lightning doesn’t strike twice
two feet and two knees that nobble occasionally,
and chatter like teeth in an arctic freeze.
Together in harmony.
Now since the rain clouds
washed those other clouds away,
and you were drained.
When you breathed a rainbow,
golden soul,
and drew the route of you in the window,
pain.
Primary coloured moments;
exposed in chrome,
caught in time,
no remains.
But then the stars and superlatives came to play.
And the memories fade.
When the night first spoke and the sun laid to rest.
He spoke of Moondust and mistrust of the Government.
They told him once,
and they told him twice,
that science could only be defined by what we know.
So he searched the stardust on the seabed,
and seeked what he sowed.
Oceans away from home,
only to piece together tiny shards of shattered stars,
with those telescopic time machines that he used to own.

Synchronitities

It's 11.11 again,
AM through to PM,
Just to see you again,
In all your simplicities.

11.11 again,
Now tell me what's the relevance,
When I see you there,
Lying in sentimentality,

You got the 411,
Telling me just about anything,
That you can breath,
Steals your rationality.

11.11 again,
The sentence that won't ever end;
Caught up in a comma coma,
Blinded by the clarity,

11.11 again,
I seen it on the TV screen,
What does it mean to you & me,
Simple sequenced synchornities

I realised I couldn't make change,
So I stopped trying to make it,
Now I walk past outstretched hands,
Born to make mistakes.

To take the time to discover the world before we lived in today,
That exists before us,
There so much more,
But have those ancestors ever mattered less.
The history lesson
Feels like detention,
People careless now than they ever did before

And that's no metaphor,
For peace or freedom,
Emancipated in the dawn of mind
But will my generation make more change than the one before.

We heard Cassius clay,
Make that change - from his slave name to rounding an army -
Followers Muhammad Ali.

We heard Malcolm X,
Make that change,
People looking at him strange when he took aim at the oppressors.

We heard Marcus Garvey,
Make that change,
Force thoughts through a better day,
To escape that pain.

We all heard Snowden,
Make that change,
Expose the corrupt,
But he's the one they want to put it in to chains.

We heard Bob Marley,
Trying making that change,
Emancipate from mental slavery,
Of the mistakes our ancestors made.

Now it's time for you and I,
To make that change,
Follow in the footsteps that were left to guide the way.

you say you paved the way for me,
with a bicycle on the motorway,
and a lorry on a cul de sac,
thats one way for
the light to illuminate the dark streets.
apparently,
but then when pieces didn’t fit together,
like lego blocks as kids,
you left me in my teens,
when I needed you still.
and ever since
still water runs deep,
i drowned without you around.
when simplicity was a gift horse we stared
in the wide open mouth.
you stayed still,
i moved south.

we no longer talk often.
I gave up on you,
after you replaced me so hastily,
when you gave up on me,
and i thought you hated me,
what will be will be.
maybe.
I saved my best trick,
for the encore.
you wanted more from the performance.
it dawned on both of us that,
the camels back broke from
straw stories told over
and over again.

now you look at me strange,
when you look up and see me at something,
you never asked me to.
old bitter blue,
eyes,
wide,
surprised that i made it -
without you
almost frustrated,
i never doubt you too,
i just did it with or without you.
so i won’t shake your ageing hand.
respect speaks for it self.
it’s a two way street.
Not a cul de sac.

Some roads you go down and theres no turning back.

her lies taste like sweet nectarine,
those discreet kisses on my neckerchief,
make up on the pillows,
tears inside the handkerchief,
folded over and over to compress our fears into make believe,
in origami,
the patterns left,
embedded in my chest,
alieness to something,
but so close to where you used to be.

normality isn’t the same as the chaos we evade.
The truth is, normality alludes us,
we are formed beyond our minds declination.
Somebody stole my freedom,
using outside of the box thinking,
in your mind and mind.
And I was minding my business,
just trying to take my own sweet time, again.
and deja vu came through the window, again.
the repetition of the rain
cool calm and collected,
the pain subsides,
when i lived in my hiding place
and the raindrops made the gutters flow.

obviously,
yet never expected;
is it you? is it true?
the juxtaposition of you.
but they stole our souls before they attacked the weakened body.
We didn’t hear them coming through the car crash TV;
Are you and I the zombies?
Is your mind in control,
do you mind if they take control,
or do you not mind at all?
When the mask falls the I hide behind isn’t alien in dreams.
not who i saw in the soul.
is it true, deja vu.
so benign in idyllic lies,
a million miles away.
tribes hide behind nothing but a little something to be unique,
maybe a little something else
to be discreet.

But other than that,
food and air,
and company.
there’s not much else we need.
Make up?
Make up your mind -
who decided who you needed to be
it certainly wasn’t you.
Lost in the illusion of choice,
like deja vu,
like Descartes knew,
in collusion with the muse of normality,
by what is true to you,
not actually the truth.
it’s the perfect ephiany in alliance with deja vu.
but what came first ?
my mind, or yours,
through closed doors of inspection;
deception - they let them tell them.
inception - they let them tell them
And I know this fact to be true,
because I’ve seen you in dreams before
and I couldn’t believe my eyes;
or change my view.
I couldn’t believe it was you,
deja vu,
deja vu.

when it hit you home.

you’re eyes closed at shutter speeds,
when the heart sinks,
or sank.
and each blink individually,
starts to take a second of your life from me,
frivolously.
and your mind focuses,
but like a broken lens,
you nictate, nictate,
like you’re stuck on repeat.
and you dictate the aftermath,
like you have admitted defeat.
as cynosure slips from your fingertips.
the closure in the locus.
you spoke to me in hindsight,
and you spared me in the moment.
still glowing, albeit, caliginously.
you described the bright lights in defiance,
lying sweetly,
in a conversation, in constellations,
i’ll remember you in full bloom;
in keepsakes;
we wished to the the stars aligned,
shining flowers for you in the nights sky.
whilst you fought for your life, in kind.
high as a kite, twinkle in your eye,
as you guide your life
away.
still in spite,
of your perdition,
the latest addition of you.
when i see you in ruin.
through the body as it mortifies,
and your fortified smile,
tortured denial,
a defiant forcefield,
shatters and eviscerate,
and as you evaporate;
i see your lips crack through dryness,
my queen and highness;
i’ve not seen you laugh for a while.
and as I see time pass,
from you astute,
a calmness in your eyes grew,
and now when you belly laugh,
you gasp for air,
it’s as if,
not much is inside there.
as you stutter and stammer,
judgement impaired,
scared.
and yellow coloured,
tinged skin,
bed ridden
in affliction,
to me,
to you.
as it dawned on me
and then it dawned on you.
when it finally hit you home,
nothing left but skin and bones,
the final petal of a rose,
fell.


**I still miss you.
I miss you still.
I always have,
always will.

Could of been your fool,

It could of been me,
or it could of been you,
I never knew it then,
but I could of been your fool.

You had this attitude
that was pretty rude,
I pictured you in platitudes,
but the latitude cut right through
the altitude,
and you just slipped right through.

Now you long for the truth,
and
i’m,
just
long in the tooth,
who knew then, that,
if we didn't pretend,
then I,
could of been your fool.

Flying above you
where the air is thin,
there in;
I cast the final sin.
Simply defined,
it looks like you win,
again,
&

I’ll always be your fool.