Teenage Buzz

A man who kisses with his heart.
Who writes with his sould intwined with his love for life and lust itself.
His talent may not be on everybodys lips or mind,
but his memory is inscripted on my thoughts he'll probably never learn to find.
Who writes about pieces of his heart
and tells tales of desite from the start.
Sins of the flesh from hotel bedrooms
and inspiration scribbled with a pen.
The saddest part of this shit is,
i'll never see him again.
A lizard king in a strange place.
Wrinkles of wisdom sprawled upon his face.
Lipstick, giggles that swim in alchol and cigerette smoke.
This night was one of the best with people who could cure everything with smiles.
I hope i never live to forget this teenage buzz.

And a poem I wrote whilst there.


I've seen enough graves to last me a life time.
That is no exaggeration,
I've been to Belgium in the June sunshine.
The rain fell upon Flanders fields like whispers in the air.
But I'll never be able to imagine the terror once there.
I've sat upon grass that has drank blood by the gallon,
I've looked upon grave yards with headstones repeated.
Like clouds in the sky.
The pain is still in the field, with the screaming word, why?
I've seen enough graves to last me a lifetime.
I'm so proud some of these brave men were mine.