Sleeping love

You’ve fallen perfect

composed in my sight

like a monumental piece of grain

a beautiful sage.


In my wicked greed, I want you to stay asleep.

From every direction I see,

every way I turn you,

you’re something I wanted, something I begged for

some day, some time,

down the line.



I can dazzle all the world’s love your way, but you won’t stay.

You’ll awake.


I know,

I know, that the thing that binds my sight

to you is your glorious flight.

Your wake.

You looking right through me

at something far,

somewhere I don’t belong.


I know.

I fear.

I feel.

It’s the only way.

So, my beauty, without me,

go sail away.


Image – The Sleeping Man of Oguri Kohei by Nemuru Otoko, 1996



A play,

a wrestle,

a battle of pink pillows;

little explosions of

hot melting cold

and cold melting hot;

hands caught just about-

and hearts left dazzled

where they dropped

on the ground;

wet, rough- wet, wet, rough.

in dream we’re bound to end up,

lo-ve is too easy to pronounce.


Image : Un Beso by Cabello/Carceller

Image : Un Beso by Cabello/Carceller



I don’t want to throw it in your face

so, I’d rather drink it myself

and let the red-hot go

hunting through my veins,

taking over.

I’d even lay down,

all prepared

for the grand finale;

but, you keep on scrolling…

Feeling pretty puerile,

I limp back glimpses –



fleetingly on the side,

but, you keep scrolling.

Are you just as bored as I am, with this game?

But, I have a needle in my heart

and all the salt in the great big world, or my tear glands

couldn’t draw it out-

so, I’ll just wait until we’re in bed

and everything is heavy and damp with my cloud of rain,

and you have to ask.



Picture – Nimbus installation by Berndnaut Smilde


Enough sweet nothings

Enough sweet nothings,

it’s lame.

Enough falling deep,

no one does it anymore.

No more fighting, it’s untame.

No more going strange places

or feeling new things

like complicates mixes-

emotions that are oxymorons.

It’s old,

no one is here.

Move on.  


Picture - Mikhael Subotzky

Picture – Mikhael Subotzky


Hush word


I’m sorry,

you’re so tainted

with sex and lame teenage girls-

old fashioned.

Can we make it friendship?

It’s the worn grace of a seaside wall,

fluid, sexless and

just plain, damn gold;

like a Sunday morning with loud birds in the sky,

or a thing we can do together

while wearing linen shorts, rubber slippers and no watch;

easy to die.

Picture by Rick Short

Picture by Rick Short



It’s too much love,

while you sit calm like a night in an old city

with loyal walls and a magnificent history-

male, sweet, patient and set.

It’s too much to vest.

It’s too much to rest,

on a yard long universe

hanging by a thread,

a beating heart

and a million other almost deaths.

But, darling it’s too late

to try and forget

just how bright your stars are.


Picture - Satoki Nagata

Picture – Satoki Nagata


Two things

Marriage is a social connection; love is a spiritual connection; both worth honouring.

Picture by Duane Michaels

Picture by Duane Michaels