Escape

Through self-destruction I found salvation
Through deconstruction I found a reason to be
Discovering a good woman and okay wine
Warmth and touch all made sense

Taking everything apart piece by piece
Saying goodbye to what was once held near
To breaking my own heart
To not writing about it

Feeling everything every painful day
Wanting escape
Finding freedom
Getting lost

Something more has been found
A new identity created
Circumventing sacrificing the old
I've never been sadder and more happy

I want release and to let go
But I can't
I'll find release wherever I can
I know it can be found

I can taste it
smell it
touch it
It will come

Bitter Shits

It was me all along who didn't belong
I had borrowed an idea that I didn't own
I had tried to make shapes fit in the wrong holes
and force keys into the wrong doors
Making a story out of it all

Trying to switch the purpose around
To find paradigms that felt right
Swallowing lies at wholesale prices
that won't stop going up
Selling bullshit in uniform precision

People who know less than me who want more
Another life that better fits in with Saturday nights
Huddled around a TV set of throwaway memories
and endless chains of clothing retailers
Selling unique identity to the lowest bidder

Parents warning their children of the dangers
Hidden in the dying written word
Fake breasts and good teeth can sell your children
absolutely anything
You buy them lies

but I'm just a bitter old shit who likes nothing more
than to call you out
behind false identity
behind the farce you wanted to see
but don't trouble yourself over any of this

Like I said
It was me all along who didn't belong

Death of a Manager

Fading in elusive as midnight breeze
The sharp needles of overworked lungs stabbing breaths
A head full of a million ideas
a few less tasks
and no ideas left to own

The pain has become innumerable
Was this what it felt to fight front line
Even though the cause lacked any sensibility
Beyond the lining of others pockets
Still the pain was all but too real
Either individual organs were giving up
Struggling under the pressure of machines
Constant lying and conspiracy
Fighting against the workers
Or the whole body is doomed
Rotting away for a chance to pay to live

The hours are longer than they should be by more than double
People interfere like a child attacking an ants nest
Desperate to find a part of something that has no reason to be
We drone onwards towards a goal that doesn't exist
Merely the end of a day and that fateful day
Celebration when the walking dead are celebrated

Pay day is our capitalist holiday
We arrive at work all the same
With a sense of justice
As if what we have endured was worth it all
As if a dying husk was worth a healthier pocket
and things to call our own

It's not
It was all lies
Seeing through the lies
Creating unrest and discontent
Truth reveals itself through muffled rage

We have dammed ourselves
To unrequited servitude

Mourning Splendour

Eyes burning red through uncooked steak road maps
Pain shooting through raging rapid alleyways
Bleeding out golden rainbows of morning dew
Lungs removing unneeded bitter caramels

Humble mistakes return through vivid day dreams
Morning wood dawns in  glorious splendour
A reminder of brunettes dancing close in waves
and blondes with their tongue in my ear

Whispering secrets
"I bet you say that to all the girls"

Glow Sticks

Glow sticks instead of diamond bracelets
And borrowed cigarettes that calm the storm
Of the last shot

A tight dress with a zip that adds to the curve
Lipstick stained hand that holds my shoulder
As we talk about nothing

Sharing the pointlessness of this moment
And lost in false glamour with ease
A realisation begins to dawn

The dance floor whore is Queen

White Assassin

My head won't slow down
I'm looking at this page
Writing words
Trying to focus
But countless shots
And glasses of beer
And pints of cider
And bottles of wine
Keep reminding me
That there's too much shit inside
For me to just sleep
So instead I smoke
And I write
And I walk
And I browse pointless shit online
Anything for a distraction
But I won't worry too much
I'll be asleep soon
And regretting it all in the morning.

