.

So it turns out the world of tumblr is easier to follow and post like a maniac....

From now on I'll be spilling lyrics, poetry and the things that inspire me at:

www.sensualsatisfaction.tumblr.com

Much love.

Stir-Crazy.

Take me to Berlin,

Let me taste the air.

Watch me sink in,

To the sand of the city.

Feed on the passing pretty.

The exotic

The unknown.

So far away from home.

Self-Induced.

I have this theory that you left her,

Because you thought you were comparably inferior.

You thought she deserved more than what you could give,

And that you were unworthy of what she selflessly offered.

I blame those vicious self-destructive threads,

That tugged at your impressionable guilt-prone mind.

Encouraging bouts of self-induced torture,

For the sake of saving that fragile honey-haired soul.

(photograph by Eliot Lee Hazel)

Acid Tongue.

Sometimes I write from places,

That light has not seen.

For you, I cover my traces,

To hide where I have been.

I often lock you out,

When I see your acid tongue.

Because I know all too well,

How this could come undone.

(photograph by Columbine Goldsmith)

It's happening again...

The chemistry that conjured and clutched my mind.

The movements that moved me and penetrated time.

The fantasy that we nurtured was an ethereal blaze.

The cravings that infect and buckle this body in waves.

(photograph by Paul Barbera)

I Dove.

I dove right in,

And I swam to you.

But if I see you sinking,

Will I know what to do?

(photograph by Toby Burrows)

Seasoned With Salt.

It was by the water.

That everything became clear.

Where the salt in the humid air,

Seasoned your naked skin.

Amongst my awe of late-spring,

Your fluid movements dazed my eyes.

And alongside that rising tide,

I thanked you for leading me here.

(photograph by Nico Krijno)

Sevenths.

I like the violin haunting,

So that the cello can come to calm.

But when the bass is low and pounding,

The keys come to alarm.

Sevenths in my head,

The dissonance of your past.

All the things I cannot change,

Silent fears that will linger and last.

(photograph by Ellen Rogers)

Intensity Strikes.

When the highs are fickle-fated,

The lows become devastating.

Where intensity strikes,

In all the wrong places.

We were huddled on your floor,

Gushing our lack of worth.

Who deserved who less,

And who could reassure the best.

Was this our price to pay?

For our bouts of great bliss.

Could we persevere?

All overwhelmed like this.

(photograph by Ryan Paonessa)

Crystal Vision and Painful Precisions.

I have succumb to crystal vision.

My lessons have been learnt to painful precisions.

Perhaps I am finally ready,

For what you’ve got to give, despite how heavy.

It seems I’ve lost my reasons to run,

Utterly unable to shy away from what we've begun.

Crows.

He will look,

Into my eyes.

And see what I hope,

Will make me wise.

He will know,

That I have suffered.

For the strength to be

His lover.

He will find patience,

For my woes.

When I reminisce the way,

They feasted like crows.

Call, Pull, Penetrate and Embrace.

The city is calling,

Penetrating my sleep.

In an attempt to beckon,

And persuade me to leave.

I know I'm not lost,

Although home is unknown.

I'm just patient for the pull,

Where it embraces me as its own.

Timeless Creatures.

I want to take a photo of you two right now.

I'm trying to save the image in my mind as words cascade from your hypnotising lips.

You're speaking of the significance of bizarre reoccurring dreams you've had.

I'm saving it in black and white and letting the contrast highlight your jagged jaws.

The two men in my life right now responsible for my inspiration and content in chilled, simple, small-numbered company.

The lover and the friend.

Cigarettes become extensions of yourselves as the smoke acts as your release.

Like chimneys exhaling waste, you exhale your turmoil and hope the tangible smoke is a convincing visual that will make you believe you're at ease.

It's raining behind us, it's the background to our secluded conversations.

The afternoon is over and dusk is depriving me of enough light to admire your naturally alluring faces.

I love you both.

With no way of showing my appreciation for your presence to an extent that truly justifies.

What brought us here?

But a succession of successful movements in our individual lives.

Surely we should recognise these and know we're not complete failures.

You're talking of books from the bible now.

Both anti-religious but wise enough to know literary truths when you read them.

In fact, I heard you just say

"Not that anyone reads the bible now, but anyone would know that."

