When teasing fate
Becomes cliché

We live our lives
In ire to waste

We receive everything we’ve thought
Everything we’ve secretly wished for

Trying to break through,
Through death's door

It might be barred
From the other side
But I’m not sure

1.

steel-coloured streaks of clouds
(or questionable chemical trails)

driving lines through
the surface of the sky.

the concrete pavements,
smeared in patches
of ashen blackness

veiling the bleak horizon
in a tattered smokeskin.

the sun here is as supine
as the ruins that will lie,
smouldering deep beneath
its’ silvery shadowed outline.

the clouds here seem
formed of steel,
only very odd often
are they revealed.

hiding daylight,
dimming our dreams,
like catalysts to loss.

construct and noose from tulip branch and be fed to the foxes
- live is in liver which will become desolate tomorrow trying to sort out my stupidity

I’m a numb statue
Built to remind you all
Of what isn’t worth doing

- diagnosing connection problems (with close friends)
- dance for the sake of keeping your mask intact

I hate you and love you all
In some odd dynamic way
I’m sober, then I’m resentful
I’m drunk, and intent’s full

- "where I end and you begin" if only I could begin with you
- "there’s a gap where we meet" ALL THE TIME

- why do I find it hard to connect to you? is it because we’re both fundamentally socially ******* or is one of us in denial of something
- can’t express ourselves without getting drunk oh dear

and then we trip out of windows
and break ferns and furniture

in some bold dream scene
ego’s arising like iron waves
for the queen of the scene

black serpent and white viper
scramble to avoid eachother

- four foxes once dwelled here
- mistakes can seem meticulous, just google it
- if you could cuddle an insecurity like it had flesh and breath
- finding a new depth, ***** maths exams
- why must I be this way to write the best poetry
- we don’t know how to raise kids, we’ll bribe them instead
- minimum wage ******, an absurd public order
- I love your quirks like I love canyons
- numb is sometimes good when you can share feelings but not thoughts
- COME OUT OF THE CLOSET ALREADY

washed away my mind
in wasteful wishful thinking
wish I left a morsel of me behind

buy and sell sense in satchels
premium price my parable
sell it for members only
******* elitist

bernake. bank my soul
store it in between your teeth
eat my wages, waste away resources

argumentative stepfathers
second in line
come again
when you can bend time

wasted my time
inebriated entrance only
scoring chicks, only
everyone else lies in denial

an embarrasment your ego
such a shame you cut your ****
now tell me something else

you love him deep down
you keep him from me
you keep him from the eye
I’d ******* but I lvoe you

paraplegic prophets
on denials and amphetamines
screaming obscenities
dreaming denied fantasies
jesus

get out of your shell
all that lies outside is hell
abolish the polished snakes
their heads are venomous

- “it’s awesome when I’m this ****** p because it’s harder to decipher the meaning behind my poetry”
- “or maybe I’m being pretentious”
- “but I’m ****** anyway so it doesn’t matter”
- “when we’re like this we deny responsibility and give to mother nature and her world”

the pallettes are patented
we’d nothing more to lose

my liquerrational ramblings

The city offers me nothing
but mortal mortar and soulless stone.
Destiny summoned me here:
to Nature, my forgotten home.

We voted against a union
and were met with derision
For all whom had hailed
a vengeful decision.

Within the distant dreams
of a broken ghostly soul.

His cryptic mind's silver lining
Weaving a fable left unforetold.

My inner voice is translucent
with rays of light, shining through
like a silhouette over water.

Echoes over my hometown
A fleeting feeling amidst the cold.

You said something, but
Your words meant nothing.

Shadows over Leningrad
Shostakovich's theme.
Shadows over Sochi
A conservative dream.

"Thou shalt not give into the gimmicks."

"An urban fox as a metaphor for societal shunning."

"Commerica & Collaborative Chaos"
"A Friendly Fascist"

Revolutions wait to spin
Every second, beneath your skin

Denials heard so dryly
In your crooked disposition

Social homeostasis
Is a distant dream here

Don’t deny,
don’t deny yourself

The semantics behind your sins
The darkness that this underpins

I sit here writing, scribing
Hoping for the false foundation
Of a bright future to rise
Of which these writings are imbibing

13/2/2014 Scraps

My brain chemistry is imbalanced:
Add another conflict and I'll combust.
Bitter still with a sense of mistrust. #poetry #micropoetry


My eyes aren't for appreciating
The silver lining in your carefully crafted lies #poetry 2/3

Before you owe yourself
Another one of my favours
Consider the foundations On which I stand #poetry 1/3


A rusting of the silver lining
A shattered hourglass and microscope lens
With its' scattered shards all along
My path of life #poetry


Driving us slowly, up an avenue to death

There on death's porch
(Blood marks on death's door)
We are one breath short/
We fall and die alone #poetry #micropoetry


The bell tolls its' daily trill
Of a diminshed tone

Diminishing every thrill
A boredom that breaks bones #poetry #micropoetry

Some people prefer
to be frozen.

Ignore the whispers
of the warmth.

I have escaped.

Release the tensions
of your denials
Into your awkward smile.