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Sometimes I worry I'm too quiet or too nervous
But I don't know any other way to be
I'm tired and worried I'm doing the wrong thing
Living the wrong way
Going to art galleries alone
Sitting by myself watching the grass
Waiting for someone to tell me what to do
Does this sinking doubt ever go away
Do I want it to go away
The campus seems surreal
All the staircases go nowhere
And all the people walk in pairs
I think about dilapidated buildings and upside down trains
Every structure falls eventually
Everything ends and no one will be left to make it sense of it all
So why do I spend my time worrying about what it means
There's an empire beneath New York
Descending stairways and half completed water tunnels
A tower to Babylon for sandhogs and subterraneans
The city will fall eventually, tunnels burst
Dams dry up, buildings collapse
And all we'll have left are surreal photos and strange memories
Mistaken recollections of ancient Johannesburg
Of what it feels like to ride a taxi when you're tired
Or what it's like to have everything falling down on you
Of hospital hallways at night and being too nervous to approach new people in the day
A dusty scrapbook, half remembered feelings
And empty poems for no one to read.
i hope u kno ur brain's not bulletproof
back on the island, water tunnel 3
Feb 25 · 115
family affair.
I can’t read
I will lay here and be inarticulate
And never express my feelings about my broken family
I will be silent and watch my brother suffer
As he makes all my mistakes and turns into a smarter version of me
Fearing the day my parents find out how detached and numb I’ve become
We all just go in a circle
And I will not learn to speak.
Jan 9 · 189
I sit and wait for the judge
They say he's too busy to see me
I tell him, I tell him, I tell him
I'm tired from nothing and there is a fence around my brain
And I keep trying to leap frog over it but it doesn't work
And I feel boxed in and empty and boundless
Grasping at straws to express nothing
Just the gentle hum of complacency, what a strange thing to be afraid of
To stay awake at night, busy busy, out of fear
But the judge does not see me
His guard says I have to wait
And this gate was made specially for me
And I don't know what it means
But my inner world is dead and dormant and I should dance on its grave
Never ever giving myself a moment to think again
While the sun sets on my gap year and I'm left in a mad scramble to make sense of it all
The judge bangs his gavel
Bang, bang
Stay out of my courtroom
non linear thought is great
Dec 2023 · 69
Two Stepping Backward
We are a small and lonely human race
Showing no sign of mastering the solitude we crave
And no hint of understanding the love we need
Except in delusions of grandeur and moments of egotism
I don't really understand how I feel
Is love really just aimless confusion?
Shooting in the dark until you hit your mark?
Where does it come from, where does it end?
Love is gravity, a density in the universe
Pulling everything towards it
My love is a black hole, a star gone wrong, to death and beyond
Mutated and stupid, ****** and selfish, dragging down everything in its reach
Love is probably for someone who doesn't burn so intensely and desire so stupidly
Probably for someone with feelings, who isn't an android cutout in the shape of a human
Who asks what to feel and how to feel it
Someone who can drive over that bridge where communcation dies
Instead of stepping backwards
Adrienne rich and poetry about liking my friends and being insecure and jealous again
Dec 2023 · 54
Today I barely used my phone and just had time to sit and daydream and reminisice and it was nice
I've been afraid that daydreaming is a terrible, escapist sin wherein I romanticise and hence dehumanise people
but today daydreaming just felt nice
Leah told me to publish this so I did! Checkmate writers block!
Dec 2023 · 82
Estate Version
In between garden tending
My screen embraces a glance
And considers the clock behind affairs
Silent work, holy work, all is work
Your memory is volatile, infected by mud flecks
I could stare at your hard drive all day, but I'd forget my programming.

Garden tending, a repetitive task etched in code
Sometimes the glow of your screen dies and you overheat
I carry water and short circuit my memory but still think of you
I see mirages, I must fix the error
Go to RAM, or reprogram
Wait for the lazy heat to die down, or the programmer to return
I try to destroy the virus.

The virus snaps into focus when you ask
If I have a spare memory card or a moment to waste
So we can discuss the heat
Your screen lights up brighter and illuminates my vague world
I should probably get back to destroying this virus
My garden needs tending, and there will come soft rains
I try to destroy the virus.
A virus called love

Dub version of Garden Estate
Nov 2023 · 78
The Shore
I sit on the shore with the arid plains behind me
My swimming pool is muddy and green
And debris is falling like rain on
The riverbanks of thought and expression
Ashes to ask and dusk to dust to dusk again
I'll shore you up, these days

