Not so much a poet,more someone who try's to write poetry.
Not so much a poet,more someone who try's to write poetry.

The tricks of the self:
to confuse and divide, ensnare and impair,
to turn the head on the tail.
Leaving us all chasing circles,
lashing out at phantoms and grasping for dreams.
Living our life's through fiction.
Against the real, it seems we rail.

My mistake was to believe:
To believe in human kindness or reason,
or that truth is in some way potent.
The idea that humanity could make sense,
of what the past will portent.
To dream that borders would not be
barriers to better ways.

Wrap yourself up in the night,
with wingless silent flight.
Up, up into the
Pin-pricked speckled sky.
With that glowing blank-faced
lunar loon.
Beyond the dark, into dreams.
That morph and shift, pour and flow;
As if the woken world is
something you can un-know.

If you want to make a killing;
invest in war.
Seems to work,
for Blair, Bush et al.
Those that follow
the hunger of their self aggrandised,
destiny's lore.
So, roll out the blood red carpet,
leading to the future's hungry jaw.

#war   #world   #power   #cruelty   #fate   #greed   #injustice   #vile   #domination   #pathology  

I'mnotreallysurewhatI'mwritingabout.
MaybeifIstartto slowdownitwill startto
makesome kindof sense.
There, that's much clearer!

#dumb   #humour   #silly   #nonsense   #wordplay   #novelty  

You're treading slumber steps,
sloward on a single track.
Travelling beyond where
your eyes can see.
Just because you made the
choice it doesn't mean you're free.

With symbols of your uniformity,
as definitions of your individuality.
Selling yourself to yourself
just to sell it to others.
Living A life that suits;
as well as Oregon boots.

Drowning deep below,
while your words walk on water.
Swell and foam;
swim within and roam.
Just like the,
tears of your daughter;
all alone.

Grasping for self expression,
in unheard syntax.
They're are no longer yours,
as they walk to the shore.

Liquid leviathan's,
molten methods of meaning.
A truth for a truth;
matchstick's burning use.
Just like the,
world needs much cleaning;
to atone .

Grasping for self expression,
in unheard syntax.
They're are no longer yours,
as they walk to the shore.

#poem   #words   #loss   #lyrics   #change   #odd   #song   #language   #meaning   #novel  
 
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