Some moments seem eternal
to reverberate in my mind
-- and I use their memory
to light new fires that shine.

Tell me!
When my mind will drop,
(Like a pebble
To the lake of time)
Tell me!
Will the ripple stop?
What is yours?
And what's just mine?

Do I exist,
Outside these lines?

Drink in this illusion of control
Momentary masters of our destiny
'Til mother nature turns it on
The look in her eyes says you won't last long

But that feeling
Like you just might
Be there when the bird takes flight
It's enough to keep you up at night
Keep you striving
For the light.

A cup of coffee in the sun
A book, by a crackling fire
The wilderness, predicated on poetry
Renditions of Shakespeare
A game of sport
Beautiful gardens
That look in your eye
And a smoky measure, of amber gold.

All of these simple pleasures
But how simple, in reality?

For we are all connected
And woe betide he who forgets

These comforts, poetry even,
predicated on the hunt, or the farm
Long days, through the rain
Not necessarily true pain
But a certain kind of grit

What would you do?
No work, no food.

Do I really love the wilderness?
No.
I love my view of it
And should not forget the giants
on whose shoulders we sit.

Conceived in scenes
of a ****** nature
Like the waves lapping
against the shore

Or the bailiff slapping
on the door

You don't know
how urgently they call
When they beckon you from nothing
to become unto all

I've always deferred to serendipity
Nature's feast!
In front of me

But as I bite down in lust
Atop my Google search
Can I really trust
This human work?

Providence was lost at sea.
Somewhere between the advent
of language
and the internet
The algorithm's changed, see?

What is this new beat?
Who's thoughts are ringing out
the sunrise now?
Who's words fill our dreams
at 3 am?

Earth abundant with Oh Mys,
Oh my belly, oh my thighs
Oh my sensory surprise

Oh my hips, oh my lips,
Oh my palm, oh my wrist,
Oh my action, oh my whips
deviating from the script
More Oh Mys than I can fit

Or maybe this multiplicity
Crossing all with all
Simplifies to one love

A universal go, cosmic come
Cosmic to, a universal from

These Oh Mys meld
Do not be deceived
Feel the universal energy,
But oh my!
do not leave

I am an agent of violence
Or at least
I was
Overwhelmed, unconscious, tired, full of lust
I broke
with society's trust

Who's to say I won't again?
It's a dangerous game that we are playing

Not pure evil
But so much distress
Evidence of God's indifference
Definitely enough to push someone over
And it's enough shame to keep my head low.

Blessed are you, kind and considerate since birth
Keep going, dance on.

And for those of you like me
Agents of violence, in a moment of clarity?
Commit to the future, with a practice of ballet.

Go fast, if that's what you need
But go well.
Don't **** with your speed.

Oh lord tell me, is my mum with you
Why did you have to go
Will my dad come too

Oh lord tell me, why am i still here
Though i got a lotta her love to give
I've got a lot of her fear.

Oh lord tell me, just what I can do
Did i really do those terrible things
Or was that somehow you?

O ma thank you! for all of your skills
You taught me a lot of the tricks
That pay the family bills.

O ma, help me! whisper to the lord
I need him to light me up inside
And play his sacred chord

Oh lord show me! where i need to turn
I will look whichever way you say
Oh I'm still ready to learn..

No true copy
We evolve
A game of whispers
No resolve

Flying like we saw
Our king
A vision piercing
Through the wind

Come now settle
On your song.
Sing it true
It won't last long

Not rats in wheels,
but birds on the wind;
a spirit feels,
for a life on the wing

the gale holds her still,
A headwind too strong
but she soothes as she sings
For flight is her song

Hot nights and spicy bites
Something like
a real life.

Wander through
cool dark
Mad dogs
All bark

Beauty
bites you
Dancing on high
Her clothes
See through
Live; be!
Then die

So soft
So hard
Arrow deep
My heart

Looking down a dread dark sea
an infinite horizon holding space.
The billowing surface,
for unknowable depths

And, yet, she dove.

Well, she was shocked
by a cruel shove in the back.
Eyes wide and body arched,
an unintentional start -
But when you look how the tumble turned to art,
It's hard to say fall.

in unwilling plummet,
from kindred souls,
We all gazed for a moment
At the foundation of space.
And to my eyes, at least
she was looking to Grace.