Reflections of a 26 Year Old

I look through the mirror and wonder at what I see
Staring back at me through tired eyes
And wearing skin

I write words on mobile phones and I can't help but think
Am I as fake as I feel

Does my incessant need to explore the depths of this
Constant aching husk mean anything
Is any of it real

I write in scattershot day dreams to see what sticks
Probably 10% of it is okay

I'm ageing... I can feel it creeping in from the gut up
Doors keep on closing but in their wake there remains
The few unopened

I write about these few remaining paths
Out of desperation

Perhaps if I owned a typewriter or a little book
I would feel more secure

Summer Life

Walking outside barefoot after a summer shower
The brief glimpses of sunshine had warmed the ground
Still wet and with the sun breathing more into it
The ground felt alive with blades moving between my toes

I breathed smoke as insects danced through untold rituals
Holding celebrations through the light and shade
Flying fast like shooting stars of a microcosm

The sun shines again to bliss everything
Remind us that it's still there
Burning an infinity away
Making this little garden
A paradise of existence

Shopping List

Headphones in my ears on an empty train
Fried toast made by someone else
Money I didn't know was there
A smile from a stranger
An unexpected conversation
Fucking for breakfast
And blow jobs for dinner
Cartoons on TV
A book I haven't read before
But will again
Meeting someone I know
But who doesn't know me
All of this and more
And words on a page

Window Pains

(in honour of Poetry Night)

Sweet syrup tainted by golden nectar
Ashes strewn away unneeded
Yet not discarded with complete disregard
Prose and lyrical waxing filled the air
As did smoke of known origin

There was never 36 burgers
Neither was there 24 chips
The fool had read the order wrong

The rain continued to fall
All a futile affair
And attempt by nature
To distract us

Carol Ann Duffy has gotten fat
We drink anyway
Shocked by the poet with no vices

Soon

Tearing down the pariah's tower
Twisted metal with vines growing free
Animals roaming the streets
Stalking prey as intended

The undivided pulled at the lose threads
Of your false governments and maps
Burning it all to the ground in the name of nothing
Rebuilding from the ashes

A return to how we once were
Laughing maniacally as we dared
To press reset
And never look back

Late Night Romance

It was late and the last train in
They had been drinking homemade cocktails
Straight from plastic bottles of anywhere origins
He had the rosey hew of a man that drank from daylight
She wore her alcoholism around her waist like a trophy
They both were bloated and fucked in a not so obvious way

The tickets wouldn't be checked at this inconvenient hour
When people who embodied the label of cunt
Were just looking for a reason to spit a fight
They moved away from me and my touristic drinking
But it did nothing to help the image I held
I had seen her pawing at his unwashed jeans

From two rows down I could hear the release
The zipper chiming in with the rhythmic track
She had as much enthusiasm as the fair vessele we shared
He moaned in approval as she got to work
Slurping noises filled the carriage as she guzzled him whole
Like it was her last meal or probably rent for the night

I wanted to hate them
I envied them instead

Smokescreen

Happiness will always be dependant
On belief in a lie and blind faith
Loving a whore will never be truthfull
Just smokescreens and deception
The heart buying the lie
Sold to it at half the price

Fuck the one who made you smile
Who held you when you were sad
Promise yourself to her forever more
Plant a seed together and grow a tree
Sell your soul for a pack of cigarettes
And always look back

Ocean Wave

(a haiku)

Caressing your love
Without a care in the world
Abstinence will win

August

I had been cruising slow with the summer breeze
They had all been walking past with worlds of their own
Trapped in my own, all I could do was smile keep moving

The sun had blessed every one with radiant optimism
Short skirts and tops that gave away everything were everywhere
I couldn't help but look, and the last thing I needed was help

The pearl hidden amongst the diamonds walked in front of me
She had everything and more, she could eat, she could drink
With an obvious wink she stole my sight, and won't let go

Red Means Stop

She smiled with bright red lips
Brown eyes shrouded in darkness
Dressed for success
or perhaps just money in the bank

Legs in tights to drive you insane
A flash of chest but not cleavage
More class than most
or perhaps just a winning smile

Returning more than just a smile
Yet nothing more I am reminded
I am surrounded by her and more
but forever alone
with the girl at the train station

