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English Jam Sep 2018
The beach smells of tranquillity and salty sea air
The rhythm of the waves gently caresses my skin
The horizon seems elusive, a dream always chased
Yet night foreshadows traumas waiting to be let in

Oh where do I begin?

I love you
I don't wanna be scared of you
I'm waiting in the shoreline
Please don't run away this time


I'm scared of silent reflections, solemn and reclusive
I float futher from myself with each passing day
I have a note addressed to myself taped to a mirror
I'm scared of reading it aloud and being lead astray

And I have to accept that it's okay

"I love you
I don't wanna be scared of you
I'm waiting in the shoreline
Please don't run away this time"


Seashells coated in sand tickle the edge of my ear
The fog carried on the wind sends chills deep inside
The sun will always be there to break the duskiness
Daunting across the sky and waking up the tide

And the breeze slowly sighed

Please don't run away,
       don't run away from me
Please don't run away,
         don't run away from help
Please don't run away,
             don't run away from the sea
Please don't run away,
                don't run away from yourself


Angel wings take me further than I've ever gone before
English Jam Sep 2018
Wings of darkness float my way
I am the ocean, a sprawling black mess
But I still can't sea
Harsh orange rages on forever
Words are scattered like puzzle pieces that won't fit
Colours unravel whether or not I want
It's too much, trying too hard to be victorious
The whispering, the endless laughter, it's driving me to a pit
Pain takes flight as a member of a controlling fleet
Embracing the full fury of a blackened spiral
To slowly drag me away to a chamber of scorching heat
Everything feels so painful, yet I don't stop it
Because it's glorious
For one moment, I feel triumphant
Soon the feeling will drag me under with it
But to hell with long-lasting pleasure
Serenity
Happiness
Wings of darkness take me away
There's a pun in the beginning. Try to "sea" it.

Dear, that was terrible.
Morning sun rises, here he comes
All night I have waited
Waiting for him to wake from his slumber

He is old, frail in need of company
She left him for a place in the clouds
Never a smile only a frown

I long to say good day
Its lonely on the web
Waiting to snare a bug
On the silken strands I call home

He shuffles his feet along the rug
I watch it all high upon the ceiling
Wishing for a glance upon my web

He never see's me
I see him with all eight eyes
Mr Mccoy, That's what I call him

He makes a cup of tea
I stretch a few legs hoping he will notice
The kettle boils, steam burns my feet
I scuttle to the top as beads form
Like raindrops on silver strings

His tender eyes peer out glass panes
Watching his crop, Old Mr Mccoy
Deep lines mark his face, thoughts of her mark his mind

Eight legs, no way to hug
If only he would see a friend in me

A picture of her, a tear shed
I spin my web, lowering
Closer and closer to his head

"Mr Mccoy ill be your friend!"
No words can I make to fall on death ears
He takes his tea and leaves me be

Tomorrow he might look up
Ill be ready, waiting on my web.
A little story of a spider who just wants a friend.
English Jam Jul 2018
My little friend is now gone
My tragic life must go on; despite that
His evil eyes and his cheeky smile still burn in my mind
He no longer exists except
For my memory of him
And I rejoiced
When I heard the news
Still I can recall how I sobbed
When he gave me his evil eye for the first time
When he hurled glass and other projectiles at me when he was hungry
When he spent hours upon hours pondering the fabric of society
I hated him
I wished
For his death
I was depressed
It was like paint peeling off a wall
It was like finding a dead leprechaun at the end of a rainbow
I was expecting some sort of remorse when he left
Funny how heartbreak works

Now read this in reverse
Because sometimes all you need
Is a little change of perspective
To truly understand someone
Dedicated to the goldfish I had when I was little who accidentally died. This is for you sweet fish <3.
English Jam Jun 2018
The air is perfumed with fresh rosemary's
And the wild springs with lush berries
Their presence colours the nursery with a sweet loom
It bleeds into the forecast for tomorrow's gloom
Nostalgia hits hard, heartbreaking and eerie
For a day when I wasn't paranoid and weary
Well, I'll be down by the Brighton pier
Watching birds float past in lonely fear
I'd love to turn away

