Chaos is constant,
Liberties are lies.

The volatile nature of the ever shifting storm,
Beats life into a reaction.
Adapt to live,
Concede, change or die.

The rigid line of order,
Keeps the coin from flipping.
Exist within the lines,
Habituate, acclimate  or suffer.

Fall through the metaphysical event horizon or crawl the grey production belt.


Both paths converge and blacken,
The same rust stalks the journey.

Stepping outside the picture,
So vast you could not see.
Always growing larger;
The unstoppable progress of infinite possibility,
Could there really be any consequence?
As a fog within the mist,
A lake under the ocean.
Should we quantify significance?

Pushed or dragged from cries to silence,
No man has had control,
The stream within the river,
Ignorant in its role.

Balancing the scales.
Take from one,
Give the other.
peaceful equilibrium.

The dynamic seesaw of life.
Solve for x, y, z.
Find that which you look for.

But i remain the remainder.
The imbalance in this function.

Blood may be thicker than water,
But i'd rather drown at sea,
Than confined within these walls,
Amidst people forced to love me.

Today I broke bread in the garden of the ******.
I sat and met the devil.
I drank his wine and ate his fruit.
It would do me no favour, to deny generosity of any host.

Today I broke bread in the garden of the blessed.
I sat and met almighty.
I drank no wine. I ate no fruit.
It would do me no favour, to expect the kindness of a stranger.

Today I broke bread in a garden of my own.
I sat alone and silent.
I drank my wine and ate my fruit.
It would do me no favour to dine with those who seek my soul.

Perhaps just one or two,
I drink too much you see.
A quiet beer spirals into bottles of whisky far more often than not.
And tonight,
It certainly did.

Staggering home in the rain,
Unable to walk straight,
Alone in the dark damp streets of my grey city.
I take my phone from my pocket and scroll through my contacts,
A long list of choice,
Perhaps one hundred people.
Ex girlfriends and current pals and those who I got drunk with.

Head a mess and slightly sad,
I scroll through all their names.

Only to feel worse;
Because I don't want to talk to any of them at all.

Together; far away, in the fires we lit,
At the base of our rage, spitting fuel from our lips.
Embraced; our noosed arms, on the gallows we built,
Upon the embered resent, In the dark night, shadow cast by vindication.

The whiplashed words, poison talk,
The frosted glance away, eyes too hot to rest in.
And anger leaves like the fog,
So in blow the winds of vacancy, the empty breeze of sadness.

And i would take all your sorrow, adopt all your miscomforts,
Bear all that you suffer and carry all of your sadness should it do any good.

As i would lie on my back so you may walk over the still smouldering embers, and through the flames of the past.

For i could never watch you burn.


Though your soiled tongue and derelict eyes inform me you could gaze as i would blister, that you could never burn for me: Still I give my back in service, i shall never let you bathe in the hurtfull glare of our fires.

Lay me down and leave me.

Walk from the the salted earth we lived on, on through the meadows i tried to give you.
Escape the skys i could not keep blue for you, clouded by my mistakes, the grey a reminder: i was not good enough.

Now walk amongst the sunshine, over the vast plains of potential,
Unto your final happiness.

I would sit here a thousand years,
Awake in the blaze you left,
Under shadows past and present,
With the weight of all your suffering,
Blackened by ash in silent damnation
Should it give you back your smile.

I wait with all the darkness,
I stay with all the pain,
So you may walk to summer,
And be loved once again.

They need not say anything.

She sits at his side,
Her hand atop his,
Loosely gripped more powerfully than any muscle could manage.

They need not say anything.

She is still, quiet and vacant.
Everything she has: is given to him;
All of her muster,
Her strength,
Her compassion.
Is given to him in a single glance.

They need not say anything.

She watches the glisten of his,
leave his eye,
A hard road fought,
Struggle takes tole.
He battled not for him,
She knows he endured.

They need not say anything.

And they sit through unrest,
More Spartan than Doric.
***** gives him no peace,
There is no comfort in her eyes.

They need not say anything,
There is nothing an “i love you” could add.

Heavy weighs the air of orbits,
So many shared in spin,
Falling through time together.

The half mast flag,
The empty chair,
The fools suffered gladly.

The whisky corked,
The tune unsung,
The chuckle lost to history.


A million fires could not burn with the strength you showed in leaving.
A million men; you were and are,

Each and all worth hearing.



Glorious love,
Has filled this hall.
Strangers, family, friends.
Remember together,
Mourn one and all,
A father, a brother, one Les.

The longest sleep,
Awake inside unconscious.
The soft hole.
The world is numb and i feel it all.

Like moth to light,
Back, back and back again.
To what surely only worsens.
Unto the inanity,
To shortly live. As only the observer.

Inside the inside,
Within within,
Exiting the foreground.

In the unadulterated absence,
Present in the vacancy.
Nirvana.

The only peace i'll ever know.

In numbed time,
The pure unaware.
My moth to my light.

