My love is like a rafflesia With a fragrance that is causing anaesthesia Large and red, red and large Like a rose-coloured barge Upon the river Thames But I am not liking your friendship with that man called James It is the only blot on my love pure and simple Which is like the soft soft dimple On your smooth and buttery cheeks On which I am taking many peeks Only my love is not parasitic Like rafflesia but it is stalagmitic Growing slowly and maturing with time Like an old pond with green slime I am truly in love with you But everyday your behaviours are teaching me something new. (Originally written for The Dreaded Poets' Society )
The message is supreme;
Born in the heart,
and lilting itself
from tongue to tongue,
throwing its scent
over wind and wave;
travelling on dots
or fingers
when blindness
or silence bar its way.
It hews itself into stone
or burns itself onto magnetic discs;
it is the message that lives
and I exist
solely to pass it on.