Sitting atop my pedestal here wishing
I could go back down
I have outworn my crown
Ask not what we can do with you
Ask what you can do for us
We’ve all done something wrong
Forgiveness is the song

Self awareness, self awareness
Some people do something right
They are so true to the fight
But they never get enough praise
Always hailed too late

It’s one of those days again
Male feelings strike again
Sometimes a cigar
Is just cigar

But fair enough
Life is rough
What starts off as sweet
Soon gets tough

Sailing solemnly
on the gray gales
of May; he walked
the tear-touched street.



The light of the lamps
shone rays of defeat

The headlights shone
in the same way,

over the road
beaming with water.

A crossing, alone
in the same way,

a fast car drove,
speeding ever surer.



In Heaven the headlights
are the warmth of an
unbroken home.

Laying in a sun-touched river,
no longer to cry, never to shiver.

In Heaven the lamp-lights
are beacons of hope

for love we once held
on fluorescent waves
without a doubt.

Discombobulated
beyond a miles’ worth
of snapped and razor-weight
wires, my roots have yellowed
and have split into insanity

My mind is crippled
By conditioning

Corruptive chemicals diffuse
shattering senses, imbalancing,
Dancing in an inverse orbit
Around this crumbling mind
For nausea and disorientation

My mind is crippled yet again
By the **** conditioning

Chains and walls trap his brain
Pressures from and from errors
They bound themselves in pain

A hard step up from dark terrors
of weighted wasteful winter nights

He's wired to not haste or fight
against solid norms and habit
In this sad stance he finds no light

Heavy his heart, it can't conceive
the good vibrations in the dull air
Stuck his mind, they can not believe

With his broken brain he does not care
As it descends harshly to shutdown

1.

Upon the last perch,
before the abyss

and the bliss
of a blackened Earth.

I stand pinned into
the soil and earth of
your words

I stand surmounted
By everything

Ropes and thistles
Those bitter brambles

Stuck, wrapped
and slit, trapped
beneath my skin

To prevent me
From falling in.

I've dropped a weight
A larger anchor than fate

When I tell myself I can't escape
Bound by my brain’s mistakes

The future is a starless sky
Here in my tripwire mind

When you come to deliver me
Remind me to respect your loyalty

I might forget and wind up, silent
With no consciousness left to care

Left to care about your warm touch
Left to care when you pick me up

I’m scared, if you can’t be there
in the middle of the mayhem

the results of my tripwire mind
fading away at the worst of times

When you come to pick me up
Your touch will be the way to the
Heavens above, the Heavens above

When I think I’ve had enough
Never enough of your loyalty
in your love, your love
The loyalty in your love

Christ,

I left my head in
the haze of sweeteners

I left my stomach in
An ocean of skimmed milk

I left my faith in
Your warm embrace

I feel a unicorn's horn
Piercing an entire canyon
In my mind

If I have a third eye
Then Christ, it's calcified


(I must purge this curse
Wash it in white dye

I must revitalise
Unless I'll die)

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.

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.

His hatred hangs like a hook
Though crooked, he is never right
They say, it seems to swing that way
That’s how it is each and every day

He cannot look to the shadowed
He cannot bear to share his light
His widowed consort can only stare

Onwards through his harrowing
Silence bearing then, his screaming
Never caring, broken curses bearing

What can be done to heal those?
Locked, heart beating deep in shock
Trapped into cavernous corners
Crying like corrupted cavalry
Over love long lost and choked
To the coldest point and having broke

He will not consider those, no
Only slither to the shivering throat
Of the widowed ones’ lost love
Reciting hopeless jokes over and over
‘Cracked are those who confine
themselves to corners’

But when it comes to him, in sudden shock
When the pain of his coveting stands in the way
He will understand, on that depressing dark day
The pain he has made the lost love
That he so shamefully craved
On that dark day,
When silence breaks…

If the universe
is a hologram

Are we all programmed?

