Through The Alphabet--The Letter "X"

Cold nights
Spent without you
Wondering how you’re doing,
My past flame, my lost Xanadu
I feel sick as a dog
Phlegm xanthic with infection
Wondering how things got this way
And why I feel slanted
Initially we were a team
We walked hand in hand
Then you surpassed me
In favor of seeking a nature more relevant
More Xaverian
You boarded a small xebec
Excited to be free
Excited to see something
Something xenon
Something not dull
Something that wasn’t me
I had no idea I was so toxic
So xylene
How silly I was to think
That an act of xylography
On our secret, precious tree
Was something romantic
Something that would forever Be
Now I’m left alone
Fevered, with no one to take care of me
Anything at this point
Would probably strike home
And send a slight ding
On my heart’s little xylophone
My chest feels heavy
My xiphoid in pain
Xanthene fungus
Blocks my airway
If only you were here
My heart would be less afraid
I do hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for
But please remember
You have someone here
Who is always ready
To reopen that door

 Just to to escape the cold and wet
Not Xanadu, that holiday you expect
The swimming pool it had a xanthic tide
 Building sites just side by side  
From our hallowed walls, that xavarian aplomb
Our cosset but without much sun and palm trees fronds
We need that xenon light shine down
Culture under cloudless sky, whilst suntan brown
To see the xylograph, applaude its style
A type face of calligraphy upon the toilet tile
The xylophone of the mosquito's drone
The ancient xebec boat of shallow draught
Tried sea worthiness, not like modern craft
Plummet all hope when our dive boat sank
The xylene thinners in the drums  
It leaked, its fumes upset all our tums
The nurses were so kind
Said your so lucky to survive  
Just a small lump on your chest
The heart massage that xiphoid did not effect
We were so sick packed our bags
Filled them up with booze and fags
 Like sweets stuck to seats with xanthene gum
Don't stick around, go home to mum
 
 
 

Although he was a sailor in the old xebec ship La Gracia,
He saw himself as somewhat of a new age alchemist,
Mixing xanthene and xylene and different other elements,
Always determined to be something of a catalyst.
One time they thought he would set the ship on fire,
When the xenon in his room began to shine bright blue,
But the alchemist in his xaverian haircut assured them,
It was just a chemical reaction that made a beautiful hue.
So then the captain of the ship called him to his quarters,
Asking him if he’d work on other less dangerous tasks,
Running his xanthic colored fingers through a xylophone,
The alchemist nonchalantly told him simply to “relax”.
“I have studied modern cartography and xylography,
I can tell you about xiphoid and the human skeletal frame,
But the real undiscovered territory is this pseudoscience,
For in alchemy you will find new energy and true fame.
You and your sailors worry about the destinations,
Whether you’re trying find Atlantis or Xanadu,
With this discipline I will harness the power of creation,
For I am an alchemist and there is nothing you can do.”
The captain upon seeing his madness quickly pulled rank,
And later that day made the alchemist walk the plank.

 
 
‘T was on a sojourn, many miles I’d gone,  
‘Low xanthene sky of pink and bluish red.  
And heard the zephyr’s xylophone in song,  
When I’d arrive ‘neath Xanadu’s sunrise.  
 
Wrapped in a flowing xanthic saffron robe,  
While on a ladened Xebec sailing ship.  
I looked across the prow at dawn’s first strobe,  
The thrill against my heaving xiphiod!  
 
Six members of the Xaverian sect;  
An order of their brotherhood by birth.  
Were on their way to witness for the Church,  
To convert souls to raise them from the dirt.  
 
It wasn’t meant to be a merry band,  
They strained to know about the new old world.  
To wander through a strange and mistic land,  
And look a naked savage in the eye.  
 
And yet in spite, we’d all heard tell the tales;  
Of how ingenious, cultured, good and pure.  
Now there we stood - the savages prevail  
What did we have of theirs in which to lure?  
 
The missionaries came to study them,
These people mythical that lived so long.  
Who tilled, turned & gathered lightheartedly,  
Harvesting children each day with a song.  
 
Excelled in the making and uses of  
Xylene for the industry of printing.  
And their exquisite abilities in  
the Teak-crafting art of xylography.  
 
But I hoped to learn how, scant amounts of  
Xenon in the thin atmosphere, supplied  
Light for their nights in a valley fringed by  
Snowbound mountains that held back...  
 
...t h e   f i e r c e    w i n d s

The taste of your lips had me on a ride    
      
Starting out you were everything, sweet,      
Sun to my flowers      
Honey to my bees      
     
You were like fire     
I ignored the highly flammable signs      
To only recognize your sweet      
     
I thought our love would last forever      
Together we’d happily be      
Like a carving K+C      
It would read on an oak tree      
     
I look back at photographic flashes  
Who is this stranger that I once knew      
If I only could’ve seen the light      
I wouldn’t have gotten close to you      
     
All my friends tried to warn me      
Friends just called it a summer fling      
You played me like a xylophone      
My feelings plucked like string      
     
You did dance numbers all over my heart      
As if it were disco moves     
You said you wouldn’t hurt me, you didn’t follow through      
     
Just like UV rays, guess you thought you caused no pain      
My love was Xebec & you just wanted sex in exchange.      
     
Your love was      
     TOXIC