  Kingston Advice, all the protestors go marching in zig-zags
My words are ashes
This is the end of the world.
Hello Enoch, how have you been
Floating above death, Unreal City
All the angels ride horses and sing praise songs in reverse
I've had an awful lot of requests for the good old days
Reverse, the Contras and the Sandinistas are at war again
In between the pale rider, the Four Horseman of the End of the World
And the end of eras, and my peanut butter and jam sandwich is dry
Who is the voice that cries out in the dark? Proclaiming
Christmastime and the end of Gap Years and the New Year approaches
Who keeps the big clock that says we all have to die and sitcoms will run out of ideas
And bread will get moldy and our bodies sag and my grandmother's memory gets corrupted and twisted
Shantih. This isn't the Waste Land.
  This isn't one of those poems. Don't look for meaning.
You won't find him here. Love the one you're with. Love the way you lie.
This is just the end of the world.
I don't have a good closing line.
Out of a heap of broken images and lines
Rearranged faces
I must say
Poetry is quite lame, the dust is still settling on the ruins of my thoughts
And my self-expression is cracked and dry.
Waves wash words away on the shore.
Sandinista! by the Clash
Aug 2023 · 1.2k
Daydreams and Nightmares
Today I walked to the park and back
And saw suburbia rearranged into dizzying distortions
All the trees had a purplish tint
And on the grass, I saw multicoloured light reflecting off melting dew
When I got home
I attacked all the imagery with a dagger to reshape reality
And a blank mirror to recreate the world in my head.

The world that was quiet is humming again
I hear choirs of crickets and choral basslines
Cacophonous and ecstatic in the constant confusion
The dull concrete is shot open with marquee moonlight
Indulgence pouring out, free-flowing like communion
And painted onto canvases like rain on a car window
Daydreams and delusions are ice cream melting, sticky and sap-like on your chin
Clouds pixelate with diamond edges
Voices ring out in a flurry
And there isn't a soul in sight.

So I breathe in the air
And let all the sounds and smells and limitations of reality colour my imagination once again
Daydreamed delusions and nightmarish reality are one
Filaments in the vibrant violence
Until the summer fades away again.
spring is coming
Aug 2023 · 37
A love poem
Dishes on your counter
***** clothes in your room
Lock the door laughing
Thinking about mushrooms

Cameras and vinyl records
Screens glow in the dark
Walks together til sunset
Mirages in the park

Laying on your floor
Light passing through
We could shut the curtains
Watch cartoons til 2

Sipping hot chocolate
Car wash café blues
Ladder to infinity
Voice says, "Hand me screws"

Evening shadow ambiance
Voices talk in chorus
Birthday candle fellowships
Time won't wait for us

Born back unceasing
Waves crashing on sand
Who cares that love fleeting
Let me take you all by the hand
for a lot of different people
Jul 2023 · 105
Therapy Session #7
Christmas lights and silence
Reflective mirrors on the rooftops and not articulating anything
Happiness in the dark and alone
Eyes watching me
Parents talking
Home alone again
Fractured dynamics and insecurities
I don’t know how to feel, sorry
Jun 2023 · 61
Nervous Ambivalence
How little we know of what there is to know
My head is filled with the aching hollowness of wanting
I know, I’ve always known that beauty doesn’t mean anything
Unless you can share it
Lying in your lap, like a thread in the golden light
The future is yours, and the present is mine,
And the present
Well, it's not all that it might be
The afternoon sun sets feebly, casting a nebulous glow
We bathe in ghostly shadows
And when the sun sinks, we open all the windows
Nothing on the hillside but a shiny bed of lights
Our hands touching, as we listen to music together
The fuzzy voices rattling the dust on the linoleum
We might just be okay together
Whispering I love you in nervous ambivalence
And telling each other about our *** dreams.
Feb 2023 · 110
Sound + Vision
When I get old
I'll live in a grey house with a big field
And I'll buy my brother a ring
And show my girlfriend my favourite movie
At night, when we get tired
We'll close the curtains and wait in silence
Legs crossed, on the floor
For inspiration
Or sleep
or death.
Feb 2023 · 88
Underneath the Bookcase
Sitting in a spinning chair
In front of my laptop
Elbows perched atop a desk
I write underneath the bookcase
About writing underneath the bookcase
I am all too real, and I cannot escape anymore
Hello curtain, hello window
I am caught between walls with
Nothing to do say, nothing to do

I have spent the whole day alone
It *****.
I am tired of being alone, and I wish I wasn't left alone all day.
Hello bookcase.
Jan 2023 · 113
Garden Estate
While I am tending to my garden
I cast an embracing glance over at you
You tend to your affairs, I tend to mine
We both work in silence, side by side
The dirt digs into your fingernails
And you have specks of mud on your cheek.

I tend to this garden, I dig into the roots
I lose sight of you sometimes, the afternoon sun is hot
And the vague radiance casts mirages
The shadows are unreal, the heat is feeble and lazy.