Do we live on puppet strings
Guided by ghosts, they sing
Us to our source

Is our will the only force
Drifting us to our core

Can we transcend this?
When we learn to see other worlds

Does it lie beyond a mirror?
Can we see across the river?

Will the light bend around us?
Will the doors just open up?

Will someone need the key?
Did they leave it in a diary?

We can sit here wondering
We may ask and we may receive

For all that we can believe

Mechanisms can keep us still
For we have thoughts and time to ****

Do we live on puppet strings?
Will we wake or
will we dream again?

If the universe is a hologram

Satisfy your shallow heart
In desperate and selfish chases
Shy away your many faces
In lonely and hopeless places

Bittersweet superficial king
Of everything, hide your heart away
Draw the blinds over me and say
‘I know I’m right anyway
My way is the only way.’

I laugh at how serious you get
It’s hard to lose love and not fret
But you can’t play them anyway

So how can you sit there and say
While the discarded remnants
Your self-absorbed soul waste away
‘I’ll soon find my own way.’

Feelings are terrible teachers

They’ll stress your mind
and take away your time
you will never draw a line
on whether they’ll push or pull

If you refuse to listen
to their endless lectures
then expect to have these
constant complications
with their code of conduct
and their strict regulations

Yes, you can and will skip class
for as long as your white lies permit
But you know you’ll end up coming back
or end up punished by a higher hand

Soulless, stress-filled, a vacant face
stares you straight into your little eyes
and from here, your life begins to lacerate

I am to you
What fire is

To the will
Of the wind

It's hard
to feel
when you're
addicted
to someone

It's hard
To breathe
In this cage
You dwell

Continuing on
Hopeless ends

Built upon
false confidence

When
Drunken minds
Speak
Sober thoughts

Of fantasies
In which
We are wrought

Lead me on
Twist my words

We won't be
'Til the truth
is heard

Dressed in false skins
of rusted metals
Acidic stings of
aimless love

It's why you pretend
You're someone else

It's hard
To love
In this cage
You dwell

Proeliator
One after
the other

A hopeless
cycle of
broken love

Anxious shivers
To shivered hopes

It's hard
to feel
when you're
hung by a rope

And in a
haze of
verdant green

I found you out
I tore down
the scene

A serpent to
my soul's
amnesty

It's hard
to feel
when you're
addicted
to someone

Someone else.

I can’t tell you whether or not it may be

the deepest depths
of my envy

or the most manifest
of all of my animosity

that drives me to hate your happiness.

But when you tell me so blithely,
Of how you’re being honoured now
Loved, cherished and respected
I feel disjointed, too far left out

I’ve never had a
truly happy moment
For as long as I have lived

Why? Well,
Each and every day they claimed
They loved me, they wanted so forcefully
To make me feel happy

And I was
Seeing beyond fake smiles
Shattered by false impressions
designed to force a smile of my own

The chaos in my mind
Prevents me from ever
Feeling at peace, in love
Securely, strongly; but ever
In my life have I had a
truly happy moment?

Because your self-inflicted smile
Is etched in the same flesh
As my wail of inner pain

It’s loud enough to convince me that, somehow,
your happiness is far more important than mine.


And somehow, any sense of compassion is nullified
because your life is a fortress, just an absorption
from and for the matters within your own mind.

I am divided
You are whole

A piece of you
has entered my soul

I hope you know
just when the moon,
will glow

An orange haze
will bind the flow

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 world awoke
with half a mind
to think otherwise

Aside from every side;
every last angle of thought

To forget, whilst
under mental arrest,
all that was absorbed

As a crater,
lying in the lobes.

Seeping out sense
from a growth.