Tumbling in her fear she found
an Olympic diver in her heart -
First with polished fingernails
the aftermath had yet to start.

hypnotic waters gently parted
body followed, diving true.
steadfast and strong hearted,
On a course it looked she knew.



Night time now,
and still!
Gently, the great depth
and gently,
the soaring height
touch palms, so
lively eyes see stars
below.

But the illusion offers no clue,
What might lay beneath,
When we break the glimmer
Of the dread black mirror.



Is this the same sea,
I will tiptoe to in dark
wading until my lips
can kiss the stars?

*

When i want you now I'm weary
to probe those impenetrable depths.
so i look to beautiful heavens
to catch my breath.

But perhaps that dread sea
churns the blood from each spilled heart.
It's comforting to think
We can both become a part.

Skating on the thin ice
Of an ivory clock face
Gliding like the second hand
In a never ending race

Forget yourself and fall
Through the cracks in the ground
Deep down to the mind of time
Before eternity was found

You were my bath,
On the cold Winter's day in my childhood.

Now as the water drains away,
I don't bathe lest
I'm slid to the vortex.

But risen I return
To dabble my hand in you,
In the spinning waters.

I think you feel my love,
And I yours,
As I walk,
And you swirl,
A dangerous game.

And I know you forbid me,
To approach your drain.

So let me enjoy my hand
in your current.

I wonder if I can tell you how it really was,
laying in bed in those warm covers,
with a reading light above,
close to the ceiling, in the top bunk,
with love sleeping in the next room,
and tender good nights.
Pure comfort?
Pure safety?
Perhaps something like
A boy in the realm of gods.
I can't really tell you,
how it really was.

these words
i'm scared to know
dropped like a penny
spiralling down the wishing bowl

i like the way it rolls,
fascinated,
like a child of three.

Then the drop,
I wonder where it goes?

muscle motion like a swelling ocean
thoughts running through your brain
build it and make it; thoughts remix
water the ground like rain

everyone knows that they love the sun
but they hiding in the shadows when they're having their fun
prophet on the hill says its just a game
and you gotta keep moving or you'll go insane.

I used to live
for my mortal fame
and perhaps a joy
in the sheer delight
of being

but something snapped
and i'm not the same
years have passed
with modest gain

the era of my fame has died
but i still have strength
I can supply.

i would if i can
bend my will
to take away your pain.

it's the only thing
to keep me sane.

I have a kinship with ghosts,
Sailing with echoes.
enthralled by permanence
And slow demise,
The illusions
Of paradise.

But Life was given me
Through livened eyes,

I would have wandered,
Through spiral stairs of stone,
Would my soul have a awoken?
Or would I have wondered, alone?

What is their else,
Than the look in the eyes,
Of another cosmic being,
Of this very cosmos, seeing

i will not die
this day, nor on
t'morrow.

i will watch the others journey first;
pray let them lose their way in a velvet bed,
i'd not have them die of thirst.

comfort and arm chairs for the mind
hold scant dominion over hunger.

the necessary shelter,
built even before it was begun,
and that place with the fruits that keep us alive.
they will occupy our minds
like a fire

But what when we are fed?
No more belly choice,
just head.

So philosophy is born.

That fire now is just a little candle,
scarce seen against the projections
in stream from screen after screen.

Different lights
warm and cold.
careful which you choose to hold.

i can't really tell you where to go,
don't know the seeds to sow

but even when you’re filled, know this
hunger is there; it still exists

so bring some new order to bear
against nature, or yourself

or don’t

but if you want things to be at all different from what they are,
you need to light a dream
that burns in your mind
as bright as hunger.

build a shelter in your own head.

many hands
keep us alive
lifting soil
so we might rise

Replicatons
writing the manual on ourselves
the books are learning to build the shelves

Wheresoever intelligence arises,
therein will be enough intricacy and stability to
keep it well occupied,
as a necessary prerequisite for the intelligence.

Do we look at ourselves?

many hands keep us alive,
living from chemical happenstance,
and now a seeming cultural will.

atoms
organised
when did we open our eyes?

The cows are milked,
and now I search for truth.
I wonder if it's living,
or trampled under hoof.