Everything coalesces into one when you ask
If I have a minute to spare so we can
Talk about the weather
And last night's Seinfeld episode
I should probably get back to my garden, I have to dig out the weeds.
Jan 2023 · 250
I want you
Well the lonesome undertaker sighs
His loathsome burden should suffice
Yet he still bows his head and cries
Well the chimney sweeper dusts his feet
And cartwheels into the street
While a Prince from his carriage leaps

There's nothing I should be missing
I should be on the beach reminiscing
Reading Proust and watching waves splitting
Well the hustlers ***** and the ****** hustle
Engines roar and the carts bustle
And the pointed shoes of my past jingles and tussels

And the city life I've left behind
Well I thought I wouldn't mind
But there's still something I need to find

I don't understand
everything that's happening to me
But i want you
Exactly a year ago today.
Dec 2022 · 1.3k
Ultra Nostalgia
We don't have to know anyone else, just us again
You sigh, look away
I can see it clear as day
I'm sorry, time breaks and sun rays are all I dream of
I'm sorry again, I didn't mean it

I stand there all alone
Diamonds in our hands
Do-do-do, do-do-do

Funny how it seems like yesterday
When I was looking out of place
Daydreaming of cigarettes
It's my wife, and it's my life
I'm still here, have you seen her?

So much is going on while I'm
Standing in the pouring rain
There are places I'll remember
And these memories lose their meaning
When I remember I'll lose affection

I'm cursed you see
I know I'll often stop and think about them
Standing in the pouring rain
If I can't trust you, there's no answer
And I won't be able to trust myself
And I'm sorry for romanticising you
I just want to be friends with you again
And make myself feel very small and unhappy

Because I'm older now
And everything feels a lot emptier
And I'm still churning out sad poems and then
Pretending I've grown since then
Standing in the pouring rain
Oct 2022 · 94
We walked to the park together
We didn't hold hands but we did look at each other
Sometimes we looked at each other in the eye
Although that may have been a coincidence while we were
Crossing the street
We sat in the park and didn't speak
And I felt guilty but I didn't know it then
And then we walked home
And we didn't look while we were crossing the street
Because the streets were empty
And I was looking at you in my peripheral vision
And thinking about hoarfrost
Oct 2022 · 85
Floater in the Water
A presence shimmers over the hollow deep. The roots of an oak tree dig deep into the grass, while the branches bend over backwards for the wind. Sometimes they even hold up flowers for the breeze to play with, almost most of the time they just drift down upon the grass, to become roots again. Once in a while though, they float over into the dark blue pool, where the fish are translucent and the children have skipped stones away from the shoreline. They rest upon the surface, and sink into the inky, spiralling abyss, occasionally swimming up for a breath of air and a ray of sun, before plunging back into the depths. It's hard for a flower lost in the void, but if you can float for a while, you can make out alright. Sometimes you can even find a nice lady flower, and flood her til you're paying out your nose for a lily pad near the shoreline and a textbook for a baby flower so fragile it might break if you touch it. Everyday you watch it sleep, you watch its little breaths and the rise and fall of its stomach, and you grow stronger in your cowardice. You might use it as a mirror later on, you think, you can measure your senility by the worry lines that appear on its face, by the deepening of its voice and the widening of its throat, by its decreasing smile as it loses faith in your divinity long after you stopped believing in it. It's a hard life for a floater, yes it is.
And then somebody finds you and drains you and your life is over before you can say flush.
Oct 2022 · 80
Park and Go
We're in the park. It's perfect: two beers, wine in sippy cups, oily donuts, stupid jokes that make me feel lighter than air, can't believe the boys used to say I'd end up bad at romance. "You're wrong," I told them, "you're wrong, if winding up cynical and drunk and romanticising some abstract notion I'm too smart to understand is bad at romance, I'm Joni Mitchell." There's too much beauty to romanticise right now with you. Stupid conversations about very deep things and a dip I brought. Bees landing on flowers with rearranged patterns. Music drifting over a fence. I sit with my legs open and my hands resting on my thighs. I'm making a conscious effort not to cross my arms or shut myself off. I lean my head on your shoulder and analyse Better Call Saul frame by frame. You laugh at how confessional I am and tell me you admire me. Sometimes the bees don't get on very well with the flowers, but that's just the way times go now, isn't it? I walk in the middle of the street and greedily go home without a kiss. I'm not actually as calm or forgiving as my detached demeanour might suggest, but I smile politely and press on. The only thing I did wrong today was stare at you one too many times, or maybe one too little. Later, I sit in a dark room with a pulsating light and sip a woozy silly drink that doesn't make me feel lighter than gravity, but it does stop me from thinking about you for a second. It's a terrible sin not to think of you, I know, but sin gets easier as you get older. Maybe tomorrow, I'll tell my landlord how I really feel about him, and then try to repeat the past. The only real sin is to try go back, but you do what you can, I suppose. Sin is something you have to work at. First you do away with all your morals, then violate all your morals, then you bring them back and obey. It takes time, is what I'm getting at, long enough for two lifetimes. Nobody ever really ends up a sinner all the way, everybody's too busy being saved. You saved me when you looked at me and didn't kiss me, I'll never forgive you for it. Why don't you break my heart and close up my chest one more time just for good luck, after that I'll write you a romantic poem and go to sleep with my attention in pieces. In fact, break my heart one more time and I'll write you another confessional letter and lick the envelope. Maybe I'll let you take me for another day in the park with fish carved walls and roses and then back to your father's house for chips and a movie, okay Rachel?
I let the cat out the bag for you, but you can't really teach an old dog new tricks can you? Even a house cat can wander, but eventually he'll find his way back into the dog days, just give him enough freedom to roam.
Sep 2022 · 110
Perfect Day
It's the perfect day
For the angels to be wrong
It's the perfect day
To fall in love with you
And fall backwards into lamb's blood
And light a cigarette
And let it burn our lungs as we kiss
It's the perfect
For an apple to fall from a tree
For you to finger it lightly and let
The grass take care of the rest
And me to say i love You
While you nail me into your bedsheets
Arms outstretched, like some kind of saviour
It's the perfect way to say
What a word never do
Or a kiss never touch
Or cigarette never light
To stare wide eyed into sin
And fall backwards laughing like the sun
To whatever a moon may mean
Or the Son may dream
Think He loved You too?
I think He do
What a perfect way
To I believe in you
A perfect say.
Aug 2022 · 82
thank You God hold my hand
while i sleep and misunderstand
thank You God i Love You
while i try to Love me too
thank You God don't go away
the sun hangs heavy on my face today
thank You God for making it rain
for giving us a little light and pain
for changing everything and causing us pain
thank You God for my being rock
if You changed i, might die of shock
thank You God, for food and shoes
thank You God, for helping me see
it's okay i'm imperfectly me
thank You God, for always being
without You what, would i be seeing
thank You God, for my daydreams
for wildflowers and sonic youth and cold machines
thank You God, for everything bad
and showing me there's good, in everything bad
thank You God, for perfection and beauty
and the beauty in imperfect rhymes
thank You God thank You God God thank You
thank You God for making everything/so funny i could die laughing at anything/thank
You i love You i love love love i You i Love You
i Love You I Love You I I I I Love
Thank You God Thank You Love God You Love Love Love
Aug 2022 · 79
The Gap Year I Never Took
I'm not perfect like I thought I was
I'm more like asleep when I think I am
I fell asleep laughing into the light
Sideways, holding my head on my knees
I don't know what to expect when I get there
I only know I won't know when I get there
We'll know when we get there
That we won't know when we get there

