusing to let her ankle go. She screams, forces herself toward the sweet air.
A small bubble escapes her mouth. It floats upwards with ease and grace, and breaking the surface making no sound at all it roars.
Breathing, got to keep breathing.

Simple truths

A nod over a cry,
The truth over a lie.
A quiver of the lips over a frown,
To kiss lightly the dream away, and in it drown.
To hear your pursed smile whisper my name, for me to bask,
I see your silhouette glide across the room, and thats when you lower your mask.
Open your eyes, look at me,
In my hand, I hold yours.

In Thy Name

Rippling blue, make you mine
Forever there, it'll always make you pine
35,000ft up, give me time

The Broadest Daylight

He sat staring at his hands, it wasn't working.
It meant more to him than most things. Why he whispered, oh why.
Heart filled tears might as well have streamed his face like an ecleptic monsoon.
He cradled the deceased in his arms and mourned during the song of the dead.
Death might call upon him next, such is misery.
Might you pass me three times over, ye hollow grace.
It was simply dead in his hands.
It. Was. Over.

My Many Queens

My cold mistress, climbing my arm and whispering no harm
She embraces me, appearing with flight and icy bite
Her freezing warmth wraps around my fingers
And with seeming stealth, finds a way into my veins
Secreting a passage of haste around the body
The whole time caressing and quietly singing there will be no pain.

Such tender touch, she pushes me away with a blush
Coyly she smiles, knowing it will see her miles
I feel a feverish grin spread permanently across my face
Through blue lips she tells i’ll always be the one she’ll miss
Walking away into the cloud of bygone era smoke
She will turn and blow me a crimson kiss.

With shots fired overhead, she’s priming to explode without a crime
Bodies crumbling, her mine is laid and blood will be paid
Body showing no remorse, a bayonet is fixed and shown to me
I know it’s going to be mine, and with its tempered edge I will die
Looking across the field of agony, I see my red queen
And feeling my heartbeat slowing to a crawl, I realise my mistake and begin to cry.

101 Things - Number 22

Kiss A Gorgeous Girl Under The Eiffel Tower

Her legs were actually shaking; I wish I could say it was due to the allure of her lips close to mine, or the threat of sweet romance in the city of love. But no. It was actually due to two factors; she had chosen to wear shorts on a day that can only be described as close to Baltic cold, and we had just been to the top of the Eiffel Tower and back down again, and our main mode of transport had been feet on steps. Hence the wobbling legs.
It had been a great day so far, we had walked and playfought along the Seine, waltzed through the entrance to the Louve and been refused admission to a holy church for being inappropriate. And to top it all off I was going to complete the first of many, well 101 tasks, on my list.
Finding the girl had been easy, but getting there had been harder, it’s not easy to find the Eiffel Tower you know. 315 metres of steel can be easily mistaken for a . . . telephone pole.
But I had gotten so carried away with the lifesize models of Thomas Edison and Mr Eiffel atop of the tower in a makeshift room, that I completely forgot that we had come here for another reason as well.
“So, are we going to take a picture at the bottom of us kissing for evidence?” asked Jess.
“Hmmm?” I answered elegantly as I struggled to look away from Mr Edison; do you really think he had a moustache that large?
“A photo, at the bottom, for your list”
“Ah, the list” I tried to cover up my tracks and complete lack of recollection of the task, “Yes”
“You’d forgotten hadn’t you?”
Better to admit failure and gain respect through humility I thought, “No”
So after the trip to the bottom of the Tower, upon which my companion admitted to having “jelly legs”, we were in position. But there is a slight problem when such a great pressure is placed upon you, and the first of one hundred items on a list is about to be ticked off – you find it very funny.
After what seemed like a hundred attempts to kiss, and fail, we looked one another in the eye and we knew the time for smiles and laughter we over; we were in the realm of ambition here, in the city of love and in the cradle of the most romantic steel structures in the world.
So as I swept Jess off her feet and leaned in to kiss her like she’d never been kissed before, only one thing entered my mind, the fact the Parisians call the Eiffel tower the ‘Steel Aubergine’.
The kiss doesn’t go to plan, because I drop her when laughing too loud. This is my written apology, sorry.