Empires Fall

Empires fall, by the blood of friends.
Monarchs die, by the blood of friends.
Systems collapse, by the blood of friends.
Revolutions are pain.

A bullet in the back of the head for a select few, followed by starvation and desperation for millions more.

Oppression will inevitably return. The strong will rise. Self appointed kings by another name.

Hiding atrocity behind their new morals.

Hiding greed behind their new distribution methods.

Different faces.
Different words.
Same results.

Public privation.
Private ostentation.

They will tell us that the revolutionary heroes are to be honoured, but not replicated. That the time for violent action has passed. That we need to solidify our gains.

They will tell us that we are in it together. That in order to rebuild, we will all have to work. That our blood, sweat and tears are to be the mortar of the future. That our bodies are to be the stones.

They will glorify our sacrifices. A mass indoctrination of self-flagellation for the state.

Our pain will be our pleasure.
Our bond to the revolutionaries of the past.
Our holy pilgrimage.
Our right.
Our duty.
Our purpose.

We will police ourselves. Pulling down any and all who even so much as attempt to rise above the norm.

Equality of outcome for all.

Yet we will simultaneously accept our new leaders’ lavishness.

For they are men of action.

They are keeping us safe.
They are the bull front of the revolution.
They are the shield of security.
They are the sword of justice.
They protect us from the other.
They convert the heathens.
They spread the revolution.

They show us how our sacrifices at home will lead to our success globally.

They tell us that empires will fall, that monarchs will die, and that systems will collapse.

We just need to make more bullets for the backs of the heads, and more sons to put them there.

We just need to work more.
We just need to eat less.
We just need to sacrifice.

Revolutions are pain, and empires will fall.

---

This poem is from the book, ‘Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly’.

Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.

Dissociated Rage

I wake,
Writhing against invisible bonds.
Whispered screams
Echo down the empty caverns of my mind.
The more I understand,
The more I wish for ignorance.
Pain and pleasure hurt the same,
Numbed inebriation my only relief.
Dissociated rage gives way to disjointed understandings.
Terrifying realisation gives way to impotent connections.
It hurts.
Everything hurts.

---

This poem is from the book, ‘Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly’.

Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.

death

death
is not true
but it seems like
it is

do not mourn
my passing
life isn’t complete
until it ends

---

This poem is from the book, ‘Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly’.

Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.

Creating A Monster

Take away a man’s hope
and lace him up with dope.

Abuse him as a child
and expose him to the wild.

Show him that God does not exist
and remove all reasons to persist.

Put him under significant pressure
and reveal the joys of cardinal pleasure.

Add to that some mental illness
as fractured minds increase in willingness.

Explain that societal rules are collective fiction
that everyone follows with utmost conviction.

Tell him to observe and play the game
to patiently wait until it’s time to take aim.

Indoctrinate him into an extreme ideology
Explain all injustice through the lens of this philosophy.

Teach him that bad people only get punished in stories
and that in reality they die old, basking in glories.

Finally, give him the ability to read and learn.
Now there’s nothing left to do, but watch the world burn.

---

This poem is from the book, ‘Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly’.

Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.

Click

Hold still. No you need to smile more.
Click.

How can a picture be perfect,
If people are perfectly posed?

How can it be a representation of reality,
When you stopped reality to create it?

How does crafting an ideal,
Justify the destruction of the moment?

And when you look back over the album
Do you think it will all be worth it?

Not like that, move over. Pause.
Click.

It didn’t just happen,
Every aspect of it contrived.

A list of people to invite,
A list of rituals to perform,
A list of words to say,
A list of food to eat,
A list of tears to shed,
A list of clothes to don,
A list of those to thank,
A list of songs to dance,
A list of jokes to play.

A list of pictures to pose,
To prove that the boxes were ticked.

A list of pictures to post,
To show that it was all done.

A list of pictures to paste,
To evoke the right emotion.

Shuffle over. Too much. Back a bit.
Click.

You got the perfect picture,
I hope it warms your heart.

You got the perfect picture,
I hope it is enough.

You got the perfect picture,
I hope you’ll get another.

You got the perfect picture,
and that’s all you’ve got.

Let’s do that again. Smile more this time.
Click.

The one you’ll show your friends,
To gloat about that perfect night.

The one you’ll show your family,
As a way to win the fight.

The one you show your kids,
To warm their darkest night.

The one you’ll show yourself,
When you want to remember it right.

Click.

---

This poem is from the book, ‘Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly’.

Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.

How Can I Not Pursue?

There are quite a few of you
Who want to be my boo

What would you do if I let you
Onto my crew?

What would ensue between me and you
Alone or in full view?

Would we screw?
Would we explore taboo?
Would we break through and define pleasure anew? 

I don’t want misconstrue
Or take your words in lieu
So please speak true

Because when you entice with such a preview
Promises to treat me as fondue
To play the game of corkscrew
To earn every slew
And show me your divine avenue

How can I not pursue?