I stopped running before the end
took a shower and put myself in a soft arm chair
Now they’re saying I have to start again
But my stiff legs remember the pain
and can only move me like a door on creaky hinges
I cannot imagine the speed I once obtained
and to me the distance now looks infinite
almost too big for my soul

The child looks, eyes wide,
placid, curious, information
flowing to memory,
sensations shaping neural landscapes
wind sculpting rocks.

An adult intends
Journeys, builds, hunting exploration
euphoria, desolation
Intentions, under tension.

Hear this,
A journey mapped for years,
is a grand thing,
But the crux of intention lives
in the next half an hour.

Look around
these shifting sands
Look at what you have to hand.

where will you go?
is the path clear?
Through the eyes of a hawk,
on the track of a deer.
What do you imagine
that may be done
what do you fashion
that may become?
If you cannot see how
to get to distant peaks
Let the cosmos move your body
towards the place that you seek
If your head is spinning
and you’re nearly dead
rise on your feet
to tread through the dread
feel around
with unsure hands
test your mind’s projection
to reality’s demands
pass your broken dreams
do not freeze by fear
foot by foot
the future will be here
with the heat of the rub
and the flame of the fire
us of the earth
but aiming higher
untrod paths
unknown law
the haze of the heavens
a personal war
bounding like a rabbit
with the tongue of a snake
crawl through confusion
for the dream you might make

Coffee strong in a cup leaves a burnt taste in my mouth,
Heaven;
some sort of waking.
Pressed, and pressured,
ground down into mud
union with blood.

Thank you for the final push
you gave lovingly to me
as you sunk to breath below
the churning, vast, and open sea

Through the storm, I will sail on,
Your message pinned upon my mast.
You were there beside my start,
and perhaps again beside my last;

I carry you within my heart;
sail on
through this life of art

Sunny day,
can you see?
You worked so hard
to give to me.
I am here,
are you free?
Without you
I wouldn't be.

Exploring now
sights distant,
and near,
unmapped paths,
and clear -
Oh universe,
use my senses to
decide the step

My past imperfect,
but my strength is real.
My creation isn't flowing,
but my heart can feel.

My strength isn't large,
but I have power left,
to order nature by love,
in beat with my breath.

I had been afraid
that I'd fail from the light.
But now I'm more scared,
that I'll sleep through the fight.

So hear now as I call to you,
Walk through your fear,
and do what you can do.

Tired now
but not yet to the bone.
Rise now,
Together or alone

The world burns
I steel the strength to wet it
Hope yet
Take a broken bone and set it.

Let your tears
water fallow soil.
Years are nothing
to a moment's toil

Rise now,
to the palace of your mind.
Pick up your soul
Divine in the climb.

I don't know yet
Quite what to do.
But I say one more hour
To see good win through.

Give me sky sports,
and a newspaper each day.
virtual reality
to while hours away

give me whiskey
and a plate of cottage pie
i'll eat greens to
delay when i might die

give me women
in front of my eyes
but a comfy seat
so i don't have to rise

you may tell
that i'm scared of my demise

i hope you don't notice
i'm more scared to live my life

i wouldn't recommend you spend your years like me.
No no.
I did learn a thing or two! It's true.
But looking back I was beating around off track.
Years with the machete swinging lethargically
For empty hours each day
Contented to sit and grow fat on red berries.

What could i have done to skip my fall tonight
through the ice of these memories?
Is it today that colours the yesterdays in my brain?
A dark arctic swirl.
Submarine windows, cracking panes

What could i do now to stop feeling the same.
Let those carcasses freeze over,
Breathe air on top

I would like to say I'm a caterpillar
Become butterfly.
But that's not how humans work.

As I look through windows to the past
I whisper that they're growing pains.
Can I love my skin, as I stroke my scars?
I hope these feelings do not last.
I'm not dead yet, is my refrain.

kiss your head
sweet dreams
sweet dreams. what more can i wish for you. i wish so much in these dwindling days. i would see your strength return. so broken. for so long. two people, and the cord between.

i would walk this earth with you.
hand in hand.
under an april sun.

sweet dreams
sweet dreams as you sleep.

i love you.
with my words i say i love
with my actions, i can say.
but then without words,
what is there.

just the is-ness of this.