She Knows

You don’t care but she does

She’s always there for me

Eyes close when I kiss her sweetly

Lips smile knowingly when we’re done

Her eyes look into mine when we’re together

And they know

You don’t care but she does

To pick me up when I’m feeling blue

Telling me lies to make the fires go away

Changing my colour

Sharing words of deep meaningless and pure romance

Holding my hand when we walk

Knowing that it means everything and nothing

You don’t care but she does

Because she knew what you were like

When you were a bundle of nerves

And self-awareness caught the breath in your lungs

When you drank what she drinks

She kept her promises

We dance every night

In the streets

In the bars

In the bedroom

She hears the music you once heard

The Women Who Loved Me

I made with the small talk before pulling her in close

We had no pretences about the whole situation

I was there to fuck

She wanted it and I needed to give it

Thoughts of love and the act of making it

Were left far behind

Grabbing her in way that bordered on violent

We knew something was wrong about the whole situation

But it was too late

My lips were locked on hers with serious intent

My hands were finding ways under her clothing

Our tongues danced

Thoughts of excitement crept in too soon

I stared at the wall while concentrating on the job

It wasn’t too late

Moving my hips in time with hers

I felt her grip me as tight as she could

She was there to fuck

Realising that the job had been done many times over

I let myself go and shouted unknown incantations

Falling into her arms

Sweat dripped from our bodies with the deed done

What had happened had no meaning to her

Nothing was real

July at Night

Piercing through the neon glow of man-made desires

Setting alight a flame that draws lovers like moths

Bathing the world with its purest radiance

The light of the sun that shines at night

Pulling you in unsurpassed by the countless millions

Blinding young hearts and old eyes alike

Putting faith in its providence can be dangerous

But to truly live is to trust it unconditionally

The life it gives to the other side is so enticing

It pulls so hard that oceans bend to its will

Despite divine presence

I can’t help but howl like a demon

Trapped in wolfs clothing

White Feather

Escaping on a breeze of purest defiance

Laughing in the face of approaching skies

Although it serves no genuine purpose

It can be seen as essential to inspiration

Dancing in the wind with perceived intent

I can’t help but wonder how it chooses where to go

Does it have a sentience that we can’t possibly perceive?

Would it matter if we could?