---

This poem is from the book, ‘Kink, Volume 2’

Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.

Can't Quite Express

There are things that I want to say,
But just can't quite express.
Ruminations and meditations
That I'm too afraid to address.
Like the veil over my eyes
That keeps me hidden from the stress.
To the dark wishes
That I'm fighting to suppress.
Like the fear and anxiety
That I will constantly transgress.
To the past expressions
That I am never going to confess.
Like how everything I do
Gives me nothing but duress.
To the unwavering ache and torment
That’s causing me to regress.

I must profess, I desire to express my stress
Confess to address this abscess, to obsess on
Happiness, to aim for excess and to stop
Living like a fucked-up mess.

Yes, I want to make progress but there are just
Some things that I can't quite express.

---

This poem is from the book, ‘Can’t Quite Express’.

Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, or Audiobook

It Felt Like Heaven To Flirt With Hell

It felt like heaven
To flirt with hell
To saunter past
Where shadows dwell

The devil’s touch
Like an angel’s caress
Forcefully moved
My body blessed

Elated by falling
The embodiment of sin
My new bed awaited
A revelation within

A prayer escaped
I screamed his name
His attention on me
The moment I came

Divine intervention
Both body and mind
Stuck in that moment
Soul forever entwined

Trapped eternally
In a pleasure spell
The heaven I desired
Is now my hell

---

This poem is from the book, ‘Kink, Volume 2’

Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.

Unspoken Desires

Unspoken desires for more
Dreamed onto canvas
My hand creating an image
Of what my body longs to explore

A mirror into my deviance
Put on display
For everyone
To ignore

Will you be the one
That will help me
Paint with flesh
Things I was taught to abhor?

The moment
Will be our medium
Our actions expressed
Is all I’m asking for

---

This poem is from the book, ‘Kink, Volume 2’

Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.

Caged Animal

Isolation.
Pacing.
Caged.

No hunt.
No kill.
No thrill.

Domesticated.
Trained.
Punished.

I want to run.
I want to fight.
I want to fuck.

Your protection wasn’t asked for.
Your protection isn’t needed.
Your protection is a slow death.

I am safe.
Trapped behind bars.
Never missing a meal.

Stuck in a comfortable rut.
Stuck in your routine.
Stuck and on display.

Nature sanitised.
Whitewashed reality.
A parody.

Just one slip.
Just one mistake.
And you’re mine.

Devoured.
Devoured screaming.
Devoured alive.

Your fault.
You caged me.
You attempted to tame me.

You put me here.
You put me on display.
You dropped your guard.

Lulled.
Hypnotised.
Dazed.

Cornered.
Primal.
Rage.

This is evolution.
This is inevitability.
This is life.

---

This poem is from the book, ‘Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly’.

Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.

but a feather

i am but a feather
drifting between worlds
forced to float
on the whims of the wind

perhaps
one day
i’ll be allowed
to rest

---

This poem is from the book, ‘Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly’.

Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.

Songbird

Do I miss you
Or what you used to do?
Under the sheets,
Together we flew.

You were always so willing
For my desires to be fulfilling.
Without even asking,
Your every movement thrilling.

But now when I think back
All I feel is a lack.
I miss the opportunity to explore,
While resenting the sexual flashback.

Soon, I will find someone new
And replace the thoughts of you.
We will explore and play
We will love and screw.

But as good as that will be
Our connection will land differently.
She won’t be you,
Despite thoroughly satisfying me.

Please don’t get me wrong
When she goes I’ll miss her song.
Your tune and hers will entwine,
And I will not be strong.

No, flashbacks will still come,
You and her in a nightly scrum.
Memories of us fucking on replay
Leaving me numb.

Will I miss her,
Or how she used to purr?
Our nights outside together
Playing exhibitionist and voyeur.

But of course, there will be a third
To play with me and a safe word.
That tune needs another instrument,
Perhaps I’ll nickname her songbird.

You three together in my mind
Imagining our loving combined.
I’ll have us doing things we never dared.
Our sessions will no longer be confined.

Reality will become inspiration,
A fantastic memory dilation.
None of you alone could ever match
My new internal fixation.

In my mind you will forever be staying,
Forever teasing and forever slaying.
Forever I will have you nearby,
And forever your song will be playing.

---

This poem is from the book, ‘Kink, Volume 2’

Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.

Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly

If I was to die, would you cry?
Would you look up at the sky and scream why?
Would you lament being shy for not asking after I?

Please do not deny.

Just know that I am forgetting my why.
You don’t need to be a spy to see that I don’t have the energy to try.
Truth is, I’ve barely enough to sigh.
No longer spry, no longer able to apply, no longer able to fly.
How can I amplify? How can I stay wry? How can I make that pie?
I’m just a lonely guy, trying to imply the need for you to reply.

