But when is it that my heart races most madly?

You send my heart racing 
even though I don't quite 
know your name 

You send my heart racing 
despite the fact I asked you out 
and you said no

You send my heart racing 
because you speak to me in
a rustic second language 

You send my heart racing 
because your so prim and proper 
while i'm a dishevelled mess 

You send my heart racing 
like a beam of light bouncing 
off the face of a pretty girl 

But when is it that my heart races most madly?

Whenever
I dive deep down into
your mesmerising crystal
blue eyes
Overcome with the sublime
intoxicated
feeling of love
that only 
bi-polar allows 

A Crush at the Beach

A Crush at the Beach By Moss

Everyone has their own fleeting
lighthearted crush at the beach
from rock hard abs to pretty feet
Except for romantics they always have two 

On occasion when I visit the beach
In the blistering height of summer
I like to swim on-top of the surf
Far out at sea bobbing in the cool water 

I see supple woman enticing tortured married men
on the shore with hourglass figures and jumbling auburn hair
I laugh as Husbands eyeballs come loose falling out of their heads 

like stunned mullets they grope around in the sand with deep-seated lust 

After coming in from the sea after getting cold
I shake off the remaining blue water clinging to my pale white chest

To my right I see a Scandinavian girl with a full figure
She reels me in like a stuck fish in a net
I throw a glance her way causing her to laugh with mirth
Then I clumsily scatter seashells in embarrassment
with my awkward clumsy limbs 

As I lose track in the mind-addling sun
The One I have been waiting on finally appears
like a vision of love she washes up gently
on the sweet pebbly beach up north 

In shocked as she begins to sunbath topless
Why not she's the queen of the seas
free the nipple
the unmatched glory of a watery kingdom
baking in the sun
While the ocean teems with uncensored aquatic life 

Her short brunette hair draws you
Until your almost drowning in her deep green eyes
The depth of which is over a thousand fathoms deep

Tan-lines

Why do woman try their hardest to eliminate their tan-lines

I mean have they ever asked a hot blooded man whether they like them or not?

If a woman was to ask my opinion I would say with a resounding YES

I love them like them adore them desire them

And a resounding NO

To even thinking about getting rid of them.

But why is this?

Maybe it’s because

Men in our vast majority don't have them

So those thin insignificant lines make you infinitely more feminine

Vastly accentuating your allure and primordial power over us

Not to say that

A woman without tan-lines is any less attractive

I for one would never dream of asking someone to lie down in the sun to get them

I'd worry too much about your over exposure to the sun 

And yet there is part of every man's hearts that wishes

In the recesses of his being for a woman to have bold bright tan lines

Illuminating and skimming across your skin and cutting like fine diamonds

But why?

Maybe it’s just because they are overwhelmingly sensual

Or equally as likely it’s probably just because they remind your lover of your lace bra

even

      when

             it's

                 been

                        taken

                                off

Friends till the end

Swift-footed Love Ad infinitum

I Guess You Never Really Knew

Our life together once in bloom

finished short in the throes of eternal youth

Both hearts once filled with bubbling champagne in crystal flutes 

Until love gave up broken ruined spilling across the kitchen table we fucked on 

I grabbed your hands you kissed my lips 

under milky stars flickering in and out we became one 

you opened your mouth i clutched your side

I held your face and watched dark tears streaming down

The pain the misery the heartbreak the sinister depression 

How you fell out of love slicing my soul to tangled ribbons

I thought honey if that's true I guess you never really knew

How out of control with manic flaming love like a raging fire I existed purely for you  

Too many times I sacrificed to gods devils with powers unknown to hold your favour 

Oh how my whole world came crashing down when I lost your smoky voice in my darkest hour 

For years I searched in vain for a silver lining to easy the lonely bumpy road

It's ok I hope your happy curled up in some Burgoise home with a man I could never be 

Some stand up bloke with a well paid steady job tidy room fair skin quiet eyes funny jokes

I can see him smiling at you the way I use too then falling asleep like a sleepy spoon

Just promise me this baby don't forget you loved me too 

Remember you loved me too remember that summer just me and you 

When I made love to you then you whispered In my ear I wished the world could stand still 

Don't forget how we fucked it was beautiful that windless summer night just me and you 

When I made love to you and you gripped me tight and the universe stood still 

Blurry Bittersweet Memories and Rude People

Some people are so predictable. They think they no more than everyone else and have this whole life thing figured out. They're the passive aggressive type in a good secure job with a painful personality unable to attract anyone's of quaility. They pretend to be your friends when secretly they hate you and want to be living a life far different to their own. Like lepers they lament their drudgerous lot in life while at the same time they feign love for their many painful pursuits.