A mind of its own caged by freedom

Created to sustain a higher purpose

In understanding that it is meant to be part of a whole

It exudes splendid beauty of solidarity

Lost in the void yet existing free of its confines

Performing in secret for all to see

Touching the minds and hearts of the few

A shining example of how to be

4 Years

It all started with a number

The number changed

Increasing and decreasing

Offering different meaning

Applying new values to old symbols

In the end

I’m left just where I started

With a number

Burnt Beauty Queen

Your ugliness seethed through to the surface

Mocking you under a cement thick layer of lies

The false goddess of the make believe nightmare

A perversion of the capitalists on TV

Sell it for cheap because you won’t get more

Want far more than you think you need

Make them buy your greed and envy you more

Advertise it on two hundred channels

But don’t feel bad about it at all

I see your beauty hidden below slipping armour

I’ll look after you when he or she leaves

We all know you’re human

…after all

Pocket Watch

You took your hand from out of my pocket

Only to find pieces of paper that had been torn to shreds

Broken promises of the bygone age of man and machines

Laughable in the face of this present future

Where sleep is reserved for kings of nothing

And the pauper must toil away in regretful futility

The lowest common denominator had become your currency

Nothing beats punching yourself in the face for a few laughs

The machines ate it up like sugar coated rotten tuna

Unaware of the damage they do or of your intent

But in this present future your hard work is all for nothing

I found a way to break your madness and be free of broken promises

In my other pocket I kept something far more powerful

I kept something that was rare in this present future

That few dare to create and even less dare to keep

------------------------------------------------------------

A clenched fist of purity and infinite possibilities

One that swung for you when you were distracted

By shreds of paper

April

Something was there in the well-lit darkness

It was summer or so the night air told

There was something alive out there

Secrets foretold by the cooling breeze

A prophecy of the months to come

It was only April but the wind whispered

Prepare for beaches and short skirts

Outside things smelled different

Like the plants were talking to each other

Sharing things we couldn’t or wouldn’t understand

The cold stone ground caresses my bare feet

My head feels clearer now the day has passed

It was as beautiful as the low hanging yellow moon

It rejuvenated and filled the soul with excitement

Soon… Things were coming soon…

Scarred Lungs

All this frustration pounding on my chest

Beating through my heart and raping my veins

Tearing the walls of my lungs down

only to have them spit up unceremoniously

Stained teeth and frayed nails

Cuticles attempting to caress my knuckles

A scar left of centre that shouldn’t be there

Some that were earned and some for keeps

The mind continues to process everything

faster than it seems possible

but with an end result

an answer that is just out of reach

the solution that has greater than binary definition

creeping forth slower than concrete drying

within the steel frames of buildings

designed to insult god

You’ve built prisons of venison walls and crudité bars

Where poison is legal but not always

The people who claim to protect you are lying

through their wallets

Spend to survive and to make yourself ill

Deny it and be set free to live a longer prison sentence

The trap is infallible in design like infinity

Breathe

It

In

Wasted Time

It could be everywhere but you’d never know

Hidden away in the darkest reaches of plain sight

Seeping out of carbon burns on walls

But I see you…

I feel you…

I’m up all night trying to find you

But you’re lost in the vertical worlds

Of known possibilities

But I know you’re there…

I heard all of you move…

If you want to visit and hit me

Please do so with aplomb

I’ll be ready waiting

She said she didn’t want me

Not with her “no”

But with her smile

and her indifferent eyes

A walk lost on the masses

But savoured by the few

All wasted by the need for one

The word is indispensable

My lust for you is not

Your warmth is growing

Pulling me deeper in

The pain is unbearable

You play on repeat in my mind

I need release

Sleep Won

Sleep won’t come too soon

These thoughts keep spilling out of me

The words claim to give them home

But in my mind I know the truth

It’s all about you

It’s four out of five

Not by design or by intent

I know you’re always there

On the verge of a reality

I see a home with a worker and a writer

I smell and touch through intoxicated senses

Unreliable but infatuated with a truth founded

It’ll never be real but it won’t leave me

It taunts me for nights at a time

I can’t make it stop

I don’t know if I want to

Forever accosted by the if only

Fooling myself lust drunk

Repetition

This time of hardship we find ourselves in

When nothing makes sense except for the burning

With everything in place wanting to be given

We’re left waiting for you to welcome us in

To be rid of this desire…

To be a part of you again

We need the passion and the gratitude

Treading familiar ground that always has renewed

But you tease us with empty promise

Filling our heads with doubt and regret…

Filling our soul until we bust in futility

Fertile landscapes that keep us caged

All we want is to be free to be who we are

Accept us without exemption or hesitation

We’ll scratch the itch and cleanse ourselves victorious…

We’ll make you scream delightful songs of the past

Agonise over every unintentional precision movement

Dig nails in deep with intent to never let go

Hold your soul and in turn release ours

I know you need us but your indifference scars…

I won’t hold back

We’ll be there for you

Filling the void

To kindle the flame

This repeating last time

Celestial Radiance

I’m dying just like you promised

I can feel your truth robbing me

Every breath I take

gives me something new

Yet it takes away

The creaking of the stairs has grown louder

My steps must be growing heavier

The radiance of the world once glimpsed light

has begun to eclipse

My options are becoming slim and malnourished

Looking heavenwards I can’t see a thing

I’ve blinded myself with ambition

But I’m learning to only take fleeting glances

lest I drown like the sun

I’ll live chained like the moon

Basking in eternity in my own filth

Print gives me nothing new

The catharsis began within and will never stop

birthing and growing in infinity

Until I find the whole and the reason

abandoned nightmares II

Your feet began to ache, as if every step was adding extra weight to your body, slowing you down, making you cumbersome. Glancing up the road, the man in the suit appeared to be miles ahead, urging you to catch up to him with a smile and a beckoning wave. The task seemed impossible. Dust blew in your eyes, forcing tears to roll down your cheeks and your face to burn. In the corner of your vision, the man in the straitjacket scurried up alongside you, matching your pace. His walk had a tormented bent about it, he walked half hunched over, almost as if he was crouching, with his hands almost touching the floor, but never quite reaching it. His movements were primal, as if he was imitating a primate, but still clearly human. As you stopped to catch your breath, he stopped next to you and looked up with a concerned look in his hollow eyes. As you mirrored his concern, his knife slit mouth formed another chilling smile that forced you to look away.

“You’ll never catch him.” The man in the straitjacket had rasped his first words. “He’ll always be too far away, seeming to be within reach, to be within your grasp… But catching him is an impossible task.”

