I’m collecting the souls of the people I knew
the ones who mattered to me, although there are few
in small glass bottles and kept on a shelf
they refract the light from the window
in rainbow prisms of scattered luminosity
yours is pink and it dances the light
in patterns on the wall

I write songs to the souls, especially yours
in the vain hope of prayers answered
I wonder if they listen as I sing, in broken tones
those melodies I’ve written for only their perception
crawling sounds of truth in music
songs of sorrow and of love believed
drifting to entropy in the air

I mumble pleas to the souls on their shelf
supplications and appeals
for unlistening remnants of divinity
in those reliquary bottles of the past
staring vacant at the blush from yours
with eyes of hazel solitude
unrivaled in their empty sorrow


The one voice I need is not here
no empathy or caring on this day or others
broken echoes of lost love and compassion

I suffer alone in remembrance
without friend nor love
painted sorrow unseen

this is the way of the world
uncaring universe in brutal physics
and uncaring human in shallow heart

I scream unheard into the sorrow sky
no hand to hold or comfort to receive
adrift and alone in unwanted dispassion

So I drink and I smoke and I howl
if you listen hard enough
you might hear your name

and Auden said, in some benevolent moment
let the more loving one be me
and I was, I think, I know, I infer

but I believed in that equal affection
that world of possible future past
deceived by your redeeming words

the belief has been my dissolution
an ending without the final blow
oblivion slide

In memoriam

My mind sinks, on this anniversary day
the one on which the grief overwhelms
joined now by that new pain
and the sages say that life is suffering

Sunday is gloomy
my hours are slumberless
Dearest, the shadows
I live with are numberless

tears in torrents rush with abandon
from eyes so stricken in sorrow’s embrace
and memories of the day the happiness fled
in the inferno that I wished has taken me

little white flowers
will never awaken you
not where the black coach of
sorrow has taken you

there is nobody to hold my hand, dear daughter
on this day or other, to assuage or comfort
and especially today
when the weight of years crushes my heart

angels have no thought
of ever returning you.
would they be angry
if I thought of joining you?

Gloomy Sunday

would that I could have exchanged
on that night of flame and fury
my life for yours, and now
that only grief should end

Gloomy is Sunday
with shadows I spend it all
my heart and I
have decided to end it all

my voice breaks as I sing, soft and cracked,
to your ghost still with me
the crackle of guilt and howl of horror
at the torment of the soul

soon there’ll be candles
and prayers that are said, I know
let them not weep
let them know that I’m glad to go

there is no return from where you have gone
and the left-behind grasp at remembrance
which never fails to bring the sobbing elegy
of lost years and broken hope

Death is no dream
for in death I’m caressing you
with the last breath of my soul
I’ll be blessing you

Gloomy Sunday

Today is the anniversary of the death of my beloved daughter, just a month away from her fourth birthday at the time. Coupled with the grief and sorrow of the past year it is overwhelming. The pain does not lessen with the years. It compounds with the new sorrow in ways I do not understand. I am wracked


I sit on the floor in the shower
cascade over bone and taut skin
those are not tears
I promise
just the fall of the water on my face
why would I cry?
in admission of sorrow or loss
there are stages to grief and I am stuck
between shock and depression
sallow skin in harmony with sadness
I cannot paint you
in the colours of the world and spring
my brush will not follow my fingers
and the smears of painted remorse
are my sole expression
do you remember we wanted
to take photographs?
together with some talented artist
making mementoes of ourselves
and the adoration new shared
water washes salt from my face
deluge of dolorous disenchantment
I would weep and wail
but I promise you I am not
although that might be a lie
the water has become cold now
and still I sit
skin on the plastic comfort of the tub
I am still not weeping
those tears merely a hallucination of the mind
under the chill and on the firm
arrogance of departure


I write with shaking hands, dazed and abrupt
my pen will not follow my hands, instead looping
strange characters on the page before me

you make me feel so beautiful

My concentration is gone
swept away in trembling heart, fingers quivering
with need and response to thought

♥️ soulmate♥️

The machinery has broken down, the repairs do not go well
there are missing parts and damaged pieces
and the ones I have do not fit

I love you more than anything handsome mister. Mucho mucho 🥰

My music fills the air with somber notes
tone driven existential crisis
guttering melody of the disappeared

I love you Daddy. So much.
Tomorrow you get to cum in me 💋😈

Tattooed on my soul, carved in my being
sacred name of unrelenting need
sleep brings nightmare rest

I was sad to shower and have your smell leave me 😭

I am your lamb of sacrifice, cast on this altar
blood set to your knife
ceded to the immolation that makes you whole

