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Sparrow Junk Jun 2017
Today we said farewell to the AstroCat
Who came from the stars
to leave us her memoirs
For she won't be coming back

Today the AstroCat put us in our place
In a universe that was farther
than the journeys we'd departure
There is more life than the human race

Today we announced the AstroCat's statue
With two-toned eyes always staring
at a world forever repairing
As we were taught to build anew

Today we remember the AstroCat
She left us with no return
but announced there was no concern
For we had learnt to save our habitat
Inspired by a t-shirt but became more about environmental concerns and the need for something major to shift things
Sparrow Junk Sep 2017
Coming back
Coming back without a grandstand
Coming back from the hinterland
Coming back as an old hand

I had cast myself aside
to focus on new graces
Instead placing myself
in permanent stasis

I had all these grand plans
and each one fell through
So now I stumble on back
down a crumbling avenue

Never knew which dream to follow
Never knew which pill to swallow
Now my words they ring so hollow
Now my passions no longer wallow

Coming back
Coming back to a humble home
Coming back to a field to roam
Coming back to find one's own

The sofa begins to mold
itself around my spine
As I lay and acting out
like it was all of mine

Not wanting to address
my failures or success
Claiming that it was all
just part of the process

Never knew what I should do
Never knew how to carry through
Now it happens out the blue
Now I need a new point of view

Coming back
Coming back to build myself
Coming back to repair my health
Coming back with the cards I dealt

Never knew I had it in me
Never knew if I could be happy
Now I skip the hyperbole
Now I give up emotional syncope

Coming back
Coming back to sing my song
Coming back from what was wrong
Coming back to live lifelong
I had taken a few weeks off due to a holiday, moving house and starting a new job, so of course imagined a story of someone coming home from failing their dream.
Sparrow Junk Jul 2017
The cracked screen is staring at me
Each line a show of mistakes
The black mirror has ruptured
And my armour inside breaks

From a centre, each hairline starts
As the fractures spill further out
They can't be brought back in
As my core fills with doubt

I've turned it into a metaphor
It's my own head to blame
But it still serves a reminder
Of my struggles, of my shame

The marks match my arms
The dent is in my head
I know I'll move past this
But I still feel like ****

I stare at the cracked screen
I will find the solution
I have dealt with worse before
I can be better than my delusion
Broke my phone, ended up being a reflection of other things
Sparrow Junk Jun 2017
Music brought me into this world
It only grew during childhood
To be something important to me
To hear voices who understood

The words they reach me
The words they teach me
The beats they fill me
The beats they thrill me

I think of all the people I've met
Only to be never seen again
We had bonded over talks of music
Getting excited by the hits of then

The rhythm it takes us
The rhythm it makes us
The melody it soothes us
The melody it moves us

I have the discs I have the tapes
I have the audio escapes
I have the files I have the streams
I have the digitalised dreams
I have the music
The music has me

I find that it's never enough now
Always trying to find the hidden gem
Finding the old hearing the new
Living my life by the rpm

The chants I will speak
The chants I will repeat
The encores we demand
Encore we want the band

I have the discs I have the tapes
I have the audio escapes
I have the files I have the streams
I have the digitalised dreams
I have the music
The music has me
Music has been a big part of my life, it was the desire to write lyrics that got me into writing. I thought it would be good to write a piece to show it.
Sparrow Junk Jul 2017
I spot the small things
The giraffe balloon
Floating by the window
of my bedroom
Where I brood on the day

I spot the small things
The souped up ride
Tearing past the street
The go faster stripes
breaking my concentration

I spot the small things
The washer of hotels
cleaning the distant windows
along the parallels
As I struggle to work

I spot the small things
The dead pixel on screen
Making the image
slightly unseen
On your update feed

I spot the small things
The name on your message
With a heart on the end
That day was a lesson
Not to blindly trust

I spot the small things
The couple in the corner
Kissing away secretly
I slowly mourn her
You're truly not mine

I spot the small things
The robin on the wall
Serving to remind
To be above it all
and be more than I am
I've been working on this one for a while, had the idea of how I seem to spot things in fleeting moments and wanted to tie in a story around it of a person's debating their suspicions of their lover. Think it works.
Sparrow Junk Jun 2017
My scars my relief
My alternative belief
Are not meant to
paint me as weak.
I struggle with words,
struggle to be heard
But talking about it
is never absurd.