The shock of the man in the straitjacket talking intensified the sense of dread the sound of his voice had filled you with and froze you to the spot. You wanted to move forwards but couldn’t will yourself to do so. The man in the suit had turned to face you, to see why you had stopped. With a worrisome look on his face and a slouched posture he looked back up the road, turned, and continuing onwards. You forced yourself to look down at the man in the straitjacket. He was playing with the dirt of the road, sweeping it back and forth with his unkempt nails.

“What do you mean?” Uttering the words seemed to drain you of all your strength, like you were trying to crush your lungs with your own hands.

The man in the straitjacket took a couple of sharp breaths, tossed some of the dirt he was holding in front of you both, making an arch appear. “Never mind,” his tone had changed, the fear that had filled you began to leave, “it was nothing, you shouldn’t listen to me, he won’t like it.”

The man in the strait jacket began to move to the apex of the arch. “What? Why won’t ‘he’ like it?! Like what?!” The questions you asked seemed to be so important, as if the answer held the key to everything.

“NOTHING!” The man in the straitjacket had taken a much more serious tone and spat as he spoke. His eyes had somehow grown darker and his stature greater, as if he was almost at eye level. The fear rushed back to you as you felt intimidation in the coarseness of his breath on your face. His black eyes scanned your eyes and lips for a response. He flared his nostrils as his stature appeared to lessen and his face softened. With intrigue, he stroked your face with one long finger that appeared to be almost worn back to bone. “Don’t worry about it, it’s not important.” He murmured.

The man in the straitjacket moved away and began to continue scurrying along the road which appeared to have grown an incline during your confrontation with your ever more mysterious traveling companion. You felt the need to get a grip of the situation. Before he got too far away, you began to follow him, and shouted “what’s your name?”

He stopped. With a sinister smile on his face, he looked over his shoulder and whispered down the wind “Linus.”

Knowing his name made you feel better about him, yet there was unease at the back of your mind in a depth that you could not reach. You longed for the man in the suit. Linus stirred something inside of you that you didn’t want to accept. What was to come could not be determined. You didn’t want to accept what had happened but turning back seemed like madness. Forwards, there was something uncertain but something you felt compelled to be a part of.

Through possibility of understanding, you found hope.

Near To The End of Beginnings

But things were coming to an end

There was nothing you could do

It couldn’t be stopped

Despite your protest it came with warning

The life of old was ending

The unknown had to unfold

Like an uncontainable force

The collision would bring change

As if it knew to do anything more

As if anything else could happen

Sensations from before would wither and die

Like an old plant struggling to find life

In an old baked bean can

The women that had been close have moved on

Found their new loves

As if you weren’t enough

Rubbing salt into your wounds

Making you raw

But the one who sleeps in your bed now

The one who holds you close to their chest

Means so much

Perhaps more

The life she holds is unquantifiable

As if she has created an everyday miracle

Something known but undiscovered

No more will you sit at desks

Questioning the words of others

Leave behind your old skin

Shed it as you must

It had begun to itch anyway

Goodbye to lovers

Be closer my love

Hello to sunshine

abandoned nightmares

You sat alone, wondering what had happened. Your friends had left you, implications that the one you were was no more. That somewhere along the way, you’d lost yourself. The road ahead looked barren, but on the horizon lights suggesting something more… Something else…

Down the road, a man in a tattered old suit that had seen too many winters, with a shirt that was once white hidden under a black noose came your way. He gently tapped you on the shoulder, asking you if you were going his way. You nodded cautiously, knowing that there was something not quite right with the man in the tattered suit. That he had an unexpected element about him. He said “life is a fun ride. I can go with you but only if you bring my friend?”

Behind him sat a man in an undone straitjacket, with white trousers too short for his long legs and toe nails that were attempting to root him to the earth. Hunched in a foetal position, his long fringe partially hid tired eyes framed in black but revealed the maniacal smile he was attempting to obscure with his sleeve. He gripping his shins for dear life

The man in the suit told you “he’s no bother, he doesn’t speak often… Only when you’re weak.”

“When you’re weak?!” You asked.