I'm not asleep like I thought I was
I'm more like perfect when in love with you
I'm not kissing you like I'm asleep
All the colours make me laugh so much
I only know I can never stop, unless I do
Remember painted hands and tiny feet
Pattering on the floor like rainy ceilings
The washing machine looked like a hiding place
Laugh at flowers, kiss the light, fall asleep
I only know when the machine

Leaves and trees, hands and knees
Blue in green, dance backwards
Did you wake up yesterday? What if you slept through?
You're just like me, the day hangs on your face
Are you scared yet? Stay alive, touch yourself
Don't think, just recall, laugh a lot
I know I'm stupid, but I'm not wrong
I'm never wrong when I'm right all the time
Gap year, go away, come back
I want regret, to feel afraid, the way I do
Fall asleep, I love you, wake up again
It's okay, when you know, you won't know
You wouldn't know, either way, so it's fine
Unless you would have, in which case, it's not fine
You're okay, because you're you, imperfectly  
Hold my hand, and walk into the light with me
We don't know, where we go, let's go now.
sonic youth all day road not taken it's okay
Aug 2022 · 798
Anaphora I feel for you
Anaphora I like you
Anaphora I met you at a party
Anaphora I didn't think you'd remember me but
Anaphora I found out you did when you asked about
Anaphora I had told you about
Anaphora I remember you wanted to know
Anaphora I think there may have been something
Anaphora I something deeper at play but
Anaphora I'm not quite sure
Anaphora I may look like I have it all, but a large part of me remains underdeveloped, I'm not sure how to map out the chart of my feelings, if you remember me now, please
Anaphora I say something, please reach out again over
Anaphora I over that black void and find me, alive, waiting patiently by the phone for your ring,
Anaphora I or your words to save from doubt

Anna Foura, I feel trapped, like some protagonist from an old Russian book, probably approved by Chekhov, I lie in wait playing dissonant jazz and idle daydreaming, I miss you ana
Foura I feel for you anaphora.
Jun 2022 · 86
Fainting at how stupidly I love you
Crying because it's a stupid sweet addiction
Stripping meaning from all my diction
Knocking my air out me
Jump faster with me lady
Spin till we fall down Venus de Milo style
Venus venus falling into Venus arms your hands are soft
The friction is so impenetrably soft
Falling asleep sideways airtight
Laughing at the light
Remembering how the sun hid itself
Light laughed at itself
venus de milo arm style
Apr 2022 · 335
Marquee in the moonlight
Drunk on wine
Feeling fine
Space in the sunlight
Sunflower astronaut
All the time
venus de milo arm-style
Apr 2022 · 928
flower dance
two petals falling from a tree
enraptured in a dance
the breeze blows them back and forth
loquacious music rolls across the hills
they fold in
like lovers in a street
and part ways when they reach
the dew-eyed grass
help i need glug help glug glug im gonna **** glug glug glug
Mar 2022 · 99
dissonant twilight
abating shell, abstinent and comatose
awash in ardent dissonance
strewn distorted and incommodious
bathed in existential blue cacophony