My scars my relief
My alternative belief
Have made me consider
if life should be brief.
But I felt selfish
for making that wish,
So instead I continue
to try to exist.

My scars my relief
My alternative belief
Are reminders of a time
when I couldn't release.
I may have outgrown it
May never have shown it
But this is my lief
and I promise to own it.
Needless to say, this was born from a period during my younger days.
Sparrow Junk Jun 2017
Once again I must assess options
Put my workings up for auction
For despite my attempts of caution
I'm losing it all again

This working life keeps changing
This working life keeps breaking
This working life is unchanging
In the way that it keeps degrading

I feel guilty about the stealth
But really, I can do else
Brush my shoes and shine my belt
It's time to hunt again

This hunting life is relentless
This hunting life is offensive
This hunting life is intensive
It's enough to leave you senseless

I wonder maybe this is the one?
Now all my analysis is done
Do I get to stay with everyone?
Or will it start all again?

This working life is tiring
This working life is hiring
This working is inspiring
me to begin my retiring
I was recently made redundant for the fourth time in a role. Needless to say, it's exhausting
Sparrow Junk Jul 2017
Stranded without a line
to pull me back in time
Blinking through snowblind
to try and see a sign

As I stumble through the snow
Where loose footings follow
With my panic held in tow
I cry out my tears of woe

I survived the fall down
Tumbling along the ground
I don't know if I'll be found
This far away from town

Taking shelter in the trees
Away from the piercing breeze
Fashioning my broken skis
To take the weight off my knees

I'm scared that I'll hear a howl
Of a creature most foul
Hiding teeth atop its jowl
As it seeks me on its prowl

Or does something else await?
A slow and more frozen fate
Now that the day turns late
The cold night does not wait

I push the thoughts from existence
For I must be persistent
Or else be gone in an instance
Oh, what is that in the distance?

I was at the end of my tether
As I breathed the brutal aether
But I was found in the weather
And now we're back together
I've not tried to tell a story of this nature so thought it would be interesting to tell a story of someone trying to find their way back in a blizzard in this format
Sparrow Junk Jul 2017
I feel my words haven't rung true from the start
Because crucially
The reality
is I was never that good to begin with

I only wanted to make some light out of this dark
But the emotion is
A bloatedness
Of my own self-inflated ego and pride

I could never call this as an attempt at art
Nor should others
There are greater wonders
By those who can truly inspire

But still, I try to play my own small part
In this scene
Against philistines
To fail is never a reason to retire
The main thing for anyone trying to make their way in a creative pursuit is to not let failure or pride be a barrier to keep trying. Take inspiration from others and try to make it your own.
Sparrow Junk Jun 2017
A man was standing at the pier's edge
No intention of stepping forward but he wasn't going to step back
His gaze transfixed on the water, his feet hovering their border
He wasn't looking to swim, not with that long coat in black

I approached him cautiously
As I didn't wish to alarm him or startle him into falling down
I knew that he must have a story, one willing to be heard
And I was willing to be an audience, to be someone around

He turned and spoke to me
Please, step no further, this must be my decision to make
I appreciate your concern but if there is one thing I've learnt
is that good intentions of others make promises easy to break

I stopped and he then continued
Thank you, I appreciate it and I suppose an explanation is due
I may not have had the worst of lives but nor have I had the best
But I did have a long life, which is more than others will get

He turned to face me
His coat was flailing in the wind and underneath he wore a suit
It was well worn but not shabby and his shoes needed a shine
But he was ordinary as if this walk was part of his commute

Smiling he told me
I know, I know, it's not what you expected when you saw me
I haven't just lost my job, it's not that kind of simple story
I just woke up and wondered if this was all there is to reality

I've had my highs and I've had my lows
Nothing different to what everyone knows, but that led me here
If nothing new is to come, am I happy to stop with all I've had
Or shall I keep going and just see what will appear

He asked me to leave after that
I protested but I understood it was his choice to make alone
I reluctantly turned and slowly walked further and further away
I wondered if I would even hear if his soul would part the waves
I hadn't fleshed out the idea for this one until I started writing, I knew I had this picture of a man standing with one one step all that was between him, the water, and the safety of the pier. Ended up being a take of what it takes for some people to stay on.
Sparrow Junk Aug 2017
The radio's not what it used to be
With its wealth based in virtuality
Calling out to the youthful dream
Which is never quite as it seems