At a party I recently attended, there was such a horrendous description. I had never meet them in my life and they didn't bother for a second to introduce themselves. In a mad high voice they proceeded to talk to the people I was sitting and chatting with offering meaningless chit chat and unwanted lip service. Sometimes I wonder who raises such bratish human beings so devoid of manners and politeness. Sure we all have our faults but should always make the effort to be courtesy and do right by others as much as we can. Depending on how you treat others sooner or later the circles you move in will either be more enticing or stale depending on your character traits. One when was ready should do their best to shed off as many trivial boring and insufferable aquantancies and old high school friends. One shouldn't waste to much time energy or tears filling up the dead empty containers of persons with your own limited supply of empathy and love ❤️ Family should always take precedent over friends in my opinion too.

Well since this post is already a bit of a moan I'd also like to address something that has been heavy like a thousand gold talents weighin on my mind. This problem actually caused me a great deal of discomfort and triggered off residual pain like a terrible wound. My mother recently bumped into the Father of someone I use to hold very dear to my heart, in a way I still do, but nothing like the affections I once shared for this person. Although I had no interest in knowing about this person I found out they were working in government and had a string of partners and failed love relationships since we parted. In a way this saddened me deeply, as an extremely emotional person I felt rather melancholy.  I already knew this person had moved on and didn't begrudge them as I had too though still suffering from bloody heartbreak. When I found out the news about this person it was as if a vital piece of my heart had slowly died or stopped working, unable to pump oxygenated blood around my body causing a temporary depression. After mulling this over for a couple of days I slowly recovered and rejoined the present world and stopped being dragged into my past universe inhabitated with unimaginable conflicts, malicious spirits and frenzied poltergeist.

Once I had fully recovered and obtained command over my freewheeling and vivid mind I became stoically glad to have felt the pain that was first given to me early on in life. As a young child I had always been different and suffered from low moods and dreadful pain unknown by most for whatever reason I shall never know. However through my reflections on this person who more than a deeply uncaring person was a wounded child I knew in my heart that we were simply incompatiable. I being a caring loving person who is naturally supportive and kind-hearted should avoid being with someone  who is hellbent on destroy any happiness that walks toward them on wilting and ugly knees. My self-esteem reduced to a negligent entity was an unexceptable cause of such a poorly matched union. No instead I was made for much grander things and to be loved equally if not more than as much as I could give to a happy and loving partner. I thought to myself; "In the end it must be so that selfishness begets gross unhappiness. Pain brings forth everlasting joy and past love must remain forever locked away and abandoned in the past, left to die in solitude under the trees of love sprawled out across rolling hills in blurry bittersweet memories".

Champions of Love

champions of love         buckle on your armour       and march to the front
Where the brave           Win Glory and the weak    lose their lives
With bronze spears        fierce arms and the        sweet favour of Gods
They fight for love         without hate                desiring least wars gold
drunk on wine             and beautiful woman      queens virgins and whores
Until their own           death spectre appears      faster than swift horses
Guided by Zeus          heroes falling like toys       their hearts bleeding out      
drowning rivers            leveling land                   dripping crimson on sand
Shrouded in dust         irreversible war             Arrows ripping through flesh         
morning                         night                             and noon
Champions of love         Without the Gods           by your side
You will plummet          headlong face-down         in the nourishing earth

  
       

Sleeping Man

what good is man asleep 

he struggles to create in dreams 

what he will never have

He falls through shadows 

Only to awake in shrieking nightmares 

Rekindles old love and foolish illusions

Lives as different people, a stranger to himself  

His desire unchained while traversing stars 

A snoring man struggles to renew ailing health 

One hand out-stretched to catch coins of gold

The other gripping happiness at the end 

of a piled high silver desert spoon 

Resuscitation (poem)

As life ebbs from my lungs 

would you resuscitate me in time 

to save my body and brain function

would you choose to bring me back to life

or decide to let me drop soaring through the sky

As my body lay dying    my mind    would   race 
navigating over mist covered mountains   without you
stuck fast in  winter snow  

Or perhaps I would find myself cast-adrift in unrelenting seas

buried in a deep watery grave without one single chance of being found

If that were so there would be no final farewell for us my love

In my still heart I would falter having no remote desire to survive 

without your arms shooting whistling arrows by my side 

Only you would remember the holy prophecy of love

tattooed on each others swollen hearts as if stung by bees

chiseled in the finest inks mixing our blood into crying magenta  

Quick run fast over land held tight by dangerous enemies hands  

For death may swoop upon us from motley grey coloured hills

like a hungry lion starved covered in blood splattered gore

One of us destined to die the other to carry the gift of a curse that is long life 

Whilst the weaker of the two is unceremoniously dispatched and robbed like hay cut short 
under the sweeping blow of a sharpened sickle in the clash of ringing war 

The Road to Ruin - Onboard a Night-bus travelling to Welly

Everything blurred about as i left the city, trees, windows, old wheezing

air-conditioning units became one indistinct ray of pale green as I raced away.

The sky outside the motionless night-bus I was climbing into was darker, 
than blackest obsidian rock buried deep within the folds of the earth. 
I left with no regrets speeding away from the bustling viaduct with its 
enclave of seedy bars populated by corporate drunks, either bored, aggressive or bemused.

