You don't like the way the mirror's
looking at you.
It's looking right through you,
at the true you.
With it's pointed pique appraisals.
So you just turn and walk away.

A twist of a knot,
inside your skull.
a thought, a feeling.
Not to speak.
Such is the spirit of
the will of the weak.

Dream of an act,
or piston strong words.
Always fertile, never born.
Your struggle is yearning.
Doubt has a habit of
keeping you turning.

In a tryst of not,
still-born sapling.
A Restless dance.
In unending motion,
any action is studied Askance.

Old wooden knot holed thing.
rust wearing; sitting unplayed.
Strings silent.
Manuscripts of faded scores.
Tarnished ink quavers and semi quavers,
ride the weary stave.
This unheard music fills
the room with it's silence.

I don't need to see you to kiss you,
or not be with you to miss you.
No need for flowers,
speech or silence in our hours.
Or to tell you twice in a trice.
We just need to be;
to show what we both know.

When we dress in phantom finery,
we can only expect disillusionment.
Choke ourself with all our fantastic desires.
Complete mental malnourishment,
from our heart deep self harassment.

Let small smiles slither away.
Gut with tender savagery,
aversions to avarice.
Self-servile self-worth denial,
wash small magic away.

I want to melt a wax Viking,
with a piece of sword shaped kindling.
Watch the face drip, sag run into a
droopy frown of fluid features.

To saw the head from a celebrity mannequin.
Watch fall it to the floor,
with it's perfect teeth and face;
plastic smooth skin.
Almost as plastic and smooth as the “real” thing.

To tear the words from the mouth
of a liar, cheat, chancer and con-man.
Rearrange the words to spell out the truth.
watch the eyes and puffy face spasm,
as if possessed by a phantasm.

If we let it,
reality will eat us whole:
then **** us out.

It grows grim,
that's quite clearly true:
it's hunger's boundless.

A slight chance,
to slow it's rapid charge:
or to turn it's tail.

It lays in us,
a strong counterweight:
small hopes spark.

If we remember,
What brings it power:
is our self doubt.

Floating bloated.
Life aborted.
Rotting sockets.
A bobbing lifeless buoy.
where the river meets
the sewage.

Seas of concrete,
with fish climbing from the cracks.
Evil portent.
Growing hands brandishing knives.
Tongues in their eyes,
that slither with whispering intent.

Each whisper grows a wing
and a leg, hops and *****;
pointless dregs.

Filling each space,
With slashes and wild blind hacks.
Pain important.
Fatally finally stealing lives.
Teeth to their lies,
that leave all life impotent.

Each tooth a flutter free,
weightless fee, rots and drops;
pointless dregs.

I'm sure da Vinci,
would be proud.
To see his name on
this toilet roll dispenser.

Because of course;
grand designs,
genius vision,
Are a clear fit;
for ***** behinds.

I'm not sour,
or looking for revenge
or recompense.
I know it's your fault,
for not being
what I want.

But I will forgive you,
if you given me what I want.
Just change your mind,
change this life's font.

Give me acclaim,
for all my talent's n' passion.
come; see sense,
you know it's
what I deserve ,
n' what I want

And I will forgive you,
if you given me what I want.
Just change your mind,
change this life's font.

Hello, I'm a pair of trousers;
a spot of ink, a stain of curry.
Though of course, not all
at the same time.
For an hour trousers.
For a day ink stain.
For every 5th week a curry stain.

I'd rather be coin in a wallet,
or the sea in the Bahamas.
But I guess I'm **** out
of luck.

On the wall where shadows grew;
Light lightly refracted though windows.
With cups of long cold tea;
where appropriate storms swim.
By a wall where shadows put on a show.

Let slip words aglow,
in skins subsurface shimmer.
Skip, flip, fall and tumble.
To Cracked laminate floors.
Spilling those storms out into the world.
The Sun boils, flowers  and then bows out
to a Gray sickle of the night.

In this world where shadows know;
A little light is all that's needed to nurture
the shadow's show.

You're Always the nowhere
in every location.
An Umbra unspoken:
Pure carbon black.

All the dunes, done and rested.
sand that's travelled and arrived.
Lifting the clouds on a lover's sigh;
to dance around the sun.

Reality and uncle Neville
always seem to disagree.
I guess he can't see the
tree for the tree.