The radio no longer plays what's mine
As my popular taste has faded in time
I stopped singing along to the tunes
They stopped making my afternoons

The radio is nothing but melodic static
I'm aware that sounds a little dramatic
But I can't relate to these digital trends
No more playlists, I want show host friends

The radio's batteries died long ago
I'll replace them one day I suppose
When the songs I like will play
As part of a classic aural wave
The expectations of radio have shifted so much, especially in the face of the playlist trend which someone I know claims has ruined his working commute. Tried to capture that feeling in this piece
Sparrow Junk Jun 2017
I came across a tree stump
Upon I placed my sorrow
Hoping that it would grow
back as a weeping willow

Wanting for it to hold snow again
Descending from its head to mine
To feel the cold down my spine
A gift from the tree's branch line

But this stump is all that's left
Of a tree that once stood tall
from before I learnt to crawl
I am saddened to see it fall

I feel the rage of ocean storms
Bubbling inside of my chest
Now with nowhere that I can rest
Cursing the stump as all that's left

But amongst this frozen ground
I spot a sapling making its way
And I knew that there'd be a day
When things would become okay
I can't help but feel saddened when I see trees cut down, especially when it seems like it's been done for cosmetic reasons rather than it becoming ill or anything. I never know what to do after as the stump won't grow again but planting more trees seems like a good start
Sparrow Junk Feb 2018
I felt justified in my actions at the time
But you gave a look telling I crossed a line
From then on things haven't been the same
You give me looks of such fiery disdain

I remember stumbling about in the dark
I woke up alone in lover's park
You weren't there and I probably should've cared
But given my actions I thought it was fair

This love isn't what it was
I know, I know I'm the cause
But dear you know it's only because
No one taught me better

This love is on ice and it's melting away
Every day the anger boils to rage
There was a time we could fix up the cracks
But now we don't know if we want to go back

We go to the bar and put people at unease
It's never too long before they start to leave
We bicker and shout hang our ***** laundry out
Not even sure what we're arguing about

This love's not going to last
Clearly we dived deep too fast
But so much time has already passed
That we don't know how to end

My dear I would love to leave you
But I can't stay alone
And I'm sorry about what you found
That time you looked at my phone
From then we spiralled down
Arguing late on the road paved
with our hate before the car became
our coffin in the water's grave

Now we're left together in our own private hell
But what happens apart we never could tell
So we stay with the anger, stay with the hate
In the hope that it will eventually abate

This love is all we have left
My dear I did my very best
But getting to feel your breath
Keeps me from a worse fate
Sparrow Junk Jun 2017
This stagnant pond refuses to change
It won't even acknowledge the rain
Painting itself as full of lush life
Whilst ignoring the constant strife

"I am my own system" it cries
"I won't care when the river dries"
Forgetting, of course, it's own role
In making the water continually flow

In this age of inflated identity
It's lost the collective amenity
Standing alone amongst the crowd
Singular voices don't ring so loud

This stagnant pond refuses to accept
That the way it acts is incorrect
"It's not me it's them" it blames
Losing the help that it shames

One day this pond will dry up
Leaving little left in the muck
Whereas other ponds form a lake
Giving for the collective's sake
This one was inspired after listening to an Adam Curtis interview where he talked about individualism versus collectivism which made for an interesting discussion
Sparrow Junk Feb 2018
I let it all out into the corner
I shout every word out at me
Can't take it any farther
Need a dead end to let it be

Now I can't
Be spending my days this way
So I must
Find a new way to get paid
Now I can't
Be simply walking away
But I trust
I won't be kept like a slave

This was written with my head on the table
Once again I'm feeling unstable
I found inspiration away from the public
Where I hide like a suspect

Words from on high to continue
Through the anger rising
There's always another issue
It's all so demoralising

Now I can't
Be spending my days this way
So I must
Find a new way to get paid
Now I can't
Be simply walking away
But I trust
I won't be kept like a slave

The things I do to make it through the day
Is more than I am willing to say
Worker #23 reporting for duty
I will break in the newbie

Another ten years spent here
I keep talking my life away
There's nothing more to endear
It will end never or today

Now I can't
Be spending my days this way
So I must
Find a new way to get paid
Now I can't
Be simply walking away
But I trust
I won't be kept like a slave
A piece about trying to quit the grueling menial job and do what you want to do

— The End —