The kiss that never was

the kiss that never was,
riding high on liqour,
and cheaply thrown drugs,
fuck the lords behind this,
cold i try to escape,
find me self wasted,
shit! should i shout,
damned be me for what i think,
now i see her,
we cuddle,
am high,
yes!
lord do i cry this away,
biggest mistake i make,
damned be the kiss that never was..

Sail on

am gone you say,
the sails are up,
am not blind enough to see that,
i let you go,
wave from the stormy harbour,
a broad smile i will give you,
so sail thee well young lady,
to sea you chose,
row your boat its your choice,
go then you to that haven,
you long have wanted,
lie where you feel warm,
it's been cold nights i know,
embrace that that makes you safe,
would do with a little security too,
bid farewell my world,
a dream is all it is,
and they sang of dreamers,
and warned you of falling for them,
or you forgot the tune?
oh!
don't fake those tears,
silly emotions you got,
that cunning face i have known all that time,
crocodile tears?
oh!
go on,
no goodbyes today,
sail on and never look back,
from your ocean my heart already swam..

grandpa

grandpa,
that old impressario that lives,
always calming my overstrained
galloping nerves,
a therapy of wise words,
elegant,
neat,
wisdom under grey hair lies,
Grandpa,
still knows fashion,
in denim and jordans,
age never a barrier,
a religion of the civilized follower,
Grandpa,
the pain you feel i see,
eyes curtained by tears,
the dark in me you see,
don't take my sorrow grandpa,
let me drown grandpa,
in this prohibition beer i crave,
for am left a pleasure-seeker,
allergic to those goyische ladies,
in short and long skirts,
suffer that ho that comes unto
me,
a bitch in time breeds contempt,
Grandpa
let me be for the minute,
before middle age hits,
and i get all paunchy and
ludicrous,
in pitiful puckered knees,
and vericrose veins,
a pelican belly and the indecency
of a haggard face,
foo to all that,
Grandpa

SunsetSunset

on a keen day fall,
we did part ways,
days gone but i see,
in clarity like my vodka shot,
the time you had chosen,
all prepared,
the event in a certain theatrical genious of your own,
in black stockings,
high heels,
a lavender dress with an Indian brocade,
opal earrings,
bracelets,
perfumed and hair combed,
eyelids shining with bluish cosmetics,
all that element of theatre in those looks,
damned be the flavor of subjugation,
in what was my love for you..
i picture what would have happened,
if instead of listenining so intensely,
to that beautifying and dramatic filth,
you did construct for my sunset,
and think what if?
what if i did knock you down?
what if i clutched your hair,
and dragged you screaming,
and fighting around the room?
what if i flogged you until your buttocks bled?
what if i did all this?
what if?
i shouid have torn your clothes,
ripped of your necklace,
brought my fist down your head!
but i reject this mental violence,
afraid of the secrets of such brutallity,
just hitch my agony to a star