To him,Truth's a transparency
that he cannot see beyond.
He must stay faultlessly opaque.
To the material certainty,
of which he's so fond.

Reality and uncle Neville
always seem to disagree.
I guess he can't see the
you for the he.

The only things that
are real to him,
are those that can be held,
but not felt.
Each alternative truth
is a tree to be felled.

The grim reaper thinks you're a keeper.
with glint of an invisible wink,
twill of the sythe.
Deaths lets you know ;
What the point between
new and old life thinks.

as a rose with no petals,
Post mort charms.
or a bird without wings,
you fall unto deaths arms.

You'll never need to die
again or seek inmortality.
just take this lipless kiss,
bonefull *****.
just let go .
Give your self to something
other than a yes or no.

Love; my friends: is dead.
Though yes, it's corpse still
has clean smooth skin.
Warm to the touch even in death.
Eyes both bright and bold,
all in all perfection unfurled.
But still and Lifeless it lays.

He smiled weakly,
though it was sincere.
Sighed meekly,
burnt out; completely.
But still;
there is something
that made it
worthwhile to be here.

We're just strangers,
who recognise each other.
Time squeezed us together,
then pushed us apart.
But we go on living.
Change is,after all, life's Art.

I don't know if I have any talent.
Or know if what I play, write or draw;
is of any value.
Most likely not;
to the world at large.
I just do that what I do.

Will it bring me my bread?
pour me my water?
No, not at all.

Will the money flow to me?
No, clearly not.
So what does it do?
why is it worth it all?

Because; it is my reason,
my love, my need.
The spark, the birth,
the seed.
My lover, my heart,
my child.

In the a place outside of any place.
In the space between space.
where there was never a point without anything,
or  a point filled with something.
Is the incomprehensible question;
with it's incomprehensible answer.

You may think you have no shadow.
But I see it dancing behind you.
I can't see it's face,
but I'm sure that it's smiling.
But it's no smile of fructose.
Just of bile and scorn overdose.

With topography riding limbs.
In seamless synchronisation
with yourself.
I hear it whisper and hiss,
with sounds of ****** bliss;
At each unseen bruise inflicted.

You're really pretty strange.
The way others speak of you.
Without ever really knowing you,
Or having spent time in your presence.
Often they talk at you,
then listen to you speak.
But seem to hear words
different from the
ones you spoke.

Strange, quite strange.
Though, it seems to work well for you.
Whatever you take or say.
whoever you bruise;
metaphorically or literally.
Is transformed then by some act
of inner god, to acts which
sanctify the passion that
you inspire.
That passion which sparks bonds,
matrimony and procreation.

And yet it seems, as songs
has often said, you really are forever.
Even if you are not with
them forever.

I do not belong;
nor would I want to:
to your flags, regalia
and fanfare.
Your anthems of
passion for
plain dull soil.
Bore my mind
and curdle your thought.

I could not sing;
those songs of unity:
the many words
and melodies of
vicarious triumph,
imaginary victory's.
A vague sense
of something,
of which you're too sure.

I will not hoist;
the fabric symbol:
watch it fold, dither
and ripple.
with the imagined weight
and meaning.
That which you treasure so
deep and dear;
is just a flag in the wind.

A voice from the past in a dream,
a voice not heard for years.
Some “hi” and generally pleasantness,
followed by:
a tale of a German professor,
how his experiment went awry.
All in clear concise German.
I'd almost forgotten that voice,
with syllables of neat acuity.
Giving comfort without a comforting word.
My minds way of  me giving a kind of esteem,  
I cannot really give myself.
As words of another, in a fragment of a dream.

I keep trying to trying to write,
but the words keep running off into
the night.
While I collapse into docility.

It's as if me and creativity have
gone through a divorce.
I guess I must have thought
with a little too much force.

Maybe if I get a late night snack,
the word's will come running
back to take a bite.  
while I burst into verbosity.

Vegetarian sandpaper snake,
opaque as a back ache.
Tied into steam whipped air.

Needles and spokes,
rustled and restless,
concrete and wingless.

Following a Papel sideshow travelling into town
to form a claim of no coherent ambivalence.
With most moist avuncular symmetric denial.

Reclaiming such winkled names in claws.
Reptile claws of rainbow rhythm or
mindless meter.

Needles and spokes,
rustled and restless,
concrete and wingless.

Turning smile as screws eyes are bolts.
Locked out and locked in.