Shiver images and
False steel skins
Snakes with the flesh of worms

A stalwart farce
Etched in his whispers
Gaining entrance with false words

Selfish, dear?
Standing there, proud
Entrenched in denial
Smothered in beer

Oh,
Shield me from his
Verbal precipitation
Like an umbrella

His denials are deeper
than the Mariana trench

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

December morning mists,
Mirrors to life's mysteries

As gray as they are the tones
and timbres of this existence

December morning mists,
like veils upon the face
of truth

As cold and as distanced are they
As every friend I ever thought cared

Life is a perfect mystery,
everything is uncertain
especially my own

Bonded as brittle souls

Revealed them to the cold

And you were both broken

Dead he felt when she left

Lying in lieu of love to be

Errors in their energies

"You will never lose me"

Shivering in that premise

Happiness held still (by the)

Agony of a closed promise

Never again reuniting

(Under the sun's old lighting)

"I will never lose you" (in)

A bittersweet irony

The week beginning
The seventh of the tenth
Twenty thirteens from my final death

Wings clipped now, time is done
Madness has manifest
straight after sweet love

Scouring the undertow
dusky and dusted
I dream of the willow
pure yet untrusted

I envision a broken halo
charred, shattered and rusted;
utterly finished, diminshed
as if we have never lived

All this respect we had claimed and craved
Caught our fire and went up in frames of flames

And the lie that called us all to see
Eye to eye has fallen three degrees

So if you hear the sound of my voice again,
then know I'm three thirteens, awaiting death

We wane when we wait
Beneath an overcoat of

Hopeless jokes that
***** our flatline honesty

Aimless wars waged to
Satisfy our boredom

Our inner void thickens
The tarpaulin sheet

Congealing around and
Over our honesty

In the eye
of the rolling thunder

Stood idly by
to tear me asunder

The world paints
us gray

In its’ apathetic taint

What we have here
are not our friends

But loose ends and
negative trends

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"

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

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

Red sky in the morning
and the shepherds are all fawning

Curating combs for the wool
whilst the slaughterhouse is built.

We bleat in high hopes
for the avarice to abate

and so, at a comb-stroke
we cultivate our hate. -

Our conversations
wax and wane

like the phases
of the moon.

To this moon
we howl
all day

and our howls
are out of tune.

This place is turning me
Down a spiral to uncertainty

My desire to return, and lie deep
In my hollowed burrow is calling me

So I crave, and writhe, and seek
But nothing seems to free me

Do I take a dull path to dreariness
ignorance and waste in silence

Or shall I turn to the face of mania
with truth and laughter to break my fear

Shall I stifle my senses over with a dead grey haze,
shavings and bearings of my hushed-up pains

Or shall I release my feelings with colours to raise
And move, on and over, to an unknown phase

Sitting, dull, fingers fixated
Shadow covers shimmering screen
All feelings subsided or degraded
Our choices made have their meanings faded
We are not following our shallow dreams
In the hollow, our greyscale souls scream

What is this phenomenon?
Soullessness in lack of love
Or enlightenment in lack of light?
Dissonance attracts to me
Pieces fall like grey floating dust
Darkness calls in on an autumn dusk

Boons beneath our silence
And silent thunder
What decadence lies, so deep
Beneath a white sky?
How do I repair myself from under?
And hear clear my love’s calling?
When my eyes have been torn asunder
I cannot bear to make myself die


I keep switching from ditch to ditch
No man’s land is lost without light
The mist forming atop my mind

No longer blind me from sight!
Not without my heart’s light
To put up a valiant fight
In the highest of harmony
I shall let my soul take flight…

Streams, streams
Of silly string and statements

Spoilt from the start
not a coin earned from heart

And the audacity to defend
a blood-tattered, soul-shattered legacy
an interest that serves itself to the bitter end
and a hope for mankind that dies down, yet again

A robotic, a horrific, working nightmare
Waste and filth and marketing ploys
pass the infra-red, marked with fear and joy

Happiness in the empty heart
that’s fulfilled by plastic, and
Horror in the open heart
that’s sealed with servitude

All they want is a nation made for labour
a nation of thinkers would exchange their favour

If injustice is a cause worth risking a life for
then risk the lives of the lawyers and the lords

For their existence is sitting on the thin ice of their money
funded and incentivised, they **** up bribes like honey

Streams and streams of meaningless numbers
guide our timeline like through a rolling thunder

The vibrations from the cities have formed pyramids to the sky
Dragging us up by the scruff of our necks, to comply or to die

Wasteful wallowing in a crumbling hollow dwelling
Obfuscating the obvious problems, scared from telling

A distracted dubious damnation,
I have craved temptation into
cramped every solitary sensation
and turned them to them sins, too.