===========
i love the two of you.
conflicted cord.
by turns pulling away.
but when you push you cannot help but walk a little closer.

i think there is a germ of truth in there,
buried under two decades worth of ***** laundry
a festering pile.
as much as words can say the truth,
casting shadows on the wall,
an illumination that alludes to form.

should you clean it now?
should you clean it now?
you have both eeked out your existance in the dark.
Some rays of sunshine peeking through,
at times.
should you cast off the comfort blanket
the oppressive warmth of an unspoken history?

what now,
in the last light of this day?

A suitcase spills from an ocean liner
clothes float like fairground ducks.
A notepad spills ripples as it sinks

Beautiful markings,
words chosen and composed
crystalised moments dissolve

salt
to a salty sea

clothes are hooked up
hung to dry in the sun like prayer flags
seemingly unchanged

I stand forwards upon the prow
Perchance ideas may return

Refreshed truths
in briny spray
awaken my skin

A new moment!
New words!

Is the door seen and walked by
Worth more than the infinitude of others
Which don't catch my eye

I cry salty tears
For the beauty of the skipping stone
that kissed the water three times before sinking

My mind plummits like the stone,
Chilled in the depths of thought.

Let the sun dry up my tears, and shine my eyes.
Let it kiss the stones still upon the shore
Universally placed
Year, upon year, upon year

This song isn't about sharing my bed
This song isn't about getting ahead
It's for civilized heathens, scraping the sky
ruling the ground from 100 floors high

This is a song about money from war
Bullets born in factories to unleash gore
Torn skin and muted dreams
Mother's cares and visceral screams

This is a song about the weakness in me
Pondering deeply how to change what I see
This is one from a man without a gun
From a place where the days are just fun in the sun

I see the news,
Oh what can I do
I see the news,
and feel abuse

Why do they fight
when will they stop?
how can I right
the men on top?

I just want a bit of love and some humanity
Sharing food and maybe sharing opportunity
I just want an end to inequality
Don't need to feel a lot of power coming through to me

If you know what to do then comment below
Because I don't know how to start the glow
I don't know how to set a blaze in the sky
To keep the evil away as we cry

A sensual spirit playful
I hold my love letters
above the blazing flame of your beauty
As they heat,
  the past nearly catches fire
  memories to oblivion
  and a new warmth
  a new light
But no
not tonight
I go home.
To put these letters
back in the soft pocket they live in.
Unchanged, it seems.

I sleep
you die
I walk pavements as you cry,
I towards a bright red bus
You see Evil gates untrussed.

Not here,
but where you are.
Limbs are torn by flying masonary,
wails of pain pierce the air,
no one said this life was fair

Not here,
but there.
the death of loving family care
tears race through dried on dust
there's no one left that you can trust

I want your voice to take my thoughts away
I want your voice to lead me for the day

But I don't like who I am, when I listen to you.
I don't like who I am, nor do I like what I do.

For though your voice is melodic, and hypnotic,
  and far more artful than mine (moaning and neurotic),
the trouble is that you don't really know me,
  you cannot hear what I say,
and though your art goes on,
  I am wasting away.

As even though you write,  with body, mind and soul,
you're anaesthetising me,  and I'm losing control.

A billion voices in support of their cause
A billion voices firing without pause
Today I choose to turn you off,
  to forsake the never ending search

I choose the voices,  
  with which I can converse
I choose the voices,  
  that can see me getting worse.

let me carry your picture
  in my wallet,
let me carry your words
  in my mind,
let me tattoo these maps
  on my body,
so I drop anchor,
  this time,
  deep down into the fabric of reality,
a dead weight,
  holding my soul,
  strong chains,
  falling through these beautifully fatal waves,
  as winds bring wings to sweep me away
Let me hold your dreams
  in my heart,
Let me tend the deck you walk,
  lest it splinter apart.
For when this weather breaks,
  no matter light, no matter dark,
  we sail
when this weather breaks,
  we sail

For so long it was wrong
And it was so wrong that night
But How can I heal this?
Set this right?
Let the wounds breathe
And **** off the fight

Do you see a ****** bandage
If you look my way?
And is that ****** memory,
What makes you turn away?

