The traditional pattern
of a set to for Nomark is this:
against the backdrop of the giant grift
perpetrated by the grand smug *****
he firmly grasps the wrong end of the stick
which, to be fair, is waved at him enough

A poster child for impotent rage
he’ll berate the checkout staff
about a voucher that’s either expired
or, mired in labyrinthine small print,
doesn’t amount to a free diddly squat

Without the words, the means,
the agency to upbraid the bosses
he huffs home on an overcrowded bus
where not a single other ****** wears a mask

A sideline:
Nomark stands on a horizon
governed by others
and has no fingers of his own to point

Every misbegotten instinct
tells him to run
from these verbose prigs,
but instincts are felt
not read or heard

Nomark squints as there is sun rising,
in colours that chafe
like eighties underwear
that didn’t breathe

He tries breathing
on his own awhile

and i fear when seasons
and anything in particular
changes
its rooted far from rational explanation
reason removed, because i know
change is good
and those things that come with it
i know, i know
twelve thousand fold
for how long have i been told
fearing of change
is folly
when life is change
odd and strange
as paintings by dali

Which algorithm is going to understand me
understand sentiment behind what I do
It is coded for catching the patterns
For them we are just there
to generate the data to process
What insights will they create
about me when I'm just the outlier
they will remove me to get cleaner results
Generalise the problem
that it won't cater to me
technology is not the slave
they make us dance to their tune
We change, as much as they advance
Develop worse habits
change our routines
from when we were in the more happier place
to a place which comes with waves of sadness.

Failure
Too familiar a sensation
One that I could use a vacation
From ASAP
Constantly flooded by thoughts and ways that
I could have done better
But these days that
Go by
In the blink of an eye
It seems that by
The time that I try
To do better I find
That I’ve failed
And if only I could say
that I’ve nailed
Down a way
to rise above that feeling of sadness
If only I could, just once, say I had this
All figured out
If only my actions matched my words in clout
I could, beyond a shadow of a doubt,
Make things right
Take things to new heights
Overcome the petty problems and plights
That plague my every day life
A life rife with strife
Rife with the pain of disappointment
Like a stab in the chest with a butter knife
C’est la vie
Such is life
Mon ami
My friend
But this isn’t the end
No
If you want we can pretend
Though
That it is for just a minute
So let’s stick a pin in it
And come back when we’re done
Because I won’t let it end ‘til I’ve won
At least one time
(Once is better but time rhymes)
Failure
Too familiar a sensation
One I view with indignation
Despite what good can come of failing
Don’t get me wrong though, I’m not hailing
Failure as some great thing
That we should all strive to bring
Into our lives and those around
All I’m saying is that failure is worth its weight in gold
Pound for pound
So I’m told
That failure is experience
Somewhere between godliness and expedience
Hastening our ability to grow
And adapt and come to know
The difference between wrong and right
But even if I know the difference I might
Still **** up and that’s okay
I remind myself every day
That it’s okay to fail
It’s okay that you’re in the part of this tale
Called life that you’ll make mistakes
Like rhyming the above with mushrooms known as shittakes
(Okay that was arguably bad
But sometimes bad rhymes are to be had
When you write at 3am despite needing sleep
But you compulsively keep
Writing; you can’t put down your pen and pad
Oh who am I to kid
Everyone knows that I did
This on my phone
Sitting at home eating garlic hummus alone)
Where was I?
Oh
Failure and success
A state of being best left to be assessed
By the one who seeks to turn his loss into a win
And that’s where we come back to that pin
From before
The one I said we’d later explore
So heed my words carefully
Or suffer more pain unendingly
Life will never treat you fair, fully
So it’s time to start acting comprehendingly
As in: comprehend what your failures will do
When you learn to use them to become a better you
Because life ain’t fair
Accept that and beware
That life may be unbearable
At times
(Just like some of these terrible rhymes)
But you have to find a way
To grin and bear it gleefully
Because as they say
Mon ami
C’est la vie
This is the end
Now
No more pins, rhymes, or lines
Just a bow
And an adieu
And a cow tow
From me to you
So that you take what I have written
And find the thing in life you’ve been smitten
By and do what you love even if you fail
Even if you whine and moan and wail
Until you’re sick and you grow pale
Until you learn to use your failure as a tool
As a unique stepping stool
Onto bigger and better things
Even if your failure stings
Don’t let it hold you down
Don’t let it make you sad and frown
Let it bolster you to try again
And then
When you inevitably succeed
When you’re at the top, when you’re in the lead
You’ll look back and wished you had read
This poem
So if you have sad friends
Show ‘em
This
And they won’t be sad for much more
(Just angry for rhymes made in poor
Taste)
But I promise this isn’t a waste
Of time
I promise this is more than a few words put into rhyme
There’s a point, which is this:
You’re going to try and you’re going to miss
Because failure is an option until it’s not
And when it’s not, there’s your shot
So have a positive attitude
Because life is as good as it’s viewed
—pin removed

there are ribbons of light threaded in your hair
and the clock ticks are synchronized with your touch
I don’t know about the things you used to whisper to me
for now, all I know is how your hellos used to feel
and maybe it’s 3am and it’s too early for you to go
so I’ll ask you to stay until we can get lost again

it’s late to say goodbye now for I left without a word
don’t ask me to stay if you already know that I won’t
I don’t want to get lost again cause I’m trying to find myself
been broken by the consequences I had when I was with you

cold coffee and troubled stares
trying to find the life I lost in our cracked walls
the song we used to yell while cruising in cars
lost in the quiet sadness of the rain
our knees bump against each other and we don’t pull them away
and I keep saying sorry but you don’t hear anything I say

memories keep flashing
I’m trying to shake them off
I know that it’s best when we’re both apart
we keep on hurting each other with words we don’t mean
a sorry won’t fix what’s already been done
when I left I know you’ll be okay
we’ll both be free of what’s been keeping us chained
I loved you for a long time but I know it’s time to let you go
I know you’re already unhappy
you’re just afraid to be alone

but maybe alone is not what I fear
maybe I can’t stand the idea of you being removed from my words
all those years of sunshine so I knew I needed your rain
and maybe your storms were not enough
to chase away the emptiness of the light

I know that you’re a strong independent woman
but what you can’t let go was the fun memories we had
you cling to the words and you dwell in your thoughts
you know you’re so much more than that
but you refuse to take hold of that
we both knew that you don’t need me
but you don’t want to believe that
it’s better this way
we could be on our own, fixing ourselves on our separate ways
why would you run back to the person who broke you?
we both know that the circumstances won’t be better if ever I come back

broken is all I’ve known
cracks spidering across paint-splattered porcelain
and I didn’t mind that I crumbled in your hands
you used to look at me like you knew what I once was
and in all my dreams you drowned me
but I couldn’t take any other hand but yours

Sipping coffee,
staring out the office window
at verdant trees, calm.
Children lay in the streets,
twitching from toxins
filled in their lungs.
A father clutched his two dead babies.
Humanity defeated by hatred,
or money.
Missiles launched,
tomahawks flung in the name of Democracy.
Missiles whose name is stolen,
painted over by Democracy's ****** wake.

But today, I am
sipping coffee,
staring out the office window
at verdant trees, calm.