When I am older and my brain bleeds loss,
I will look for a glass under the autumn leaves.
When I am older and my heart leaks guilt,
I will cherish the hope that I have in the trees.
Once, I was older, and I used to bake souls,
in four walls of ash and of morning oats.
Once, I was older, and it was sweet like vanilla,
in a world which was so absent of hope.
Jan 2, 2017
Jan 2, 2017 at 2:48 PM UTC
Magic man of monophonic root
wreak havoc on the planets of
the yester-years I never saw.
‘Til this very morning, I wake.
I listen to the thirst and fear
and funk of a trembling flower.
******* and pain is hard to
swallow. Breathe, awkwardly
through stars of the regular.
Your tears are too cool to cry.
They would dry up and crust
under a spotlight hotter than Mars.
But you cry to me, in the midst
of an hour, minute or day. Now
a momentous speck of stardust.
Nov 26, 2016
Nov 26, 2016 at 9:52 PM UTC
I'll never render, only lie
through teeth so cracked,
so broken. By the fluid of
desire that has tainted me.
Forgive my splinters and
excuse my scars which
scream in your face and
strangle you, Father.
Idle consoles and dusty
comics. They lie upstairs,
with much more honesty
than me. Your bearded child.
It took short of ten years,
to grow long, ***** and
poor. I have been taken
by the concrete of London.
I have a new found love,
a libido for burn and for a
***** ***** of the promise
land. Intravenous fling.
But I am back now, Father,
with some chocolate,
sweeties and smack. I am here.
And I want all that you have.
Oct 2, 2016
Oct 2, 2016 at 2:33 PM UTC
Sat in the Pub Zoo, I can nestle
And lie, in the hustle and bustle
Of this merciless crowd of brick.
My thoughts are my own for me
To lay down on a bed of broken
Bones, and weary, weeping eyes.
I look up to see a skeleton of black
And of piercings. I will never know
What it thinks, for which I am grateful.
For sometimes, I don’t wish to seek
Another ruin. My neurological debris
Is enough, it tortures me until tomorrow.
I do not hope, or wish, or think
Or willingly believe. I just sit and
Exist and critique the sobbing leaves.
Apr 26, 2016
Apr 26, 2016 at 12:29 PM UTC
I am watched by the familiar trees
that tower over my head as I lay to
rest on a pillow filled with ambition.
This courteous view of a field so high
on immature spirit and tender cries,
never fails to seek love and hope for me.
Me, a sack of bones that sits alarmingly
awake and aware of the clouds as they
drift solemnly but surely into my eyes.
I will try to acknowledge and love the
others but it's the sounds, not noises,
I dwell on here, and cry at every night.
Apr 5, 2016
Apr 5, 2016 at 1:41 PM UTC
I tell myself that
I don't need the
Speed, or some
Rush that drags
Me discordantly
Soul twitches fast in
A morning rush for
Peaceful dreams,
Which I can’t even
Begin to pursue
She, he, won’t let
Me drift heartedly,
So weak that could
Perish if I sneeze
Or if I cough
There’s a shiver
That’s shouting at
Me so harshly and
Coldly but I will tell
It to please, go to bed
Mar 18, 2016
Mar 18, 2016 at 4:33 AM UTC
I don’t want to know,
No, I don’t really care.
I don’t want you to show me
How you’ll always be there.
Because I don’t think I will,
No, not for a while.
So just allow me to ****
This mindless smile.
It is doing no favours
For you or for I,
It’s not making me braver,
Just guiltily sly.
Feb 23, 2016
Feb 23, 2016 at 12:46 PM UTC
My heart pours
smooth like a
fine red wine,
And I scowl and
scamper for a
glass in the night,
So it can land so
safely and surely
for consumption.
But someone always
drinks it so fast
with no remorse.
And it was I
who poured it.
I allowed it
to be drunk.
Feb 5, 2016
Feb 5, 2016 at 9:07 PM UTC
If I could lie in bed, by my window
forever, I would. But only when
it’s dark and stormy outside and
the wind whistles by my side,
around the middle of November.
If I could listen to the trees roar
and growl, so peacefully loud,
not here with me, but still so
close, I would jump at every chance.
If I could feel the subtle draft
of chaotic darkness kiss my
cheeks and bare shoulders
for years and years, I would.
Feb 4, 2016
Feb 4, 2016 at 2:03 PM UTC
A country road with
a hazel glow, that
settles around the
watching lazy clouds.
Some kindly fox
that creeps and sits,
camouflaged in a
familiar field of corn.
The floating flies that
swarm adrift, they’re
careful not to try to
care about anything.
Smells of sweet air,
of apples and of pears
and of heat that hugs
your drooping nose.
This land which I don’t
know, and never have I
been will allow me to
visit maybe one day.
Feb 2, 2016
Feb 2, 2016 at 4:38 PM UTC