“Yes, he’s a man of few words, he only speaks when is necessary, but it’s important that he travels with us. He can be a bother, but I can deal with him.”

Concern swept your brow. The man in the straightjacket shot you a smile with empty eyes that gave you chills. He looked familiar, like a lost friend from the days of black nails and girls that couldn’t be held. But something about him was different, something made you want him kept at a distance.

You trusted the man in the suit. He reassured you. He knew how to control the man in the straightjacket.

Walking down the road with a new companion and his necessary friend, you knew that new sights awaited you, things that you had never experienced before. You tried to look back, but you were compelled to move forwards by something more sinister than your travelling companions. What you could see behind you was distorted anyway, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that what had been held a place in your heart that could not be forgotten. The man in the suit assured you that what was to come was far more important than what had been.

As the lights grew brighter and nearer, and the sun grew farther, new travellers appeared on the horizon, hoping to join your journey, whether you wanted them or not.

Through abandoned nightmares, age killed the fear and anger that once was, only to replace it with new fear. You’d never be the same again.

Not For Your Eyes

You’ve kept yourself caged for so long

Giving nothing away other than noise

Sounds so silent to become lost

Gently caressing the lobes and creeping without notice

Blowing softly into my secret chamber

I’m sure I can hear your closeness

Hidden floorboards and pipes that rattle

Keeping you far away

But my heart won’t stop pounding

Closing you out as the noise fills my head

My lungs won’t stop breathing

Taking deep breathes that fill me completely

Uncontrollably

As if I’m there

I can feel your movement

Rhythmic intention and pounding frustration

Your bodies mirror each other in design but not form

Laughter of a cruel disguise

Interference gets in the way

Hassling the beauty of what is unfolding

Enforcing a law that does not exist

The wind can’t carry you away

But the rain can drown you

Throw yourselves into me again

Let me feel everything

Leave me wanting more and hearing voices

They just aren’t there

Moving quietly with deft precession

Find shelter from the want that cannot be

I seek the other ones

The ones that have freed themselves

The ones that are no longer caged

The ones that I can’t touch

The ones who don’t know me

Yet they are the ones that speak to me

The ones who know what grows in the pit of my stomach

I can hear them all too clear

But from a greater distance

That feels closer than your nearby cage

Imitation is always an option

But not one that fills the need

Leaving the emptiness of consumption

I yearn to see your dance

To write of what you do from experience

To keep the memory in a pristine picture book

That only I can see

Trapped behind my looking glass eyes

You claim to be free

But your freedom is a lie

It imitates the prison that I built without walls

The prison I loudly proclaim to be immaculately flawed

I see right through you…

Self-Inflicted Wounds

Will you be my beggar

Will you be the one who soothes my wounds

Watch as the sores open and spill out

As my vitriol turns in on itself

Consuming me and feeding my drive

Placed in the box

With nowhere to run or hide

Sensually feel me and my verb

Tell me I’m good, that I’ve been a good boy

That I’m the only one

Read my words and tell me you love them

Tell them you hate me

Feel me growing inside you

Give me peace of mind

Let me grow more and more

Take me with you and swallow me whole

Give in to my teenage urge

Feel me from the page that glows glorious

Emaciate every last inch of me

Object to nothing

Drink this down your slender neck

And tell me you hate it

Failure To Inhale

A hopeless cause

A fallacy

A sense of desperation

A causeless hope

All felt during a sharp inhale of dead space

And a slow inhale of warmth and serenity

Breathe in and breathe slow

Lose yourself inside the abyss

Find comfort and be found

Yet still be lost without reprieve

Still felt on a short inhale

Departure on exhale followed by a cough

Opening a false sense of rebellion

Discarded skin with a necessary husk

Perhaps a need to be accepted

Yet also rejected

Hold on tight

Death is becoming you

Reminder of the past

The memories that fail to die

Closer now than they were before

An imitation of an early exit

Embrace is welcome

Lungs fill as the ashes past and present fall

Hold on tight

Let go

Counter Girl

Hips that beg to be held close

A curve of truth

Lips moist and sticky

Begging to be caressed

Dark eyes that hold the whole world

Bleeding out to call you in

A smile so sinister yet so innocent

