Sunday, 9 August 2026

Somewhere in a distant dream

 

I dreamt about you last night

as dawning sunlight started

to push aside the moonlight.

I was walking and I tripped upon

a whisper I'd left under a moonbeam,

somewhere in a distant dream,

and you came to hold a hand, to lift me.

And whilst I lay sprawled at your feet,

a feeling clawed me deep. I had

fallen for you, and your beauty.

 

The whisper you see

was a memory of the moment

our eyes first connected

across a sea of faces.

And the whisper was a word

I held deep within.

Destiny.

For I'd met you before in a dream

upon a different shore. And in a time before,

a life before,

a past memory bleeding into reality

through the pores

that fallen stars leave in the night.

 

And the dream wasn't obscene,

it didn't share any lustful scenes,

just a conversation held

beside a moonlit stream.

And you whispered sweet kisses,

saying when you wake, fate will be a witness,

for our words will span worlds and I'll visit

your heart in the daylight upon a sunbeam.

I'll leave a dream upon your screen, a message

of hearts, just a subtle kiss from mine to yours.

 

And I lay my head upon your lap,

and we watched as the stars blinked

a heart in waves of blinding colour.

 

And I turned back to see I was alone,

but it didn't matter, for my heart would

beat together with yours forever and a day.

 

I just have to wait for the message

to ping onto my screen.

A monument of lonliness

 

Some days it feels like

I'm stuck in reverse,

a monument of loneliness, statuesque.

Frozen icicles clinging tightly

to my stuttering soul, and the world is

blurring around in fast forward.

I'm seasick on dry land.

And sometimes

I just need a hand to hold.

 

I don't fit any cliques,

I can't sit in nooks or crannies,

a social misfit, too misshapen

to be in your circles. But I'm not square,

I'm a dodecahedron with many sides

that people never get to see, because I'm

unfit to be invited to your party.

When I'm crowded, I get clouded

and my lips fall down

in a downcast rain.

 

And I'm a monument

of loneliness lost

in my own timeline,

mind working overtime,

alone with just my

thoughts for company,

and they are not friends

I'd wish on anybody.

But I can't let on

that I'm in there,

drowning in my own pain,

suffocating

from four-walled mirrors

staring back, pushing down

on my chest.

 

Feet paddling

in slow motion.

A ripple on an ocean that

no one can see

because the ocean is vast,

and my impact

is so minuscule.

 

See, I've always found

it hard to be

a people person.

I talk too much or too little,

I get lost in the tiny details

and miss

the grand picture

hanging over me.

I'm weird, my head in the clouds

Some of the time.

but my heart yearns

to hold onto a hug.

Because I'm also

the life of the party. I love to sing

from the top of my lungs,

I love to dance, I love my weird

and my eccentricity.

I'm a lover, a romantic, passionate,

I'm ice and fire, oil and water,

the dark horse, the laughter,

the smiles, I'm loved

and I'm healing everyday.

 

I'm complex. I'm human.

 

Hi, I'm Kyle.

Saturday, 8 August 2026

A glance of symbolism

 

Your face is a poem, lyrically

alluring, alluding to mysteries.

A million stories, an

overflowing ocean of dreams.

An abundance of song,

a glance of symbolism.

Your glistening lips,

shimmering in the midday sun,

the dancing smile within.

 

The onomatopoeia of your eyes

and we are one. You are I,

a seer of my soul, and I am

yours, whole.

As time ticks on, we wave into

the brilliant blue. I muster the

courage to dive deep through

iris hearts, pounding seas.

Soft souls live inside,

pupil to master, lover, guide.

Decoding secrets

whispered in subtle sighs.

 

Your tongue softly curls around

a rhyme, sounds sublime

from inside, subtle sweetness,

the sugar taste of those words.

A flick of a kiss, a gentle

breath of wind, like a swift shift

to the passing of time.

And your cheeks gleam

rose-petal flowerbeds,

perfect clean red, the

blooming thoughts painted

through the canvas in my head.

 

The wave of the hair,

sweeps around

seashell ears in pools of

wonder. A shoreline of

beauty. And the smile

lines that my eyes behold

share the laughter

of so many days, and stories told,

the hope of a boat floating

somewhere hurt has no name.

 

And your face is a poem, for it

frames the world with beauty.

It shames those that wish to

ruin its dignity, it smiles in the face

of the mean, it sings at the pain,

and it blows kisses to the wind.

And hateful hearts won't ever see

the truth that lives in those eyes,

for like a mother it cradles cries

and gifts so much more inside,

the exquisite creative mind, and

the surface shines

a smile in the face of adversity.

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