from the blue,
grey tears fall down;
down, on to straightforward skin
sweetest agony must be endured;
endured, for uncomplicated love
Cliff Stories
The cliffs tell stories to the sea from the waterfalls, which cascade down in stages.
The sea finds the cliff’s stories amusing and interesting, for the cliffs are always so melodramatic and ironic.
Sometimes, though, a story touches the sea; She becomes wild and weird.
Distant Heart
distant heart
beating slow
moving further
growing colder
frozen still
Integrity
within you
they see
your integrity
steadfastly poised,
unwaveringly composed
Cuisine
devious thoughts
plotting a way
to obtain love
through cuisine
Memento
He watches her fall into the water; A bullet through her heart, and then nothing. No life resides inside her flesh now, only cold blues and greys.
He grabs her and pulls her close until her spirit leaves. Then, without any words spoken, he pockets her brooch as a memento of their love and leaves her alone.
The Skald
She walks through the forest with purpose, for today she must compose a poem for a king.
She stands in the forest listening and observing, so creativity flows through her.
As a Skald, she must practice her craft well; Thor and Odin will be displeased if she does not.
Coincidence
It’s a coincidence
that you’re leaving
and so am I
Fearless Hearts
fearless hearts
wounded and wry
forgotten pains
waving sadness away
Spatula Pad
Not one to shy away from the strange and the obscene, he thinks of some party tricks for tonight.
Ladies are many and boggle his mind, for he sees himself as an urban Casanova.
Unable to settle for one love, he prefers to love in threes or fours.
The time arrives, the guests are bouncing, and the party is swinging and shaking all about the mansion.
Beauty abounds and lovely young sights as he thinks of nibbling on chocolates or rose water delights.
Tricks do begin, but it’s the usual tosh, yet he’s thinking about what he can do.
With weird ideas swirling and too much bourbon soaking, he goes to the kitchen & thinks, “What do I have and what do I need to get my perversions on track?“
Looking and looking, he opens the cupboards and draws with swirling thoughts plaguing his mind. Searching the kitchen and not drawing attention, he grabs three sturdy blue spatulas.
Like Houdini on crack or DMT, he makes frosting enough for three cakes.
It’s causing some giggles and a few weird looks, but he’s too fucked in the head to agree.
The frosting is ready, and it tastes like a sweet dream, so he lines the bowls up on the bench.
He waits for the prudes and the boring to leave until ten of the lovelies remain.
Once properly pinched and appropriately plucked to shine bright, he smears frosting all over the nymphs. Once frosted, he moves in and starts to carnally satisfy his longing for sweets.
There’s frosting about and in places unseen, yet he beats his best record of four.
With ten lovely ladies all over him now, he’s a man in a heaven of sorts.
C & K 