The only peace i'll ever know.

Whatever it takes, to obscure and sedate.
To numb the mind and withdraw from the maze.
Poisoned with all we're taught,
Deep inside,
Our absent thoughts.
Our sober mind is masked by the stench of it.

Little blue,
Morphing you,
The morphine.
I was due.
The subtle numb that drags me away from it.

Anything to blur my gaze,
Paint new portraits of my tedious days.

Blurred and off, vision runs,
eyes are soft my heart is numb.
The touch of life has left me intolerant.

What does it take to obscure and sedate,
To leave behind,
Our mask's in the maze.


Send me to sleep.

There is so little left,
And still much i need to question.
So untrusting of what i can see, hear or touch,
My senses fooled a thousand times and a thousand times again.

Hardened fortifications blossom,
Bringing perpetual reinforcement.
Working for at least a respite,
From coyote hordes outdoors.

Odysseus waits at the gates,
Educated eyes identify his horses,
Staring straight through the belly of the beasts,
Thwarting threats before they take to action.

King in the learned castle,
To never be fooled again.
Entrenched deep in his defences,
Securing solace through his reclusion.

it is lonely on your own

There is so little left,
This gives forth the question,
so untrusting of what i see, hear, touch but feel?
Perhaps the fraud is mine.

Cynical battlements sprout,
With spores of harsh repairs.
Crusading for disenchantment,
Cry wolf and call coyote.

Teach to never looked beyond the gates,
Focus attention in,
Cowered behind walls and towers,
Forever fearful to lower the bridges.

Lord of what little is leftover,
If any is left at all,
Prisoner to himself,
Until he allow himself to leave.

The bottom of the glass again,
Through the crystal design,
An obscure vision,
The world blurred and unaligned.

The sight i see,
Though new today.
Seems all but too familiar.
I obscure the things surrounding me.
I cause them to defect.

Again i left her in her in a place I always seek escape from.
Though unwillingly i must assume,
Perhaps my will transcends me.
It seems more and more that though i see my actions as innocent in my design,
A haze of rose must cloud my judgement.

It leaves me wondering this night.
Am i what i think of me.
Or perhaps here i do not critique myself with any impartial merit.

Yet my lack of pride,
Strange it seems,
Blocks me from another apology.
I often feel my sorries carry less weight than the breathes they ride on.

What worth is a word.
When no-one wishes to hear it.

What worth are my words.
When she may never see it.

I guess in here i address myself,
A man willingly broken.

All anger leaves me now,
In the damaged night i rest in.
And in walks more regret,
And out the one i was blessed with.

Amidst the forever blue expanse,
Upon the raft I built,
Alone I sit, it quivers.

I feel it squirm below myself,
It cries and creaks under the weight.
Beneath it still the emptiness,
The vast and silent water.

Without a noise it calls to me,
I hear it mock my presence.
It laughs that soon the raft will fail.
And this I know too well.
How the sky does weep for me.

No sail or sun to guide myself,
The horizons sarcastic smile.
I witnessed nothing but blue on blue,
Not one fish, nor bird, nor boat.

For years I drift in currents,
None of my design.
Alone and lost,
The Orca came.

Alone together, lost, afraid,
I know she knows my sorrow.
I meet her eyes,
For a moment I feel solitude.
Perhaps my Orca sees me.

But off she swims,
Blind to me.
I watch her leave my presence.
I cannot shout, I know no words.
I forget what it means to talk.

Alone together, lost, afraid.
I know she knows my sorrow.

I sit betwixt the laughters,
The margins in between,
Moments unnoticed,
Those easily ignored.

Attention is drawn to instance,
But must be dragged to dereliction.

Worming within words woven,
Cowering in the safety of kissed teeth,
Solace secured as someone scrutinises how to silence the silence,
Grateful for the respite.



Squeels from the pit of my stomach,
Causing only echoes back from my tongue,
Trickling crude treacle, trawls south back through my throat,
Finding no refinement, reclaims residence in my centre.
Waiting to rejoin the cycle and another all clear for launch.

Traceless transaction as interactions lapse,
The regenerative amnion of your “awkward silence”,
Perspectives polarised,
Unwittingly burying me in the hole you endeavour to fill,
Unable to comprehend the precipitous crevasse simple shovelling could not plug.

The ever exhausting pantomime,
forcibly cast.


So I take shelter in intermission,
Where no one need pretend,
At peace in my own trenches,
As unpleasant as it seems.
No need to scale the embankments for a fool’s run at no man’s land.

Though still a subterranean prison,
The siren call of Stockholm glistens in the gloom.
My magpie’s eye lays yellow bricks forward,
Through a self destructive syndrome,
Easing the path with each retreat.

Remortgaging contentment,
Time and time again.

Addicted to appeasing that tidal will: subconscious.
Welcome the bailiffs later,
To collect debts of regret,
Postponed event horizons,
When I’ve no injunctions left.


If only absence bellowed as loud as laughter.
You would hear me.