So I fantasise, and rampantly
Agonise the logic in my mind
I dream of worlds without proportion
and engagements of moral absorption.
Til' I saturate my soul with images
of endless time and space.

In a stale solitary dimension
I weave tales of honorary mention
but forget their ascensions.

Broken wishes of impossible ambitions
With uncultural and isolated renditions
Of self-indulgent ordeals.

Brought upon by uncontrollable feels
and reeled beyond sense into the light
where my mind cannot be healed.

I'm hearing sirens
and slang alike

Explode,
in such great volumes

Over the sombre tones
of gas pipes
and chirping birds

For these are the
sweet, sublime sounds
of my dear town.

Gunshot. Shouting.
"Out!"

At the end of the day
You were under my roof
You eat my food

My son used your shoes
And refused the truth

At the end of the day
You can’t prove

That he’d crept behind you
and washed you in lies

That he’d stolen money
and stolen time

Don’t come to my door again
Because behind there
lies the snakes’ den

The evidence stands against him
But he can fly, he can raise my voice
With a sudden yet selfish cry

My son is an angel
My son is a lie

I place my mouth by his ear,
My mind by his form.

I shiver, releasing a faint
withered whisper - the waves
of my tone, like cold water

encircles him, crushing its' way
inwards and bursts the blimp
that it his ego.

It spirals down and breaks down walls-

Opens doors. He sees a warming glow.
It reminds him of a distant lover.

Her exothermic aura a radiant shield
its' colour curved around her curvature.

Their energies once intertwined like
a Venn diagram of tension.

If I’m singing songs
that don’t reflect
the thoughts inside my mind
then what’s the point in singing, dear
I think I’d rather die

If I I’m living in a way that’s
out of tune with who I am
then what’s the point in living, dear
I should let it get out of hand

I’m tired of feeling consistently miffed by ****
The world turns and the same tragedy plays out
People only care when the ponces don’t pay out

The times, the times breathe lies for our ears
Led on by corruption, outlasting us for years
Wonder why some people stay one step ahead
It’s because they pay to be sat down and fed

Well let me tell you now
Real issues, real issues
They fill you up with doubt

Just leave your mind at the door
If you believe anything at all,
You would know how to fix these flaws

Cause if you know the truth
And your powerless to change it
Well yeah, it speaks for itself

The sky is shivering
and the air whistles, hollow
under an all-embracing moon
glowing out before it settles down
all too soon

The atmosphere is afraid
Trails in unknown spaces
marking their ways, deeper
into a sky of dispersing clouds

Drifting down to become nothing
Fading out, but without a doubt

Dayrise breaks, then
over the burdens of yesterday
The sun inspired comfort
over a husk of cold souls

Our friend sat there, solemn
on a golden field, softer soils
Soaking up sunlight, royal
and breathing in pollen

He has ascended now
to the warmth from which
an endless love was born

Shining out, smiling out
before he settles down

All too soon, but without a doubt

You were a conglomerate of contradictions
cascaded, divided, wedged in a vapid waste
weighing energy down into a selfish shape,

A structured vessel for polluted ground
a velvet tongue, a needle-waved whistle
that was biting a touch of frost amongst us

In an autumnal haze, a scavenger in taste
shuffles through souls likes cigarettes in his box
to light one up to the new, winter-weighted age,
chewed and swallowed over with an almond-like, bitter taste

The way the shadows were bended,
leaning over our landscape, like a twilight blanket
revealed all of your creatures in the dark
that twist us and terrify us on sleepless nights

When we can not make love to mirrors