A need to touch through vision

Milk white skin that seeps into your brain

Hair that tells more than there is to be told

A frame for a secret lie

Cheek bones that cut through nerves

In her touch there is a jolt

A walk that caresses the inner most

Perversion through blurring of boundaries

Enticement with no promise

A dance meant for you

And you alone

A volume that deafens

That only can be heard by one

Is shared by many

The lie is exposed

The ignorant will always be happier

To hold inside would be suicide

Miss Medulla Oblongata

Pull the handgun

Fire an incendiary golden handshake

aimed straight for your moist brain

Blood splattering against walls

used to sign your contract

Fighting in Pollock blotches

Shrapnel digs into your skin

an itch you must scratch

Splintering metal

skin

and bone

The love for the one you chose

held close to your side

deep in their warmth

Pull the trigger

feel your stomach explode

feel your heart stop

feel nothing and everything

Do as you’re told

Swap capitalist gains for prisons

smother yourself in the

Stockholm nightmare

Sell your children’s oxygen tanks

swallowing the razor blade

Medulla Oblongata is a harsh mistress

with vomit on her sleeve

choking cancer in her lungs

and a rhythm to die for

Sell yourself to her for profit

Spend the winnings on the opiate

of splendid design

Today

Today

during our brief glimpse of summer
when the sun beat down
and the winter air calmed

The White Stripes played
slightly left of centre
Roaring through brash lo-fi's and highs

I was 16 again

for one brief moment

Tetragrammaton

Inflicting your radiant light obsessed with colour

in the best way possible

Piercing irises needle deep through pupils

The warmth of your glow breaches every pore

even in darkness

The security of your womb

The enticement of your breast

You howl as if we were the moon

rabid barking chasing us out of our homes

We hear your parables spoken in tongues

You shout louder than anything else

echoes that pain our ears

filling silence with silence

forever on repeat

Our lives are meaningless without you

You preach the words we need to hear

and guide us when we are lost

Without you we have only ourselves

and the words of artists and madmen

The fear of losing you both grips us

squeezing the wheeze from our lungs

freeing us from your grip

We must remain devout

We give praise in our dances and celebrations

sacrificing all to keep you alive

To feel your warmth

We’ll cut our wrists and let our lives bleed

sticky through our fingers

We scream your words from our chests

until our lungs are raw

for all to see

The infidel will reject you

The wise will oppose you

The devout are forever lost

bound by artificial unification

Acapella Wasteland Mob

The noise unbearable

The rabble despicable

Loathingly encapsulated and enveloped

Lost in your pointless noise

What is there to say that you must shout so loud

Your words lack any meaning and betray your camaraderie

The bleating blotches the landscape

Draping it in meaningless colour both

of absolute whites and desolate blacks

Yet you force your white noise upon everyone

intoxicated to the point of despair and futility

The sound innumerable

The flock unclean

I despise your existence

I yearn for your demise

If your words mean so much then you must contemplate

Steady your resolve and find a reason to be and meaning in

BEING

The realisation will become your own kick

Scrape your mind from the highest ceilings of low basement highs

in doing so find more, find better, find purity

Release yourself from the prison of your own design

Alpha Waves

Intertwined and interconnected
Everything is one yet
somehow not

We accept what is there
Believing what we
- see
- touch
- hear
Having faith in the juxtaposed opposition
that brings these senses to us

In passive beauty we accept
all that is there
waiting to be consumed

There is both a truth and a hypocrisy
waiting to be unravelled
Questioning the why
decimates the beauty.

In bliss we will find ignorance

The After Thought

Arriving with greater force
than ever imagined possible
The feelings felt so familiar yet different
You should have expected
everything that was to come and
my expectations that it would be different than the first
were deluded and should have been
put to rest the moment they birthed

Ponderings of why and for what reason
The need for questioning
Somewhat pointless and contrived

A need to feel some pain
In doing so
A need to share unwillingly
Regardless of feelings of spite
there exists a deeper concern over what
could be

With infinite possibilities
the reasons for these parameters
continue to evade comprehension
Yet the cycle is a necessary motion
its beauty exists in its actuation

Accepting that there is nothing left to lose
That even in the darkest of depths
being lost can have its own comfort
the lost will truly evolve
into something greater