Thursday, July 26, 2012

I warm myself in the sun

I dance with the muse and a sharpened blade

Scared with razor blades 

Dipped in rusted chrome

I carve sacred butterflies

Through acid stained skin


Following imaginary pattens

Like words penned in sans script 

A filigree of morbid creations

Tinged in sallow regret 


Vicarious rivers of blood tint my dreams

Tracing the visions with sharpened nails

And a tongue glistening red

Laps at the refuge pilled on the cinder path

Time in glinting eyes capture death


I continue cutting butterflies

Dipping toes in a smell sulphuric

Hearing the laugh of my demons

Listening through my eyes


Exhaled in a jaded sin

Harlequin’d jezebels dance on shadows

Born of desires unborn

Bow in a sorrowful morn


Pluck a name from chaliced thought

Carve it deep into the skin

Blunted blades course no more

Hacking nails suffice in time


Drawn to the end of dance

All held within is now without

Sculpted of sinew and fettled bone

A butterfly warms itself in the sun

Tuesday, July 24, 2012

Burned in time

In disbelief I watch the muse spin and turn

Burned on a stained canvas


Lipstick married blood red

Oozes in bubbling liquid from suffering veins

Point my tongue sensuously savouring the taste 

Droplets form in crescent moons tingling senses 

Like blackened landscapes withdrawing from the dawn


Beckon the Gyspy King dancing on the left over wind

Colouring the sky left bare from forevers rain


Opening eyes see less than before

Closed in the presence of ethereal tragedies

Mislead in oblique turbulence at the comedy that exists

Drawn into the undersound smeared in lipstick



Kissing a shadow left imprints in time

Less warm in doubts casting jingles of skin

Peeled formally as coats of texture 

Wrapped in butter tasted exotic extracts

Dip fingers tracing fragmented bones on the outside

All the while I bleed blood red from the inside


Whats in a sound as it rattles on a tin roof

Whats in a name best forgotten

Whats in a breathe expelled for a lasting time

Whats in a promise never believed

Whats in this that I believe

Tell me

Friday, July 20, 2012

Caressed in Silhouette

 A colab with the wondrous Poppy Silver


Dreams sleep under your skin

Frozen with pictures of the past

As words are better left unsaid

And a whisper closes a door


Beyond the varnish

Subtle gestures implore a touch

Over ice and starlight

Welcoming a kiss from a stranger


So we can bring tears to the horizon

Hold another in the darkness 

Turn the memories into dust

In your eyes loves pleasure still remains


Seeing places we have never been

Resonating with songs never sung

Holding onto the moisture of a teardrop’s innocence

Reflecting as we swim


One touch

Will hold



Caressed on a cloud

Of lips we seek


Captured in a hand

Left to weep


In moonlight

We float

Upon a call


Another whisper 

Closes the door


© 2012 Poppy Silver & Adrian AIDZ Giannini 

I will see you smile

The muse leaves me breathless as I turn the light on

Sitting in the shadow of purple light

Drink time as it drips from the walls

Sharp breezes abscond from beneath the door

Silence weeps from the candle bringing the night in closer

This is not the time to die without seeing you smile


A dance under the burning sky 

Will not bring about tomorrow

Where a sin sleeps without a silent gift

Colours blend into mindless obscenities 

Given time to die I will see you smile


Listen in the mist to the you that was meant to be

Soft as a dove I hear the lament of a soul shot in the dark

Hold as the floor falls up spinning the vortex

Close these feelings as satisfaction takes a bite of another apple

In time to die will you smile


The devil sips tea and drives nails into the skin

Lying somewhere else drawing laughter in the rain

Seeming so far away in another time and place

Drift sleep into a mirror like rain on the hour

If I never get to die I will see you smile once again


If this was the last refrain

Id count the lost sin 

Let it drift

Never see me

In a remembrance 

Blind shouts leave my eye

Lasting a spark 

In another day

I will see you smile

Before I die

Tuesday, July 10, 2012

softly softly

I drink the muse a cup of skin

Softly sketched in charcoal and life

A single strand demurely stands

All that holds a passionate will

Drawn in likeness upon the wind





Beckon to a call

Resonate wistful heart strings

A single silken feather falls

Upon the shadow of us all


Singularity in plurals

Breeds upon the breeze

Softly now come to me

Let one kiss upon these lips


If I could take a rose

A carve upon your name

It would be tomorrows tonight

Open up my tattoo’d wrist

And bleed upon the sand


Look upon these eyes

Read the tome of words born gold

In silence gifted upon a soul

I utter not a word





Hold a heart thats dear

Cast in silver and chiastolite

Believe it to never go

And bleed for me a silent word


In silence we treasure





Serenity captured in dreams





A gift lifted upon a thought


Softly softly


And a thought touched upon a silvered tongue

Sunday, July 1, 2012


Blackened in harmony the muse bows her head

No intents to cold when I bring you in from the rain

Shoulder past burdens on the head of a screw

Capture a lifetime in the glint of your eye

Travel backwards into the gleaming 

Watch the sun set on a lifetime of miscarried beginnings

Spend my time drying angles sorrows on the corner of a handkerchief

Embossed with an initial of the one who shall not be forgotten

Give me a reason to try as you turn the page on something new


Its all good reasons I bring you here

To this place

Left alone in my mind

By my side

To believe the impossible


I brush a cheek

WIth the backside of my fingers

As a change in the season

Whispers a breeze on your heart

Its only a choice 

In the make believe


I close my eyes

Colours flicker the names

Scribed in sans script

Upon the ache in my bones


Subtle doubts ingratiate my redemption

Lifted on every fourth and fifth flame

Screams raise to the heavens in droplets of crystal clear

Its time for the shadows to fall in the twilight of theatre

Scattered like a playground in the hands of a lazy springtime

Twelve long stemmed roses petaled in black adorn the rusty gate

Purposefully stride in other directions to the glistening hue

And I look to see that my love is still here