May I borrow a tomorrow?
I'll trade you today and yesterday.
One is worthless,the other's
too much work.
Just give me the result,
without the effort,
and I'll be on my way.

When it falls will it make a sound?

I'm sure that we will hear.

Will it touch the ground?

I'm sure we'll see.

Does it matter in the slightest?

No, not in any great way.
it's all down to the laws of causality.
After all, it's just another tree.
One loss is only a loss,
if it leads to a multiplicity.

Who was it that took axe to bark?

We have no need to know

Why do the deed to bring the fall?

It does not matter; another will grow

will it just stay here to rot away?

No,We'll burn the wood to
be warmed in the cold of night.
To let us see and cook in it's light.
A wrong for our needs,
and our wants is always a right!

Choking in you clothes,
Tight; pretty as a tiger rose.
Wild claws, sharp point needle feet
Slightly reddened, in light of
Blood dead moon; resting on a
Salt grain littered sky
Hurry up n' drink the glass throne pond
Squander its delusion sup
Quickly now fresh prey is nearing
From unnatural light clearing
From the songs of the throng.

Your claws deep in;
Drawing his tin blood
All the wealth, of
Disease potential
Your groans of
Victory.
At the peak of flesh;
Lust referential.

Night; pretty in absence Of days clothes.
Glares darkness through home
Windows.
You prey is consumed withered
And fallen, twisted to a whim.
From snake to worm, birth
Blood stolen from him.
your Tiger rose left him
Sleeping in weakness.
Now hunger freed
Back to the daylight
Life you lead.

When the measure is of a greater
worth than that which is measured,
we will diminish.
The grammar of our time will
be perfect.
Our words will be so refined,
but meaning will be
impossible to find.

The length of us will be the last of us,
the depth of us will be lost on us,
and finally we will be perfect.
Finally we will be empty.

We will live for the moment,
but each moment will be sparse,
we will diminish.
Each thought will be magnificent
in structure.
Our hold on “reality” will be firm.
impossible to transgress,
impossible to learn.

The length of us will be the last of us,
the depth of us will be lost on us,
and finally we will be perfect.
Finally we will be empty.

Look out here
It comes
Sum of someone's sums
Perverse calculation
Trigonometry as sensation
Graphic illustration
Of a pre-ordained mathematic
Desire
Intersexual intellectual
Pythagorean triangle of lust Figures
Add and attract
Add and subtract
Add and subtract
This physical abstract
To form the total goal
To fit the math of a
Human hole

I cannot hear, the past in my rear view mirror;
Nor the wheels rotations,
or motion's sensations;
While under a flower bouquet
182.88cm away from me.

Starry starry lies,
You paint their tombs a deathly grey.
Look on as bodies crimson lay.
With lies that show the darkness of your soul.

Gallows on the hill.
Bodies in the trees countless kills.
Spread disease with inhuman chills.
With ruined streets in a violent land.

We'll always understand, what your actions came to be.
And how your turned you back on sanity.
And how you could lie so free.
They would suffer, but we did know how.
Perhaps you'll suffer now.

Starry Starry lies,
Burning towns in a heat haze.
Panicked streets in violent days.
Refract in Tony's eye's of blue.

Bringing blame to you.
All their tears as falling rain.
You face etched with shame.
Is hidden behind powers roaming hand.

We'll always understand, what your actions came to be
And how your turned you back on sanity.
And how you could lie so free.
They would suffer, but we did know how.
Perhaps you'll suffer now.

The world would be incomplete,
Without starving people
And police sirens ringing
Out across the street.
Or without a wave of anger,
Crashing in a twisting torrent.
Washing any good away.
When you lie or steal,
it's okay as long as you keep it discrete.

Oh, suffer you all, to keep it working.
Sweat all your sweat through your brow,
even though somehow.
It'll stay complete.
To question for a change,
To the world seem so strange.
That if you do so,
You're cut away left to die,
A lonesome stray.

As if she stays.
Ever ever stays.
A written word's waste.
Her good grace,
and mordant touch.
An adagio distance,
with askance persistence.
Craves to never have had,
never had been.

Count the doubles,
and minus the count.
Split the difference,
forget the amount.

It does hold.
hold hold on.
In silence's wordless way.
A slight trace,
my mindful crutch.
A cadence of defeat,
age of the time complete.
A Wish to have forever,
that which was never.