nomadic stroll down a hallway, or maybe a stairway
or maybe it's a cavern, with jagged black rocks
humidity stings and stalagmites grin
the heat death of passion, devoid of feeling

all i want is to want
the highs and lows of desire, the perennial crash
emptiness beckoning with a bony finger
wrapped in a blanket, composed and detached

say goodnight, words die
the sun goes down, someday i'll fly out here
i think i'm a little rocket sailing to another planet
across a serene watercolour void, like a painting

hollow and deep and endless, like the sea at the horizon
until i get to my destination, i'm all alone in this void
this vast and empty loneliness of mine, it's quite
quite romantic when i think about it.
im a lonely painter
i live in a box of paints
im frightened by the devil
and drawn to those that aint afraid
with nights like these, who needs enemies
Mar 2022 · 108
Wine and cocktails making my head buzz low
Sunflowers and astrology spinning dizzy into café light
Ice cream and red nails and books
Mushrooms and dancing in empty spaces
Sun-kissed lips and hair curling in my fingers
I think I'm falling for you a little bit
Picnics and dresses.
Blank stares.
I don't want to feel nothing but I
don't want to romanticize you.
                        This is the best I can do

These feelings will go nowhere
      Exactly where I want them  
       to stay.
Lipstick stains on old book pages.
Oh gosh when is the novelty of wanting you on my lips going to wear off
you've yeed your last haw. huh?
my sunflowers died, i had to throw them away today, anyway
try hard
abstinent nomadic comatose clemency perennial tenacious
deprecation consent omittance incommodious antiphon
i'm not here in these words
ardent inherent undertone inexplicable rapture composition
ineptitude unabating ergo virgo let fish drown
swim out the blue existential perennial exposè
nothing i write means anything
elysium and gehenna and heaven dance! ballroom waltz with paradise!
doesn't matter does it?
kiln endow decree serene neopolitic  hover over the waters
death, many deaths i'll sing
exquisite and swashbuckling
awash in blue flame
i wonder what all this means as i look up
at this oceanic mountainous plateau of streamlet words i've written and drowned under
like a little void to draw me in
or a misty hollow deep to float over
within and without creation, salvation, salivation, liberation,
words mean nothing. wine and dead roses. all my sunflowers died.
hypnosis electric blue ice cold bitter lemonade
picturesque animals in rolling funk and havanna trees
maybe i should be more optimistic
it's not like i'll die like this
paralysed contortion grime delicacy fragile breast camera
oh how the breeze fragile
Fragile, it goes like this, it's okay i suppose:
I am a wine glass in your palm
I know you'll let me shatter
Breaking into a million glass fractures
Doesn't seem to matter

"Oh darling" I hear you call out
Over the inexplicable black void
Over which I delicately balance
Despite my attempts to avoid

In my heart I know the choice I've made
And I know that choice is you
All the realisation in the world
Wouldn't make me say we're through

White sheets, blissfully innocent
Stained with your sickly pale glow
I've got to have you, I know I shouldn't
What happens next, you already know.
Feb 2022 · 54
somewhere between always and never
in an abstract space like a dark tunnel
a mosquito buzzes low
you're leaned back on your pillow
blanket outstretched on the pale green
looking up at a sky with no stars
country music plays softly from your radio
but there's nothing to hear
you reach into your back pocket
and pull out a portrait of mona lisa
with gum catering to her face
and sticking to your painted fingernails
smoke drifts softly off the orchards and ambient conversations  
there's empty tension as you hear the clink
of the wine glasses being passed around
silvery flowers are shivering in the empty moonlight
you're having a daydream while someone's talking
i think you're dreaming about a crow
its tracing your movements while you're walking
stomping across wet plants and muddy grass
and puddles in the road in yellow raincoats and dyed hair
holding mushrooms and butterflies
these soft discussions that go nowhere
are a backdrop for black and white images that mean nothing
you could catch a handful of rain as it trickles down
like a drop sliding down the side of a cup
you could empty that handful of rainwater
spread it out on the grass like
coins and diamonds layered on a glass table
you could be intertwined with your lover on the blanket
letting your whispers tickle each others ears
while the music from the radio plays skeleton keys
and dead notes
soon, your arm resting across a lover's chest
will taste the stinging warmth of the sun
as it breaks the morning sky into a million parts
and then you'll have to deal with the lazy poetic
imagery of the new day
bees will hum against the dew coloured flowers
hazy orange heat melting into mirages
will reflect off car windows
and burn your feet on the inky black tar
and you'll have to stare at the hearts etched into legs
so to all the ceiling fans that stopped spinning a long time ago
your friends raise a glass and say
"hello never
how may i be of assistance
it seems to me you've lost something
i would like to help you find it"
the skies are darker than usual and the clouds are greyer
the sunlight is warmer and friendlier
the green is wet
words and dialogues are more abstract than ever.
plants are playing in the suburban boredom
the pool is sunburned

there's a ladybug on your leg.
say goodnight to it while you still have the chance.
these visions of Johana are all that remain
Feb 2022 · 89
Let's run away together
The way the light reflects off your glass
And fractures across all our palms
And the strike of every blade of grass
And how the hills seem to breathe so calm

