A fable you follow to re-define
you're just a drifting journey
Shifting as time reminds
The speed you want to observe
It's easy to swerve, rewind
and reminisce in the bliss
Stung with the force of a fist
Too naïve to privileges
Vows we've stained with sacrilege
Promises pained with a phantom kiss
Whispers of locked lands, levitation and foraging
Moonlight sour with forgiveness
investigations to find our minds myths

Trapped in an internal orchestra meditation
That binds us to the trees
Like you're tied to the sound of the sea
A separate generation
Entwined on the same path to be free
Triumph in a ship that sets course to breathe
Leaving better ways to make history

Crucial cemeteries of virtual memories
An abominable sorrow
The cockles of cuckoos fools food tomorrow
Hestia's restless with reckoning
Following fables less
Suppressed by the mess of her head
Following nonsense yet to be said
Follow the scent of juniper to bed
Burnt out fireplaces
Save your graces
for fables that subdue you to death

Home is an old red rucksack that my mother took round Chile
filled with my baggiest trackies for months
where home is trains and tubes and my headphones on coaches
Home is the rain when it batters the outside of a humble caravan
Home is a little wood burner, and a long green coat that was gifted unintentionally
and worn by many

Home is waiting for the triangle bus
Home is a cup of coffee in the right shaped mug
Home is a cigarette, shared with my sister in a pub
Home is our brother owning the pool table, modest and silent
Home is now the sea, but not in summer
mid-November waves, rough and lonely

Home is the river, the flow and the feeling
the fish and the constellations of a shared celling
Home is mums’ casserole and fresh bread still warm but under proved
Home is a shed, strangled with ivy
Home is tea and malt milk biscuits
Home is magic stars pasta beans and cheese and Netflix
Home is my duvet
Home is crumbs creeping into a lumpy mattress

Home is the day, lazy and underwhelming
Home is grandmas own tomatoes
Home is a laugh from an inside joke
Home is her long red hair, her stumbles and soup
Home is hazel eyes singing, by light from candles in old gin bottles

Home is a spoons breakfast with zero sleep
Home is a sink full of washing up
Home is cobwebs and a faded hoodie stained with paint and the smell of hash
Home is sharpened knife that can nicely slice when I am cooking to the bass my mini rig creates

Home is in the woods a maze of plot twists
mapped in childhoods haze of coordinates
Home holds smiles from guests and strangers who become family
Home is vats of marmalade, in sticky jars that collect dust they sit for so long
Home is the chorus of a Finley Quay song
Home is the journey I am on

Home is the field
the mud when its ripe beneath my toes
the grass worn with love
Home is a guitar (sandy with stickers)
I am home in her lyrics that swirl through the air
captivate by this Home we created
and our feet know the pattens of the beat
Home is the taste of freshly smashed melon
Home is a cluster of tents around a fire
and a tarp of scribbles

Home is the purr of Roo
Her velvet fur and trills of love
Home is an overgrown garden I used to tend to
Home is holly leaves transformed into wishes
Home is memories of butterfly kisses
Home is a hug when words aren't needed
Home is where I'm not alone

Home is him, the smell of his car and comfort of his arms
Home is his orange overalls
Home is a rhetorical question when I’m looking at his face

Poetry, a synchronised outburst of the mind

What hides in your dreams?
Rancid creatures that creep unseen
Holding the dice to your emotions
The keys that keep you quarantined

The demons have the strings
They call you to the void
You dodge with sinful distractions
Causing catastrophic reactions

Is reality intact?

Plummet into mindless thoughts
That are seamlessly absorbed
A summit of corrupted feelings
That cannot be fought

Aggression tumbles rapidly
Hatred cramps the untrained brain
Spasms that remind you daily
The easy way to escape the pain

What a sweet delight
The idea of suicide
Swift souls taking flight
Finding solace in their own demise

sensations under a primary sun spread through generations
wax drips like sweat on to sweat dripping like rain that clings to our canvas shield
the daybreak smiles as it dries the dewed tarps
At fuzzy minds
That refuse to yield
immersed in enchantment
And Scuzzy with field
ears catching natter spewed as clatter builds
the happy daze that sweeps reality away,
anxieties at bay
primary sun rises above another day
to be blurred into every colour created and yet to exist
sigh to witness the mornings mist
hung to frame this picture of bliss
I try to resist
I grasp to the sounds and movements of the night
Knowing sleep will separate me
Till they are pickled pages of a story I'll half tell
amongst the days of this week that seep together
We seek the fantasy of this forever
Where we are home in the lyrics that swirl through the air
And our feet know the patterns of the beat
Our emotions howl as my feelings digest
a jumble of potions and poisons
and unfinished sentences
I need to rest
but now it is the present
reality is tearing at the seams
dance myself to bed
as the day begins

Little bug whispers
sweet dreams in my ears
As we crawl towards oblivion
moonshine and make believe
Nonsense echoes around my skull  pyjama parties
Suddenly we're in our twenties
Substances and sandwiches
We slumber in our
Gigantic wigwams
Battered old vans
More human that I was before or am I even human anymore?

I sit alone, in a circle
on the soft green carpet of the world
i feel safe
my eyes so dry i shield them
sun fast fading in the sky
my nose crusted rusted shut from the inside
i cry
the wet salt fills my barren pupils
sadness an oasis for my sight to swim through
my breath raspy and raw
throat sharded with sniffs full of backdrip
lungs swollen from heavy tokes on spliff
its tugging me back to reality
i feel defeated and completed
still i want more
and endless sesh of happiness
a party of all of those i adore
my head hits the floor
tomorrow my ceiling will not be the sky
i will not have drugs to help me fly
the hardest part is always goodbye

i hope your shade of smallworld blues is a nice shade
the clouds always seems grey
when summer slips away
the world beneath mirrors it
confidence depleted
hearts defeated
it all feels synthetic
no one sympathetic
my serotonin trapped in
flashbacks of myself, energetic
surrounded by the swish of everyone dazzled up swimming through the same rhythm
primary sun holds us all as children
bodies of movement glittered with sweat
feathered with freedom
shedding regrets
we form circles shapes
and sparkled squiggles
we feel eternal
suppressed only by giggles
we colour skies
we paint our skin
we dance on highs
with solidified grins
im only 9 months away
i cannot give in

Every moment we cherished
Sweet seconds divine where
I am home in her lyrics that melt in the air
My feet bare and bruised with a good time, and the memories I don't want to fade
August runs out so I daydream of May
Throughout the winter we may grow apart
but at the first peep of spring
We know what starts
Studded with those darker sins
We reach out as the festival begins
We forget our troubles and our pain
To cuddle beneath our primary sun again