Count the doubles,
and minus the count.
Split the difference,
forget the amount.

God save the Queen,
and **** the NHS.
***** the poor,
revere the wealthy.
Business is good;
the population; unhealthy.
Your  life's duty to the nation;
Work, spend and copulation.

With currency the cutlery,
to carve the nation up.
We have no choice but to
sip  the poison sup.
Turn weak on weak,
Anger from frustration.
In the cold cold heat of
the cruelty of this nation.

******* the Queen,
and save the NHS.
Give the wealth,
to one and all.
Heed this call;
what we need today.
Is to take back power;
so we can give it away!

You're everywhere, man.
I just can't get away.
There when I'm sleeping ,
and at the break of every day.
Hanging in my time,
matching every word I say.
You're everywhere, man.
I just can't get away.

You're everywhere, man.
please just go away.
Take your hand of my wallet!
Get You're you out of my way.
Scrounging a living from
my worth each day.
You're everywhere, man.
please just go away.

When I'm shaving you're
hand is holding the razor steady.
While watching TV you give
me a running commentary.
While Looking in the mirror,
you look on bitterly.
Is there something wrong,
am I not worthy?

You're everywhere, man.
I just can't get away.
In my clothes and shoes,
using the same brands as I use.
Sharing my breath and heart beat too,
I'll curse each day I'm with you.
But I just can't get away.
We are I, yes  that's true.
But I don't want any part of you.
You're everywhere, man.
It just won't do.
You're everywhere, man
I don't want any part of you.

Go on;
swallow yourself whole.
force each tasty piece of *******,
each lie you tell yourself.
Open wide and fit all in.
Gorge on;
your manufactured nuance,
shout the praise of your “brand.”
don't let the real you out;
crush it in your hand.

Yes you are certainly truly;
the forever blameless you.
Not blanched, scared or blemished.
Proudly sweep on through,
the disease and disaster.
here are you: the auteur ,actor,
written, and right.
demonstratively a demon
on a wreck and toll.
A *****-shaper of reality,
Casting a shadow of blight.

Eye light candles,
twisted winking at
whirlpool water walls.
Cracked note sound saliva ,
arrives late in the day.
While the eye light candles'
wax melts to tears.

Free-floating mouths
switch on insincere smiles.
With micro-tonal sneers that
flex in a wind
of pointless perpetuity.

The smile's
smile their smiles.
The eye light candle's
wax tears fall to fate.
A sun wakes and exhales
light; but it's far too late.

Just sitting here,
on a summers day.
With my imaginary girlfriend.
You may see empty space,
but to me it's a beautiful face.
With long glimmering
hair of every colour.

A mind of endless adventure;
she whispers ideas,
offers advice,
and  I listen.
She never needs
to speak twice.

Just sitting here,
on a summers day.
Listening to her;
“ you can write a poem about
me and it will say;”

Just sitting here,
on a summers day....

Words wings clipped,
By a shadows sharp edge.
falling down
to meet history's drowning dregs ,
swim and struggle in the
unseen stream.
Dying alone unheard.
Goodbye; dear word.

A burnt out bulb,
just hanging there.
No more light to share,
or shadows to shear.
No phoenix moment,
Totally spent.

Watching the motorway
from the cafe'.
resting my feet of clay.
Under a sky of clouds,
that some may say,
have silver linings.
But all I can see is the grey.

In lieu of you,
I take an image of
my minds eyes vision.
A perfection
of such delusion,
In lieu of you.

Wax hammers melting under a suspicious sun,
bubbling on the soft tarmac road unspun.
Sarcastic grass struts in impotent arrogance,
at the rustling of a billion pointless paper bags.
As sparkling sin, trusts a single pointless poem.

A round of a-pause on automatic notions of thoughts magic potions,
jury agrees, Faith succeeds; we'll all stop unanimously.
Thinking that clocks will melt and we will not,
Speak on not to save our manners for
other matters.
But the clocks do melt,
along with us.

Though she's softly gone.
There's no watery eyes,
Despairing sighs;
From me.
Just the remembrance
of her touch
and her words.

With affection.
slight melancholy.
That come
with times gift of clarity.

I cannot curse the time spent,
the talk and chatter.
of sense and nonsense,
about what does
and does not matter.

How could I ever see
her in any other light,
when she's the one who
gave these words
to me?