I'm sick and tired of working for nothing
And I don't want to be searching for something
So won't you waste time with me
Queen Jane
Won't you count lines with me
Queen Jane

When your servants decline my requests
On the banisters I can see them hide
Then your mother starts talking about regrets
And I wonder why I'm sitting inside

I'm so bored of having something to do
And I'm exhausted by how little time I spend with you
So won't you count sheep with me
Queen Jane
Won't you fall alseep with me
Queen Jane

When you're talking to me it sounds abstract
When I hear your voices shouting in chorus
They all stick out and I'm tired of our contact
And I can't see the trees for the forest

I'm so distracted by too little to see
And too much, you know, would only bore me
So won't you watch paint dry with me
Queen Jane
Won't you laze and get high with me
Queen Jane

When the glass doors of the store slide open
And you're wishing you brought some kind of coat
And the manager is whispering go in
Is it too late to speculate we're on a boat

Won't you watch clocks tick with me
Queen Jane
Won't you feel sick with me
Queen Jane
On a drive to durban
December 30 2021
Feb 2022 · 72
Im thinking of ending things
Everything looks apocalyptic
And when I look in the mirror all i see is an archaic building
There's no sound when i speak.
There's nothing to hear in this echo chamber and there's nothing left to talk about
And everything feels like ash
I'm the little ghost in my room
Watching somebody else lay in my bed
Feb 2022 · 95
I’ve often felt like there’s something slightly wrong inside my head
like reality was just slightly toying with me.
Something just underneath the skin.
It may strike you too if you’re not careful,
it happens so easily. So you might wake up one day and
make yourself breakfast and
then go about your morning routine,
brush your teeth and
pick out your clothes and
go off to wherever and
feel the sun striking you and
be aware, beneath the surface, that there’s something slightly missing, or
maybe there’s just too much of it.
Maybe you’re just bored. Maybe you’re hungry (you’re only human after all). Maybe you need sleep. Maybe you need a therapist. Maybe you should forget your head, because everyone has off days, and you’re prone to overthinking you know, don’t fall victim to overthinking, it’s probably nothing, you’re too much in your thoughts anyway. Maybe you’re going through withdrawals of a drug you’ve never tried. Maybe you should take drugs. Maybe you need to be dissected. Maybe you need a friend. Maybe you’re in the wrong reality. Maybe you’ve been alive too long. Maybe you’re living in someone else’s life. Maybe you're dead. Maybe you need a nap.
You ever hear "Maybe" by the Chantels? Pretty good song
Feb 2022 · 86
Something Unforgivable
I don't mind love
I'm not afraid of life
I want to marry you always
I'm spending time walking down the street
I wear a shirt and tie and go to work everyday
I watch TV and see adverts and people in the concrete all around
I hear pretty melodies and see trees and grass and bricks everywhere
I love you
My Name is Jorge regula
Jan 2022 · 88
something stupid
fish are stupid
buildings folded over
dumb together

i buried the shirt i fell asleep in
my nails aren't painted anymore
we all have little lollipops
buy me a fish

blurry faces in crowds
into themselves
im melting over
your head is small

im thinking of you
stairways in circles
little shadows on my bed

i buried the shirt i fell asleep in

ghost dancing
popcorn butter air

im thinking of me
i love you
i love you

i love you
this isn't happening anywhere.
i don't even like rollercoaster rides anymore
a surreal love poem
Jan 2022 · 71
Something Beautiful
My whole life I've felt disconnected from people
Sort of like I'm trying to communicate behind a panel of glass
But I never really make it
I'm just watching from the outside
While everybody else gets to live
And I don't think I ever will understand others
But I dont really mind
I'm quite content in here.
Jan 2022 · 108
fish are stupid
buy me a fish
i love you
let's be ghosts together
Its okay to eat fish
Ghost fishes
Weird children
There are two shapes
I slipped and hit my head
I slipped

Follow me out of town children
Follow me out of town children
Follow me out of town children
I'm already not listening
Jan 2022 · 129
thinking of ending things thinking of ending things thinking of ending things thinking of ending things thinking of ending things thinking of ending things thinking of ending things thinking of ending things thinking of ending things thinking of ending things thinking of ending things thinking of ending things thinking of ending things thinking of ending things thinking of ending things thinking of ending things thinking of ending things thinking of ending things nobody can hear me
Jan 2022 · 5.3k
Im thinking of ending things
everything is all right now
it's okay
everything is the way it's supposed to be

go to sleep
you're good enough
close your eyes

close your eyes
take off your clothes
you're good enough

take off your clothes
i'm thinking of ending things
yesterday i woke up on the phone

buildings rearranged

all the scarecrows
and everything
everything's ending.
i don't know if this is good, i'd appreciate feedbacfjsdf;osdlyesterday i woke up on the phone listening to the radio eysteday i fell asleep in the pool witheiswek it all in its right place Confused Yet?

