10 December 2011


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"

7 September 2011

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

27 August 2011

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


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


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

21 August 2011


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

19 July 2011

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

15 July 2011

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

14 July 2011

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

5 July 2011

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

29 June 2011

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

12 June 2011

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

11 June 2011

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

22 April 2011


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…

18 April 2011

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

15 April 2011

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


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

14 April 2011

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

12 April 2011

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.

29 March 2011

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

27 March 2011

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.

17 March 2011

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
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…

10 March 2011

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

7 March 2011

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

5 March 2011

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

3 March 2011

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
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

24 February 2011



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

15 February 2011


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

13 February 2011

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


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

11 February 2011

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