Strangers passing in the sun, A hint of something that’s begun, But love never lasts that long, Maybe it’s time for another song.

Tonight, she’s on- my mind. Tonight, she’s on- my mind. To-night, To-night, To-night-

Played another winning hand, But this old game never goes as planned, She’s wearing my favourite dress, I [...]]]> Strangers passing in the sun,
A hint of something that’s begun,
But love never lasts that long,
Maybe it’s time for another song.

Tonight, she’s on- my mind.
Tonight, she’s on- my mind.
To-night,
To-night,
To-night-

Played another winning hand,
But this old game never goes as planned,
She’s wearing my favourite dress,
I can’t help but be impressed.

Tonight, she’s on- my mind.
Tonight, she’s on- my mind.
To-night,
To-night,
To-night-

And what if we could dance so free,
Heart to heart, just you and me.
In my mind my thoughts are real,
But you may never know how I feel.

Tonight, you’re on- my mind.
Tonight, you’re on- my mind.
To-night,
To-night,
To-night-

(August 2008)

They’d call it suicide, but I’d re-inacted my death over and over again in my dreams. Grainy images of places to dark to describe, faces of people I’ve never met using names of the people I know only to well. this is not a rehearsal. This is not the time to stop. The dream [...]]]> They’d call it suicide, but I’d re-inacted my death over and over again in my dreams. Grainy images of places to dark to describe, faces of people I’ve never met using names of the people I know only to well. this is not a rehearsal. This is not the time to stop. The dream continues on, and I find myself falling through a blackened sky, clouds made of oil covering a sun long burnt out. Looking down, the landscape draws further away, a shifting perspective that seems so comprehensible, despite it’s absurdity. I’m neither falling or rising, stranded somewhere, sometime for some reason, as I glance towards an antique watch. My heart pauses, seemingly along with the passage of time that stopped dead the moment I attempted to check it. Click. Click. The hands began moving again, but rather than advancing they move counter-clockwise, distorting the surroundings along with my thoughts. Could this be the edge of time? Perhaps I’ll never know, as the inertia of gravity takes hold and calls me home again.

(July 2004)

We held hands and wished away the days, whilst the walking dead ran repeatability into harms way. The seering sun baked plains seem so deserted that day, an unmistakable exodus as you walked your miracle mile with a blank expression and vacant smile. We saw the entertainment-news, heard the surround-sound gunshots and felt the [...]]]> We held hands and wished away the days, whilst the walking dead ran repeatability into harms way. The seering sun baked plains seem so deserted that day, an unmistakable exodus as you walked your miracle mile with a blank expression and vacant smile. We saw the entertainment-news, heard the surround-sound gunshots and felt the indescribable human pain, as you stumbled into temporarily white-washed walls, synergistically pathetic, obliviously incompetent. This is where the story ends. I dreamt last night of a world where people cared, a world where this sentence is more than text on your computer screen, a world where dreams came true. I hope I never wake up again.

(August 2004)

Thursday afternoon, and thoughts followed me around with every concealed step. The sun shone down, as I hypnotically hypothesised the structure of better days. Despite the warmth, I held each breath, an act of improbable isolation, I had never felt so alone. perhaps I’ll never know why, but that moment transfixed my attention, negating [...]]]> Thursday afternoon, and thoughts followed me around with every concealed step. The sun shone down, as I hypnotically hypothesised the structure of better days. Despite the warmth, I held each breath, an act of improbable isolation, I had never felt so alone. perhaps I’ll never know why, but that moment transfixed my attention, negating comprehension, a crossword puzzle washed out in the rain as I slipped further away. I hadn’t noticed the disappearance of the sun, only the coldness wrapping around me like an empty birthday present, bought out of necessity rather than love. I stood motionless, replaying conversational conversations and Russian roulette routines. I had everything, yet indiscriminate amplifications of pain, white-washed the walls of my mind in battleship grey. I have no recollection of how many tears rained down that day, as reddened eyes tell stories never understood.

(May 2005)