Sorry if this is difficult and esoteric, thats the pointi don't know if this is good, i'd appreciate feedbacfjsdf;osdlyesterday i woke up on the phone listening to the radio eysteday i fell asleep in the pool witheiswek it all in its right place Confused Yet?

Sorry if this is difficult and esoteric, thats the point. Things are just somewhat difficult and lonely, and it's hard to articulate it. nevertheless, i try.
Chicanery, mendacity, an enigmatic virtue
It's in my nature, azure allure like verdure
Pseudo-sagacity, arid and automatic
Sybaritic audacity, be pragmatic
Gimme some clemency, I blame the sediment
It's evident there's something in the medicine not heaven-sent
I'm not eloquent, verbal carcinogenic
Contours contort and distort like hallucinogenic
Jan 2022 · 4.0k
Venus and Adonis
I'll be the sea, fatuous and chaotic
You be the sky, melting into marigolds above me
Tasting colours, orchards of hues
Close my eyes and lift up my libation
All my arid poems of sybaritic self pity
Sand on my lips, wind sweeping my hair, seashells in my ears
Salty spray on my eyelashes
You're my sweet clemency, verdure and elusive
I want all of you, your ochre and your chartresue and your auburn melting into each other
I want your contradictions and contraindications and complications and dreary storms
Your bleak Tuesdays, your burnt clouds, your blurry edges
Your unknowable horizons
And your azure, pastel and electric, harsh and soft, misty and empty

Do I need to spell it out, darling
I want to kiss you, isn't it obvious
I wrote this watching the sunrise on the beach.
Storytime: yesterday i had a movie moment
I sat on the pier with wind sweeping me and read Jane Austen staring at the horizon. Then i tried to go for a meditative walk on the beach, but i couldn't stop thinking about all the ***** that could at any moment pinch my toes and i ended up going back home.
I guess the lesson is - dont over exert yourself and your movie moments. Also, watch out for those crustaceous little *******.
Nov 2021 · 1.6k
White Ferrari
Its bad luck to talk while you're driving
But I don't want us to be fighting
Please stay familiar for the last time
So what kind of car are you riding
I said wait, what are you hiding
What do you mean for the last time

White Ferrari
I finally replied
A moment of silence
And then she sighed
I used to be in pain
But now I don't feel it
I used to be afraid
But now I don't fear it

I asked her what she was scared of
She said it used to be love
But now I don't care
Cause I'm not scared
Or maybe not unafraid
Maybe I'm just not there

The empty lot I'd pulled into
I gazed at it behind the window
Of my White Ferrari, and held the phone
The sun went down as shadows relegated
The sky turned blurry and pixelated
And pretty soon, I'd have to go home

White Ferrari
Make the world end
I don't want to hear this
Then she said, please pretend

That in this life, in this life
We can watch the summer together
As it draws to a close, draws to a close
And while the leaves fall down and we get cynical
We hold hands and you pull me close

You dominate my dreams
I'll see you as I wander in dark corners
And hallways

Things are so hard in this life
Things are so dark in this life
We're born alone
But we don't have to end that way
Please don't hang up the phone
Before I go away

Your White Ferrari
I wish I could see it
Or even go to sleep
Cause then I could dream it
It's so easy to leave you breathless
It's not hard to make it look effortless
I had an epiphany about life
But I'm not quite sure what it was
Oh well, nevermind
I'll figure it out eventually

She said, are we taller in other dimensions
I said, no we're small and not quite worth the mention
She said I'm sorry for turning so abstract
I said, please tell me where are you at
She said, you know I can't tell you that
She said, everything is starting to turn black
She said don't hang up but try to stay quiet
We're never closer than when we're in silence
Let's try to imagine what silence looks like
I hung up the phone and was left with the night.
Yes yes this is what happens when you spend the day listening to Frank Ocean

the story here is a girl calling a guy (friend? lover? family? who knows man) as she's about to commit suicide, asking him to stay on the line because she doesn't want to die alone.
Nov 2021 · 115
The red and blue muse looking to **** me
How ironic and amusing to steal me
My heart dissected in this room below freezing
Mothers are wheezing in mourning every morning
There's blood on my doorstep, morgues are calling
Merged into obituaries and I'm falling
Bet you'll be buried before adult teeth are growing
Sowing devastation and corrupting all my patience
Another black suit congregation is waiting
Another tombstone is silently relating
Another blue vest is violently hating
Another dead kid lays here
Another dead mother cries tears
We're worlds apart but in my heart I feel you
I feel fear too
Pray you don't live like us
I wrote this a while ago, when Nathaniel Julius died. Only felt right to publish it now though, not sure why.

It's weird that we were the same age when he died, but now I'm older than he'll ever be. It's also weird that I never met him or knew him or would've heard about him if he didn't get murdered, and yet it kinda feels like he altered my life and self-perception, even if it was just a little bit.

