If I seem distant it's
because I am.
I abandon this city
like rain down gutters
trying to get back
to a home, a field, a shore,
no traffic, no smoke
where air is pure
& lungs breathe deep,
in a rhythm
untarnished by
tarmac & brick;
modernity's grip
that looks for life
& buries it, forgets
Earth has a pulse
a heart that beats
beneath us.

why am i taking song suggestions from a boy who doesn't play any instruments and thinks my favourite music sounds 'cheap'

Life's not laundry.
Don't separate
The colours
From the whites.

I GIVE the undertakers permission to haul my body
to the graveyard and to lay away all, the head, the
feet, the hands, all: I know there is something left
over they can not put away.

Let the nanny goats and the billy goats of the shanty
people eat the clover over my grave  and if any yellow
hair or any blue smoke of flowers is good enough to grow
over me  let the *****-****** children of the shanty
people pick these flowers.

I have had my chance to live with the people who have
too much and the people who have too little and I chose
one of the two and I have told no man why.

The water was quiet and unruffled:
Though intemperate winds blew on it
Ne’er once did it ever really stir
And we got so used to its pervasive presence

In line with global trends everywhere
We took notice only when loud waters bubbled
       Like wayward children we scoffed
       When delectable words of wisdom
Wafted like therapeutic mist out of Wisdom Well

But now that the well is empty and dry
Our deprivation begins in earnest
And soon, very soon, nostalgia will whip us
One and all till we learn the bitter lesson:

That second chances belong to storybooks only;
Now that this veritable repository of true wisdom
Is in other dimensions our dilemma cries out
Who amongst us shall quench our thirst
Now that the water in the well has dried

it's one of those
things; how
coffee, after dinner
sounds good but
you can't sleep when you get home &
how the trees look so beautiful
dying and gold
still, outside it freezes you
down to your bones
it's when you feel like that
last slice of cake that
got left out
it's this
breathing to scream but
don't open your mouth
I've been
digging for reason
buried in doubt
to believe in what's good when
that isn't allowed &
I've swallowed my gun
it was loaded with love but
it shot out my lungs
I learned love's not enough

silver linings don't exist honey;
those are your veins