The pristine sun shines like Hades
The outside scent is yellow, maybe
Little daises laugh in the foreground
Gardens sow a loving sound
Once I could see hope in the trees
And the love that whispered on the breeze
Now the trees foreshadow longing
And the gale howls with wronging
I'd love to turn away

The intimacy in my yellow tinted flowers seems to have faded
And the soft orchards have been invaded
My words burnt in a smouldering pile of dust
And steaming with the heat of my lust
I told a crowd I had something to say
But the people turned away
away
away...
English Jam May 2018
Boredom on a Sunday is inescapable
I try to hide it behind playing my musical instrument
Trumpeting with my trumpet - blowing my own horn -
I'm praying no one interprets that last sentence as an innuendo
Anyway, I'm nodding off, signing out of reality
The world goes hazy in a second
And I'm ****** into the vortex of a dream

Weird how when a dream begins, we immediately understand the situation
For this scene, I'm spewing blood from my spleen like a bottle of sauce squeezed too hard
It stains the leather of my vehicle
My foot is pressing the pedal to the floor, and the speedometer is twinged in half from all the pressure
The monolith of a highway I'm speeding on shakes as though giants stomp upon it
And the wail of a siren drives me into a frenzy as I try to escape the inevitable
Their polychromatic lights dance at the edges of my eyes, spurring rhythm into action
Even though they must be aeons behind, my heart melodramatically pumps in my chest as though the police are in the backseat
Blood bursting through my temple, thoughts wheezing by like someone's let go of hundreds of balloons  
Up ahead, the road twists itself into a knot of nothingness
My hands are wrapped around the steering wheel so tightly, I fear I might never be able to release them
It's a slight movement: right hand goes down, left goes up, but it kicks the vehicle sideways
My body slams into the car with a satisfying crunch and my mind spirals to spaghetti strands
Oddly enough, the world becomes rinsed with blue wash and I'm underwater

My train of thought becomes peaceful, melodic
I float about, running on the inverse of the waves
Here, even a scream is joyous as it sounds all bubbly and childish
Suddenly, a red streak runs across the ocean, chilling me to the bone and erasing all my bubbles
The sea becomes glittered with red and blue streaks, a warning
Bullets stab at my spleen, reminding me of the pain that was, and still is
And my body gears into a full 360, concluding my return to the real world
Or is it the dream world?
Oh well
Either way, I'm back in my car
Carelessly freefalling from nowhere
Weapons, glass, blood droplets, pocket change, pedestrians...all breeze around slowly
Pleading with me to wake up
Then

Everything crumbles, and I smack my ugly head against the window, splattering my brains everywhere
My car flew from the sudden turn and I crashed, I think
Now I lay, grasping onto consciousness while pedagogues staple me to the ground
The Lawman towers over me, grinning madly at my defeat
The most barbaric insult, however, comes from the radio, still magically working
"I fought the law and the law won," The Clash idly sing
One of my favourite songs turned into dark irony
The last I remember before blacking out is the scarlet and marine lights clashing forevermore

When I wake up, I'm face-down on the stony and icy floor
The cold burns me enough to wake me from la la land
The iron grip of the handcuffs feels very real
Words are forced into my head, not by my own design, but sort of like they've been placed there
An argument as to whether existence has a meaning is taking place in my head, and I can't stop it
Sort of like how in a dream, you can't control your thoughts or actions
Wait
This is still a dream, right?
Right?
  May 2018 English Jam
Cello Girl
i thought it was normal.
hiding secrets and pain
behind locked doors
and tight smiles.

that everyone
heard voices in their heads,
saw people who weren’t there;
their ‘pretend’
was more pretend
than mine.

that the arguing
the shouting
the overflowing hurt
was a normal part
of my siblings’
teenagerhood.

that the belt was
commonplace,
the hairbrush, too,
and the barbed words that mom
threw to hurt us.

hiding in a
closet
barely big enough to fit,
to avoid a mother with a wild
look in her eyes
was normal.

i thought that the child
protective service visited
every house.

that every mother was as loving as mine
to warn me
(8 years, already regretting life)
of the gory details of my own ****
(a word i learned that day)
that would surely occur
if i ran away, left
like the deepest part of my heart
wanted to.

i grew up thinking it normal
to live expecting
to be beaten
down.

i thought that love
was a bruise so deep
that nothing
else could
compare.
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