Wet your lips with alcohol again,

I like the taste when you lean to kiss me.

Not minding that you're interrupting the conversation between the two of you.

This corner is darker than when I started writing.

Where will this night lead?

Our friend will leave and lock himself in his room with an abundance of books,

And we'll make love to a point of exhaustion.

Or so I hope.

Yes, I'm saving you in black and white,

Like timeless creatures.

Gig in the Sky.

This is a fragment of a song I wrote...

It's in regards to a musically talented family friend,

Who, in great sadness, left us a few months ago...

I heard you were playing,

A gig in the sky.

With all those greats,

Who left us behind.

I heard you were playing,

In some unknown theatre.

Where the crowd loves you,

And the sound couldn’t be better.

I heard you were playing,

For the joy and the praise.

But it wasn’t enough,

To bring ease to your days.

I heard you were playing,

I hear it all the time.

Your guitar still whales,

‘Comfortably Numb’ in my mind.

With me it shall stay.

I'm talking to myself,

'Cause I don't want to talk with you.

If you knew what bothered me,

You would run right on through.

I'm talking to myself,

'Cause it's safer this way.

This battle is my own,

So with me it shall stay.

Sedate.

My strength to endure,

The ghost that haunts.

Is an ebb and flow,

Of unpredictable shores.

The flow of calm seas,

Seems too pleasant to last.

So I hold onto my breath,

Until the tide changes path.

I crash upon your feet.

Knowing all too well,

That what you speak is truth.

Though I'm stuck in this swell.

Or perhaps it is greed,

That evokes this sorry state.

I just like all too much,

The ways you ease and sedate.

Jagged.

She's still here.

In tiny fragments.

That penetrate your thoughts,

In jagged formations.

She's still here,

Without any idea.

Of how her sharp edges,

Slice this sickened soul.

She's still here,

And I'm growing to like her.

I envy such innocence,

In unknowing eyes.

Unattained Answers.

Feelings seem fickle,

When she’s around.

With unattained answers,

Beckoning to be found.

My wall builds back up,

Unintentionally keeping you out.

I’m trying to hide from her,

It’s not you that brings doubt.

Unsatisfied fatuations,

Race my heart as they tease.

But I know they’re not real,

When pursued they didn’t please.

I want to let you in,

Make all I am, your home.

Know that she doesn’t compare,

It's you I crave to be my own.

Paper Thin.

Your shivering skin,

Is paper-thin.

With that burdensome guard,

All strewn in shards.

But if I said you look better,

Bathed in my pleasure.

Would you believe when I swear,

That my teeth will not tear.

(image from Amélie)

Until now.

I was too busy,

Trying to find patience.

To realise the things,

That can not wait.

You said.

"Chance encounters are what keep us going."

- 'Kafka On The Shore' by Haruki Murakami.

You said,

"Let's make slow love until midday..."

With this persuasive grin on your precious face.

I didn't want you to see just how much,

Your echoing words were making me melt.

So I shot back a grin laced in an embarrassed laugh.

And let a flood of unfinished sentences circle in my mind.

Your eyes were alive and seeking a sign in mine.

Then right when I tried to articulate a reply,

You had your sweet way...

(drawing by John Ryan Solis)

Enough.

I can't get enough.

So I clench to the breath,

That penetrated my skin.

But it's not enough.

No memory can compare.

To when your body and your mind,

Intensely wrap themselves in mine.

I'll never get enough.

And it suits me to the bone.

I like that I long,

Because I know you'll be back soon.

(photograph by Damon Loble)

Entwined in Vines.

I find myself entwined.

By paralysing guilt.

But you can wrap me in these vines,

Before I'll lie to myself.

Control.

My dear,

You were a stepping stone.

Now your memories,

Are one long drone.

Resonant swells,

In the back of my mind.

And I hope they will all,

Fade in time.

But I don't control it.

I'm a sucker for the signs,

In the way the sun sets.

I was never superstitious,

But I don't want regrets.

So here I am,

Trying to justify.

Why I would go,

And leave you behind.

But I don't control it.

Second glance.

If you fuel my thoughts,

I will shine bright for you.

If you wear me thin,

I will run right on through.

If I hand you a chance,

Will you know how to use it?

If you take a second glance,

Then I'll know you'll just abuse it.