An arbitrary hill, the worms crawl
To a vantage point to feel less small
A collection of sound-bites; "they know all"
A congregation so thick as to be a wall

Below-ground, a blind life in the dark
Subterranean legacy, light comes stark
No ocular appendages, just a warmth to lark
There are no ominous portents in which to hark

Under my boots, everyday I feel a squish
Hopes, dreams and the misguided wish
So many lines cast, not enough fish
We dine on one another's dish

And it hurts me everyday
To see #humanity in this way;
Tribalism; '**** the strays'
A self-induced fray

We are backwards
And we are wrong
Check your words
Before you sing a song

Vinyl black as Jet
on Whitby cliffs
the needle smoothly lifts

Then delicately
touchces down like a 747...
to create as sound that's crisp

Feel it's contours
rough yet smooth
serenading your fingertips

Head back
eyes closed
vibrations born from needles kiss

Tranquil in this
midnight hour
cradelled in nostalgic bliss

Free me with your
melodic power
my worries are eclipsed

Grayscale life
stale cardboard bread
lonely nights and years
in a barren double bed

Penicillin dust
lines a heavy chest
cholesterol, palpitations
lipid level function tests

Morose Mondays
robotic ragemes
jaundiced skin
decaying dreams

Mildew eyeballs
cast a sour stare
piercing the haze
of electric blue air

Creaking joints
fading looks
granet heels carved from
ill fitting safety boots

With cold clay
a soul was environed
forging rhymes
from cold pig iron

If life were a cigar…
I’ve taken many slow drags,
Inhaled the sweet, smoky, earthy scent,
Held its warmth in my lungs,
Exhaled its smooth burn,
Watched the smoke leech through my skin,
Felt the cancer spread through,
At the cap it releases the soul left in me.
If life were a cigar…
It’s certainly going to be the death of me.

Gored by the long tusks of tomorrow
lying hungover...
head throbbing
dehydrated and exhumed

Painful memories of the night before
protrude through thoughts
like a starving artists ribcage

I am dead inside...
like a privet hedge
a green shell
with a barren rotten core

Moments of clarity
dance like carrots on strings...

Terminal lucidity
an occasional epiphany
the definition of insanity