Together all the travellers onboard the giant bus came from different corners

of the world. They were forced to mingle with overly friendly locals inquiring 

about where they came from and why they had travelled so far, to New Zealand

of all places. As the tourists grappled to find adequate answers in a second 

language we began to move forward, the hefty combustion engine bursting to life gargling

petrol. The engine together with the buses axle lashed the chrome wheels of the bus onward,
first we moved in a low canter then at once a blustering free-spirited gallop drove
flash looking vehicle across the smooth downtown streets. As the chockablock 
bus gained momentum, accelerated and stopped at red lights

we zipped past tall concrete buildings vacant and empty of overworked employees.

In less than ten minutes our urban surroundings melted and morphed outside, 

through the mirror-like windows I saw the noisy city give way to quiet rundown

Auckland suburbs populated with foolishly overpriced houses and limping 

lampposts unlit indifferent to the safety of pedestrians walking late at night. 

Half an hour in my stomach started to somersault like a supremely ungifted male gymnast.
Instantly I  regretted eating far to much Chinese takeaways at the wooden dinner table,

especially when i thought about the long road ahead to windswept long-suffering Wellington

 where my brother Gabriel lived. In some unknown flat nestled high above 

Aro valley in an old house in the wealth infested area of Kelburn, slightly to

upmarket for the encouraged likes of students. Gabe told me where he lived 
tpohutkawa trees loomed over weathered pioneer houses built on sheer cliffs 
overlooking a raging harbour and mystical forest. Pushing aside the painted pictures 
in my head of what Kelburn looked like my mind wandered. Eventually I started 
chuckling while tossing about in my awkward bus bed as I recalled something funny.
I hadn't even left home and my Mother said she was going to miss me as If I was
going to war in a mock-comical fashion.

Truth behold my mother was deeply worried about the earth rattling quakes shaking Wellington.

I knew full well about the dangers involved and look a foolhardy idiot I set out in 

search of adventure. If my heart was destined to fall to its tragic death in unfortunate 
circumstance I was rest assured my soul would always return to linger closely by the side 
of both my parents. While thinking this very thought the bus fell with a great thump into a
gaping pothole causing my thoughts to flashback to the less than satisfying good-bye 
I had called to my youngest brother Charlie in his room instead of hugging him. 
In haste I had marched out our windowed front door worried I was going to miss my ride.
without saying a proper farewell wrapping my arms around his shoulders. I was sure Charlie 
had barely heard me as I shouted down our long echoing corridor. I knew that he was 
busily waging a virtual war against Hungary on his laptop computer and secretly hoped 
I had disrupted him. I could see him now as I layer hunched in the feral position his strong 
back bent over his bright multi-coloured compterscreen, his eyes glued to the events 
unfolding in front of his square eyes as he tapped out orders followed by digital soldiers
at his beck and call. I wish I had told him in an annoying big brother way to clean up
his room, especially his day old pop-corn bowls covered in stale butter that urked
the whole family. Even thought I knew full well he wouldn't, he would've simply grunted 
in reply or worse denied me the use of his ipad

.

Fully accepting my fate I slowly slunk back deep into the hard bed aboard the night-bus driven 

on in an unrelenting fashion by a somewhat manic kind-hearted driver. The driver a gruff voiced 

fellow called David command us to call him by his name and not the dehumanising title of driver.

He kept rabbiting on about things over the crackling onboard speaker as I started to zone out 
and feel ever so queasy. Again my stomach began to rebel against me in my dis-comfort 
I had to remember why I was travelling across a vast chunk of New Zealand's upper north 
island on a rickety bus. The first reason being of a practical nature was that all the plane
 flights were booked out or too expensive. The flaming bus-ride was an utter rip-off but 
much better value than forking out hundreds of dollars for a one hour flight at short notice. 
The second and infinitely more important reason being that I wanted to celebrate New Years
eve the following night with Gabriel in Wellington. We had organised to hit up a rave near 
Courtney place and true to my word that was what we were going to do. I would also be 
able to see his flat and catch up with his friends that had often travelled up to visit us in
Auckland which was an added bonus. Full of renewed resolve I pretended to recover my
wits and settle in for the long-haul drive through the night. I decisively thought 
without pretending that anything was better than lounging around in Auckland again 
like last year going to same dreary bar with the same hipsters year in year out. 

Queasy or not, I was on the road to ruin and was not turning back for anything 
even more so that I was going to bloody well enjoy it. I read an old text Gabriel 
had sent me telling how he would meet me outside the MacDonald's when I pulled 
up in 9 hours and 45 minutes. Soon enough my younger Brother and I (being the 
oldest of all my siblings) would be revelling in our wonky New Years eve glory like 
drunken knights readying for utter life-ending slaughter. With that thought in mind
I fell asleep, for how long I can't recall, all I do know is that I was having vivid lucid 
dreams about how we would run amuck on the most debauched night of 2016, 
then sacrifice the memories amassed in that hard and testing year on the sacrificial alter of 2017.