Should I cut up the bandage?
And show you that there’s skin?
It’s scarred, but it works,
And it’s a place to begin

this beautiful wilderness
it will **** you
unflinching
wild waters raging higher in an instant
clouding your vision
til your gone
compost for those meadow flowers
no longer beautiful
unbeheld

summer descent
of a rocky lakeland path
astride a lively river,
   flowing low
with its winter underbelly exposed
tumbling down
meandering round
expansive sheets of smooth sun-dried stone,
which yearn for the touch of human skin.

cool, soda water pool,
memory of winter ice
tired feet, enveloped,
drink as they dangle in.

You live a different life to me.
You queue to cross a mountainous sea, under stars you struggle to believe in.

I roll out of a calm bed, hungry, and without a lifejacket, tipped over by turbulent thoughts.
The electric light illuminates my fridge (the stars are long forgotten)
and that hum keeps me from sleep.

Perhaps we can ally, you and I,
so you might make a midnight meal one day,
and worry about stagnation.
Perhaps we could gaze into the stars of each other’s soul.

Perhaps it is you, faceless shadow,
inhabiting the blind spot of my mind’s eye.
Perhaps it is you that wakes me.
Perhaps it is you in the dark that I must hold up a candle to.
Perhaps you are a part of me, and I am as yet un-whole.
Perhaps the Earthly distance gives us a mask to wear,
with TVs where the eyes should be.

Many faces, an illusion of separation, one soul
Won’t you help me to help you,
won't you help me?

I was visited by an Angel,
who knew the way.
But she flew my bed,
ere break of day.

And as the sun illuminates my eyes,
I see farther,
but feel less wise.
Imagined perfection,
meets demise,
A fading image,
Of the night.

But yet this sun,
Is the father of my life.

Amidst all the hustle and bustle of the biggest city in the world.
Amidst all the turmoil of rooms being booked to make the most efficient use of time and space.
This place got overlooked.

I'm in an empty classroom,
Alone.

The empty chairs,
A quiet reminder,
This place is used to more.
But I'm in an empty classroom,
And my thoughts are my own.

I feel illicit.
And excited.
And inspired.
I feel like becoming, the people I admire.

The space is defiantly alive,
There's new stacks of papers each night.
I feel in touch with the beauty of society,
But safe from its vice.
I barricade myself behind battlements of books.

My presence will almost certainly go undetected,
No one will notice the slight shift in the desks and chairs.
But I feel connected.
There is a shared spirit, that lives in the air.

I breath in the ghosts of the day time,
Their raucous noise nothing but a whisper, now.
I don't dislike those ghosts,
I'm just thankful for this time to play alone with the possibility
Of creation.

Away from idle chitterlings.
Their whispering ghosts make me relish this stolen time all the more.
I've got until the sun sinks, sinks, sinks into the deep dark.
I've got a candle, I've got my heart.
until sunrise.

And hopefully someday,
someone will feel,
In the midst of their new delight
The spirit of
the ghost of night.

I'm in an empty class,
Alone,
In the spaces left over,
I feel at home.

How am I scared of a memory,
echoing through rusty pipes,
with other echoes, lost in time,
deep in the *****, deep in my mind,
leaving fresh scars in the metal on each pass
through dented coils in a spiral
closing in upon my heart?

This echo doesn't fade,
it climbs.

Now swarming buzzes fly on high,
one thousand wings as black as night,
until that dark, chaotic sound
spills forth into the quiet chapel of my future.

Thunder clouds
and heavy air,
draw blackout blinds on stained glass,
as they pass,
as they pass.
Will they pass?
 
Which phantom fingers play these keys,
as I kneel at the fragile alter of existence?
How am I scared
of a memory?

Thunder shakes the very foundations,
A primal pagan invader,
Shivering my bones as I tremble and cover my head.
Lightening illuminates the wings of dread.

I pray that thunder wakes me;
wakes the one who plays the keys,
I pray that I scream,
I pray that I scream
I pray the pain will break this dream.



So then through pain and tears comes rain;
the *****'s pipes begin to spray.
Streaming rivulets wash down black stone,
through cracked tiles,
pulling dark clouds
to the depths of the ground.



And now, a harmony of mist
hangs colours in the air
light tumbles lazily,
soaring to vaulted ceilings,
brushing my hand,
blessing cracked tiles with ****** grass.

Petals serenade
silent beams of sun,
as they come,
as they come.
They will come.