So many options hurtle through my mind
Latching themselves to logic for no more than pit stops
Ideas dive through chicanes
And screech around hairpins
And always returning to the same place:
Panic.

As each passes I try to leap aboard
To cling on to speeding concepts
But I am either knocked to the ground
Or flung to the side
And crumple into a rag-doll of
Confusion.

But lying here, wrecked, I lose sight of the race
For a while, the sky, the grass, the air all stand still,
My vision returns, filled now with clarity
Colours contrast and no longer fade
And simply, in the midst of my mistake:
Peace.

I hope one day I will be so in love
So enamoured that I cannot help but write to her

That I cannot resist the urge to describe and
Reinterpret my feelings in the most colourful,
Abstract and simple ways.

That I have no choice but to invent
Tales of being together because I cannot
Bear to be without her even for a day.

That I cannot rest for my pen still
Can't quite capture the essence of
My heart's longing for her.

I hope one day I will feel that
But for now, I must write to a girl of my dreams.

Here, in these ninety minutes,
This means something,
This one shot,
The single chance to prove
That those thirteen days (and a year before)
Were not wasted
Not simply an excuse nor chains
That shackled me to the desk,
To the chair, inside...
This is it,
Do. Not. Mess. It. Up.
Breathe, focus.
Okay.
*"The time is now exactly ten-to-nine,
You may start - good luck."

After school
A girl sits alone
At a piano
And plays
Songs she didn't know
And as she sits there
She learns
How to make beauty
With her fingers
And how it lingers
In the air.

And she never said a word
Without the sound of music in her head
She never gave her heart
Until she knew her blood was red
She tried to open up
But couldn't give enough
Until she found herself on the keys.

They speak of strong and stable
From upon the piles of bodies
Single parents, students, disabled,
All crushed beneath their buddies
Sitting comfortably at tables
Ignoring statisticians and studies
Eating enough to feed the poor for weeks.

They "help" the Just About Managing
While managing the damaging
Of every socioeconomic security
"For the good of the country" - false purity
All hints of injustice swept quickly aside
With an aside, a joke, to hide the domocide
Avert the eyes, from the resounding bell toll
As the death toll climbs, losing control

There is no war here, no battle, no fight,
Only poverty and hunger - the trophies of the right.

Sick of politics?
Remember when you're sick
You could have voted.

Tired of policies?
Remember when you collapse
You could have voted.

Bored of arguments?
Remember when we're divided
You could have voted.