Just the strum of your guitar
Nothing less, nothing more.
Just the comfort of your voice
A mistake, a bad choice.
Just something that felt right
A warm touch, the lost nights.
Just one thing that I’ve learnt
Bob was wrong - music hurts.
May 26, 2012
May 26, 2012 at 4:28 PM UTC
Moments like this
Are when I wish I had my Polaroid
An infinite moment to make me think
"This would make a beautiful photograph"
(The photographer's curse, darling),
I'm content to just let this moment be, though
Though at the same time, my mind's eye strains to see
What this would be:
We're glossed with sweat and crowned with messy hair
My teeshirt's too big; my legs are bare
My ******* poke taut in the cool, still air
Copper tumbles onto your shoulder as I sit beside
Tilt my head, and lay to rest
The sunlight glances and polishes your halo
Your dark gaze watches out of the window
Dust motes illuminate, suspended around your face;
I fancy that it's fairy-magic
Although you're not the hero of some story - but, maybe mine?
With the roll in your caress that's passed to my palm
I stare into the little gilded world with you
Stealing a little glance at your bare chest,
The elastic of your boxers clinging over tight hips -
Just need to remind myself that it's real
Picture perfect, but this perfection is real
Take the roach to my lips
Take a minute to appreciate this
Inhale, exhale
This moment is infinite
The smoke twists away slowly
My mind's eye sees how beautiful it would be
In gentle-focus monochrome...
Then, I let the notion go
I act so naturally, but in my head I know
This next motion is picture-perfect
My white fingers are slim
Hand not quite steady; I tremble from our workout
Not moving from your shoulder,
I reach around the cocked neck of your guitar:
Just relax, and let time slow
Hear the peaceful tune flow from your skilled hand
I press the roll to your mouth
The crackle of burning embers dances with the string notes
Smoke streams out as I lift it away
And there -
In that split second as I begin to move,
There the Polaroid would have clicked and immobilised;
This moment so high in too hot a day
Picture perfect in my mind's blue eyes
May 23, 2012
May 23, 2012 at 5:40 PM UTC
You're sure to find a rabbit waiting
If you step to the tick of a pocket-clock
In the courtroom you'll be debating
Out of your head the Hatter will knock
If you go running through a Caucus Race
Your folks are sure to worry
They'll check your eyes and the set of your face
But the rabbit wants you to hurry
Skid along the checkered corridor
And neck the layered drink
I don't know what you're crying for
Because in those tears you may sink
Follow the smile of the Cheshire Cat
Down a rabbit hole you will fall
They'll ask if you're out of your hat
But the Caterpillar just gave you a call
Drop this quick and lets get higher
Swallow this and you'll come right down
The Door-mouse's eyes are getting heavier
The Red Queen is showing a frown
One more moment to hear a twisting Tail
Another to pour some tea
Grant one more to follow the riddle's trail
You'll never escape from me.
May 18, 2012
May 18, 2012 at 9:03 PM UTC
Say hello to a world of ***** shots
Coloured pills replace jelly tots
Her hair is a mess when she comes downstairs
No second guesses at what they did up there
The room pulsates to an electric band
Welcome to Teenage Wonderland
Get caught up in a fast-ticking clock
Play with imagination's building blocks
Darling, you've no need to fear
They're just trips so get over here
Drop that bomb and taste that tang
Welcome to Teenage Wonderland
Come to dance with Satan's girl
Faster and faster the room will twirl
A glint is wicked in her too-big eyes
Calm your nerves, drain the bottle dry
Someone else puts a joint in your hand
Welcome to Teenage Wonderland
Your senses have fully woken up
Just one more sip from the golden cup
Then they have you smash another line
This feeling has got you in a bright-thorned vine
But it's too heavy, you can't withstand...
Goodnight to Teenage Wonderland
Apr 24, 2012
Apr 24, 2012 at 3:46 AM UTC
Remember the day we caught the train?
It was never the start
A change of heart, maybe
But I know
We were too young and blind to see
That I’d end up sat on the train; a passenger
A stranger to what we could’ve had.
We rode the coast
But you smashed the solid rock over my brighter day
Write another song to capture my pain.
If every time I wanted you, I could go home
Ride the coast with you, step into the sky, why
I’d never stop
I guess I can’t anyway, though
Or I wouldn’t know what it’s like to be sad.
Maybe it’s time to let go for a while, stop counting the days I’ve missed
Don’t you want those days?
No. I’m just a passenger. This isn’t right.
I know you, and I shiver inside. Do you even see
That it was never the start
Was there ever an end? It was your change of heart.
I’ll wait for another now, so that I can have
The taste of smoke on your breath when we wind up in our favourite coats.
Step through the door and this empty gray will transform
Be a golden June again
Or a fluster of snow and the firelight on your back.
I guess I’ll have to content myself
With the memories
When things are getting wild.
I guess I’m just not the kind of girl
Not the sort you can see in your world
Just a passenger; a stranger to all the things I could’ve had.
I’ll sit all alone, let it hold me down
Hope I roll my lucky number so that you’ll hear
“You and I should ride the coast…”
Mar 16, 2012
Mar 16, 2012 at 5:35 PM UTC
I can see how it will go,
But I always say we'll never know
and I run after you
I still set myself up for the fall
Still suprised when I break
Forgot that everyone will take
but I'll never learn
I'd still follow you into the dark
Feb 28, 2012
Feb 28, 2012 at 6:10 PM UTC
And at night, I no longer check under my bed
Because the scariest monsters are all in my head.
Feb 24, 2012
Feb 24, 2012 at 7:41 PM UTC
I'm not home until I'm there with you
No parent's house or old primary school is home
Home is a hardwood bench, a gap in the hedge, a hill atop a carpark.
But that still isn't home
I'm there now, alone
It's a graveyard without you, I can't call it my own.
I'm not home until I'm there with you
No childhood bed or favourite city is home
Home is the dying fire, sharing a cigarette with you, a quiet road in the cold.
But that sill isn't home
I'm there now, alone
Just haunting it without you, a dead weight in my bones.
I'm not home until I'm there with you
No grandmother's kitchen or familiar view is home
Home is a bear hug, the scent of a midsummer's breeze, a cuppa in your garden.
But that still isn't home
I'm there now, alone.
Tears streaming without you, my heart turns to stone.
Feb 11, 2012
Feb 11, 2012 at 12:57 PM UTC
I can feel me
******* breaking under gray skies
As I dream of red eyes
And green grass
CPT Slime and Rasta's daft laughs
And the taste of tobacco on your tongue
While I wash up in SlimeyG's kitchen
Good God, if I wasn't there, that infamous week would've been filthy!
We can feel
The bass ******* it through the sideboard
SlmieyG's lounge walls are shaking hard
And we cackle bare
When Big Gay tumbles grinning downstairs
So I stick the kettle on
Good God, we caned a litre of milk in one round of teas!
I can hear
Those slimey green dawgs singing loud
When we bring Tom's cake out
And his face is a chuffin' picture
At the realisation of the six-layers' topper
So throw him a Clipper
Good God - eighteen, eighteen, EIGHTEEN tokes to clear it!
So, will you?
Can we all get together? We'll feel alright
For just one more warm hazy night
And when we sing these songs
Of freedom, we'll laugh in peace together. So long
To misery, my brothers
Jan 29, 2012
Jan 29, 2012 at 2:36 PM UTC
I do not want to be thin
So I say.
And yet, I,
Me, myself,
Carefully controll
Meticulously manage
22-inch waist,
And still shrinking away.
Jan 5, 2012
Jan 5, 2012 at 5:44 PM UTC