Perhaps I need to demystify before I say goodbye.
Perhaps I need to clarify before I horrify.
Perhaps I need to verify before I falsify with this note left to justify the lullaby.

Don’t worry. These words are a lie, just a sly attempt to identify.
Just an attempt to pre-emptively reclassify when you turn a blind eye.
Just an attempt to declassify and diversify the constant misapply.
Just an attempt to edify you on the thoughts that multiply, the need to certify, the ennui.

I see how others get by. They gratify and deify; they codify and fortify. Believing that the Mystify will specify how they should diversify.

But not me.

I can’t believe that rallying cry.
Life has no retry.
Just a constant attempt to scrape by under a dark sky.
Just a vain attempt to signify.
Just cause and effect bound to the wings of a butterfly. 

---

This poem is from the book, ‘Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly’.

Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.

Birdsong

waking up
to bitter coffee
and a birdsong

breath visible
in the crisp morning air
attention turns inward
finding nothing

---

This poem is from the book, ‘Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly’.

Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.

love notes written in flesh

bite marks
are love notes
written in flesh

physical poetry
carved onto skin
just waiting to be read

the body
made into a canvas
of aesthetic pleasures

a homage
to the ecstasy
of submission

---

This poem is from the book, ‘Kink, Volume 2’

Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.

Behind A Smile Lies Darkness

Looks can be deceiving,
Behind a smile lies darkness,
An illness invisible.

Laughing through sorrow,
Acting through pain,
Lying to survive.

Learning to pretend,
Saying the right words,
Diverting attention.

I’m fine.
I’m just tired.
It’s nothing.
Don’t worry.
I’ve got this.
It’ll pass.

Self imposed exile,
Hiding from the world,
Hiding from myself.

Time to think,
Time to regret.
Time to practice my smile.

---

This poem is from the book, ‘Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly’.

Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.

Stoner

He’s a stoner
Just a loner
With a boner
An emotional blur
When he thinks of her

He thinks of a slur
And begins to infer
Drinks some liquor
And speaks to a monsieur
An owner
In order to procure
A girl to conquer

He sees her
All demure
His loins stir
But he’s an amateur
And she’s mature
An enticing whisperer
A bodily entrepreneur
She winks and purrs

He wants what will occur
But is terrified of the transfer
His thoughts whirr
And he becomes his own saboteur
His manhood fails to stir

Just a limp stoner
Thinking once more
Of her

---

This poem is from the book, ‘Kink, Volume 2’

Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.

Wrist Locks From Guard

I used to have friends,
Then I broke their wrists.
Playing this game from bottom,
Of pain I did insist.

First I hunted their legs,
Then focused on their hands,
After me they can no longer push,
No longer grab, or walk or stand.

Some say it’s dirty,
But I tend to disagree,
Grab whatever sub you can,
Like it’s on sale, bargain bin free!

Yes people will not enjoy it,
They may yell, cry and complain,
Saying you are being cheap,
Taking the name of Jiu Jitsu in vain.

But they just got subbed,
A victory I just earned,
So hide your hands baby
It’s a lesson you just learned.

So come to the dark side,
The techniques aren’t that dodgy,
Just ask yourself,
Why are you ignoring 4% of the body?

---

This poem is inspired by the book, ‘How To Write Evocative Poetry’.

You can read some chapters from the book, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.

Lips Like Velvet

Erotica, R-18+

Your shape
Is
Hypnotising

Perfect symmetry
Complimented by
Perfect imperfection

An hourglass
That stops time
To all who can see

A device
Of pure
Synchronicity

Its dimensions forged
By the hands
Of a master craftsman

Eyes like oceans
Lips like velvet
Hair like a waterfall

Skin as soft
As a flower
Just bloomed

---

This poem is from the book, ‘Kink, Volume 2’

Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.

Memories Compress

Memories compress,
In the recess of the mind.
Thoughts confined,
By the passing of time.

A shine dedicated
To a past divine.
The horrors expressed
So totally mine.

Waiting untouched,
A defensive confine.
Dissociated reality,
A false sublime.

Seen from above,
I’m left in a bind.
A fist is raised,
Told to stay in line.

Flashes of vision,
Pain a bright shine.
A hollow city,
Dysfunctional and blind.

Memory as a curse,
A picture of crime.
Cause and effect,
We’re both doing time.

It’s all guess work,
Just a twisted game,
Played against the self,
On the battleground of shame.

I don’t know much,
My brain is maimed.
Functional enough
To get itself tamed.

Forever questioning,
Looking to blame.
No way to win,
Just playing the game.

Victory is simple,
Just stave off dying.
Survive the day,
Then breakdown crying.

Because memories compress,
Forgotten with time.
Until you’re stupid enough,
To open your mind.

---

This poem is from the book, ‘Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly’.

Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.