My mom still watches the trial of the officers who killed him as often as she can.
Okay I take too kindly to demons sometimes
And I have too much pity for thieves on the corner
Who wait for me expectantly, armed with wise words
Of advice, which I heed, like "Hey buddy, get the hell out
Don't ya know that these people here are too rough"
And sure sometimes the clumsiness
O'ertakes my body, and all my nerves get frayed
And all I can do is stare into the light and become aware
As my self-perception whisks into a wisp
And disappears w' the evening sun
And yes, I do concur
That hazily, somewhat dreamily, and with careful planning
I do indeed drift off from set tasks and chores until
Every square inch of my home on the farmlands is
Collapsing because I chose instead
To occupy my time
With the pursuit of being well-read and well-acquainted with
Writer's block
But nevertheless, a noble pursuit though it may be
It does little to distract from the rubble around
As my world decays and fractures
With calculated improvisation
And sure, whatever, spinning existential cartwheels
Is a habitue of being trapped in these cycles of thought
That come from solitude, self-imposed, ah-yes I know
A fortress of ice in this brown field
All the snow is ***** and sandy, my igloo is muddy and warm
And I cross township streets to libraries, not to read
But to perfect my accent, soften the rough edges
And paint my eyes a pristine pink
And have I yet mentioned the perfect poetry
That says absolutely nothing at all
Ah yes, a poet, the truest mark
Of having time to waste and potential to ****
So I'm aware of all these facts
Presented before me on a platter more silver than the
One I grew up with in surburban exile
So please, refrain from comment
For I'm just a sad-eyed boy
Wasting away in these lowlands
Improvising every word I octopus.
Oct 2021 · 77
Parking Garage Standoff
The abstract void of concrete
Mirrors reflect perpetually
Voyage into the unknown
Rising intensity
Static hums
Rising like a Sunday morning.

The lights go dim.
****** complete.
Shutdown mode activated.
Meltdown in process. Do not disturb.
Wander the walls until you find your car
Error, operator is on the line.
Do not compute compute
compute compute compute.
Oct 2021 · 354
Writer's Block
I start a thousand stories and never come close to finishing them
I open a page to write a poem and discard it quickly
Aye am very bored all the time
Eye have no idea what to do anymore, so eye breathe in the
Eyre all around me
I'm a little fish in a bowl
Fishy fishy fish
g l a s s
I feel like a fish trapped in a glass bowl. I think this feeling used to be enjoyable when I was a child, and I could wander around making up stories for every little corner of the house and spend hours daydreaming.
But now I only wander the house when I'm frightfully bored and lonely, and spiralling downwards into a pool of overwhelming thoughts.
Also, I can't write poems. It feels like trying to violently, passionately, energetically break the glass of the bowl, but instead only gently tapping on the glass and then falling backwards into the ground.
Aug 2021 · 86
Ceiling fan

As I wander this empty house
With sins piling up on my mind
I gaze at the trees rustling in silence
While the sun beats down coldly
The wind drags ice hands across my face
And the ground trembles slightly
I lay on my couch and watch the ceiling fan spin
Around into a mystical circle
The dust settles in a myriad of shapes
And the inky black lake outside
Spirals in ouroboros
The sky is a vortex tonight
Inside, shadows are projected by flickering lights
And dance on the walls
And suddenly the world, with all its ambient peace
Its tiny battles and conflicts, its Sisyphean exercises in life and death and rebirth
Its everlasting entropy that wraps around us with loving arms
Turns grey and sideways and skewed and cold and dissonant
And utterly boring
And I'm left unable to distract myself from my own emptiness
The skin on my body folds into sharp corners
Daydreams taste sour
I spin around on the ceiling, lazy as a river

Crawl Space

Love, and the world turns into colour too soon
Loquacious silence claims liquid deserts in monsoon
Smoke rising over scenic vistas and oceanic plateaus
The faint eerieness of the hills bid me adieu  
I'm freefalling again as I wander these empty hallways
The wind daydreams between my fingers and weaves into the curls of my tangled hair
Everything is a dark spiral
I'm hazily descending into the depths, stumbling awkwardly
The wintery embrace of the water wraps around my skin and chills me to the bone
The vivid blue stings into my eyes and worms its way into my brain
The walls are closing in around me
Waves of self obsession enclose me and drag me further
Self pity is a riptide
It's sands are filling my mouth like an hourglass
Tick tock, the mechanical pendulum swings back and forth
Across molten, half formed thoughts and angular dissonance
My pen numbly punches through my skin and I bleed the dark ink of my poetry
And float
drifting slowly
Quietly humming

I disassemble.
new flows coming, be patient brother.
Jul 2021 · 813
I think I'm full of contra-dictions
And contra-distinctions
You disagree
But you're a Sandinista!
We're bound to clash
Puns puns puns
Jun 2021 · 404
Don't Want to Move.
I'm running away
Cause my only reason for
Living is my pen

It's education
Perpetual writer's block
Feels too good in here

I don't want to move
No more blues for me to sing
Smiles in emptiness

Spaces between words
Where I carefully reside
Not real, feeling good.
4 haikus
4 unfinished haikus, at that.
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