I love you very very much my handsome mister ♥️

The world renounces me, with each word spoke
wrenched from terror mind
a hallucination of horror in sleep

Did you know something? I LOVE YOU! ♥

I recant and reject this reality of shame
on frozen floor I wake in the sweat of night
lips calling for absolution

Lol. I’m almost always horny when it comes to you.
I love love love you ♥

Babygirl. I love you too

Fly (song)

This is a bit of a departure in terms of musical style. It’s very much ‘singer-songwriter with a piano’. It won’t make any album cut I can think of, but I might do a recording of it myself just because I like it. The structure is very simple. It sounds very very sad when I sing it

baby can you see me
baby can you feel me
baby can you hear me calling for you

stuck inside my head now
praying for you somehow
baby listen hard and listen true

and I—–
just want to fly
from this place on your wings
and try
to put the past behind while I hear your breath sing

maybe it was the lighting
but the world seemed a lot less frightening
now I’m scared with everything I do

maybe it was the music
in my head until I used it
everything in my world was better with you

and I—–
just want to fly
from this place on your wings
and try
to put the past behind while I hear your breath sing

baby do you dream me
baby do you think of me
baby tell something so I can know

staring at the silent walls
remembering the rise and fall
of the empire that we built just so

and I—–
just want to fly
from this place on your wings
and try
to put the past behind while I hear your breath sing

I want to fly
I want to fly
I want to fly
with you


Snow is falling again and they say
we might get another two feet by the weekend
I will not miss the snow

The things I would miss are already gone
in spiteful chasms of space and time
vanished phantasms and shades

I will not miss the snow or the cold
but the remembered warmth
of loving embrace long yearned

I am not glad to go, rather I feel
nothing about it at all on this chill day
in the falling snow

A man can be, I think, as unhappy there
as he remains here, in destiny’s grasp
a pawn of that he cannot comprehend

The snow falls and my dog looks with sad eyes
at my countenance so set
stone chiseled despondency

This is the last winter here, in frozen tomb
I will carry my dead eyes to another place
and watch with apathy the end

I have my first covid vaccine booked, and to be honest I’m completely apathetic about it. And very much feeling the same way about the recording contract. I just don’t really care.


It’s that day and I got you a card
to join the others in melancholy boxes
words unread in stagnant solitude
lines written in nervous hand
teardrop letters in rows of sorrow
and love expressed in prose

My eyes are gold in this light
hazel reflections of dawn’s rise
machine thrum of the morning
an echo of heartbeat lost
just photographs on the wall
raw reminders haunting each moment

I wrote in the card and pulled it
tight to my chest
a kiss to the envelope as if
sealing the emotions inside
with longing shook hands
and deep shuddering breath

I wrote in the card and thought
of your laugh and your smile
your body and your scent held
tight against my skin
in the afterglow of passion
and remembered warmth

It’s that day and I got you a card
filled it with words
pining and yearning
moth to deadly flame I fly
gladly to doom if called
to give to you those words


It is the winter of 2021
and still the first year A.D.
those initials meaning something only to me

In this place was once worshiped
the goddess and her priest in pagan ritual
devoted to her pleasures

The priest now waits with the hands
of the supplicant spread wide waiting to heal
offering nothing but his devotions

Blessings and benedictions given
in the passion of flesh incarnate with lustful
inebriation of the spirit

Phrase whispered in three word prayer
shining in eyes of mirrored soul
beatitude of ancient lore

Mouths and hands in unison’s breath
quiet defiance for a softened moment
delicate violence of desire

It is the winter of 2021
and still the first year A.D.
those initials meaning something only to me

The priest sits unholy in sullen repose
a portrait of austere solemnity
candle lit in invocation

The priest prays still to the goddess
the offering in the window forlorn alms
for the return of the divine


You make me so happy and it breaks my heart all at the same time. I think I love you and I don’t know what to do with that

You made me believe in love at first sight

— You’re not single, I don’t think. It’s just an optical illusion

I agree. I’ve never been less single in my life

— Love you

I love you, too. I’m going to marry you one day

— Yeah? I’m not opposed to that. You know I love you more than anything on this earth?

I have a name withheld fetish. Obsession

— I have a similar obsession. I tried to get past it. Didn’t work. I need you. I wish there were better words for it. I don’t think the word love is even strong enough for this feeling. And it’s funny, it took me losing you to realize I NEED you

— There’s been a million times where I’ve grabbed my phone and went to message you. Talk to you. Say I miss. Say I love you. A million. Or more

I love you. Beautiful sweet girl. Soulmate

— Definitely soulmate.

I love you

These are actual messages between two people, chosen from thousands and thousands of lines. I would not and will not reveal any identities. The italicized lines are from her, the standard from him.