From the thousands of lines drawn.
The pastel scribbled and smudged.
Paints graced onto blank spaces.

Why do I do?
No money, no acclaim.
But all the same,
I still do.

Notes strangled from guitars,
or arranged on staves.
Sound shaped to unseen geometry.
Heard by the occasional ears.

Is it all junk?
I'm no too sure
But all the same,
I do more.

Words thought and typed,
wrote and re-written.
Nonsense and sense,
some may have read.

Is there skill,
or sense in my sentences?
Or am I lost in
my own pretences?

You don't like the way the mirror's
looking at you.
It's looking right through you,
at the true you.
With it's pointed pique appraisals.
So you just turn and walk away.

A twist of a knot,
inside your skull.
a thought, a feeling.
Not to speak.
Such is the spirit of
the will of the weak.

Dream of an act,
or piston strong words.
Always fertile, never born.
Your struggle is yearning.
Doubt has a habit of
keeping you turning.

In a tryst of not,
still-born sapling.
A Restless dance.
In unending motion,
any action is studied Askance.

Old wooden knot holed thing.
rust wearing; sitting unplayed.
Strings silent.
Manuscripts of faded scores.
Tarnished ink quavers and semi quavers,
ride the weary stave.
This unheard music fills
the room with it's silence.

I don't need to see you to kiss you,
or not be with you to miss you.
No need for flowers,
speech or silence in our hours.
Or to tell you twice in a trice.
We just need to be;
to show what we both know.

When we dress in phantom finery,
we can only expect disillusionment.
Choke ourself with all our fantastic desires.
Complete mental malnourishment,
from our heart deep self harassment.

Let small smiles slither away.
Gut with tender savagery,
aversions to avarice.
Self-servile self-worth denial,
wash small magic away.

I want to melt a wax Viking,
with a piece of sword shaped kindling.
Watch the face drip, sag run into a
droopy frown of fluid features.

To saw the head from a celebrity mannequin.
Watch fall it to the floor,
with it's perfect teeth and face;
plastic smooth skin.
Almost as plastic and smooth as the “real” thing.

To tear the words from the mouth
of a liar, cheat, chancer and con-man.
Rearrange the words to spell out the truth.
watch the eyes and puffy face spasm,
as if possessed by a phantasm.