Tuesday, 30 November 2010

Footprints In The Snow

Footprints in the snow,
Crisp, fresh, romantic,
Snowed over or melted away,
Gone for no one else to see;
No one else to know,
In love trying too hard,
Ultimately ending up being pedantic,
As it fades - it is always better not to stay,
Open your eyes and you will agree,
Fain fake love just for show,
The wounds still ache:
The buried glass shard,
Defining true love is just being semantic,
Happiness is for what we all pray,
Allah, Buddha, The Holy Trinity,
Sometimes it is best if you just go,
True for both our sake,

Don't think that as I lie awake,
That I will ever forget,
Guilt might fall and upon me beset,
I can't hide all pain when it doesn't go right,
But I will always try my hardest and with all my might,
Let us just live and hope,
That one day or one night,
That you will realise and see,
That what I did was right,
I didn't do it selfishly,
I didn't just do it for me.


A woman;
A woman that cannot be mistaken for any other,
A woman;
A mother, sister, A wife,
A best friend,
And a lover.

Black hair flows from the top of her head,
Tears from the gods,
Cascading down over a glistening gem.
Upon her face;
A Sistine chapel of beauty,
Homer's The Odyssey her grace.
Intense and deeply intellectual,
This perfection can but only tempt a man;
Renounce his faith: Believe no longer,
As is said of The Dead Christ in the Tomb;
By Hans Holbein the Younger.

Felicity, inspiration, mirth and monad-ism,
Gifts she doth possess and radiate out,
These and more are still but a few;
Each day something new, to those -
To her devout.
A prescience to love,
Inflicting purpose to the soul,
No fight given against the prescription.
Betwixt a mother and the Madonna:
Blessed with a kiss of light from above.

A muse breathing soft music,
Into the heart and soul;
Candlelight flicker through window pane,
On a dreary, dark, and stormy night.
Against her bosom out of cold wind chill,
Kisses so soft, aeriform, and light,
As dogs bark at a moon beginning to wane.
Loves ethereal presence,
Ever living: Never ceasing,
Pure, perfect, never vain.

Two paradigms each depicting a perfect world,
To view is to suffer great affliction,
A man sees Heaven looking through the skies.
The paragon of a woman,
Life loses all meaning gazing into her eyes.
Aphrodite, Ishtar, Inanna,
Astarte, Isis, Venus and Freya,
As Hathor she fills the soul,
Through a motherly love she draws out;
Everlasting affinity,
Perfection personified she is saviour and slayer.
She is a woman.

A woman that cannot be mistaken for any other.
A Woman.
A mother, sister, a wife.
A best friend.
A lover.
A woman, perfect, unlike any other.

Friday, 26 November 2010

The Stray

The sun comes and goes,
Breaking apart the darkness;
Within my world,
I block it out hiding in the shadows,
As the soft white velvet cloaks the world,
I sit here in solitude.
Emptiness and loneliness:
My only faithful emotions,
Pushing me evermore into the arms of despair,
I feel at home most within these;
Cold dark nights.
Destined to walk this Earth on my own.
If you love me let me go,
Like I will do for you.
I don't want to live life this way,
Never seeing or being;
Big talk and little action,
Both clinging to the edge;
Of a falling building.
Salvage what we can before time crushes it all.
I have no words to say;
No speeches to make:
No words can replace the pictures that should be,
All they create is barricades,
A ghost in your world,
Just an echo in your mind.
I become the anchor - Weighing your ship down,
If you aren't careful it will sink;
Falling deep into a sea of hate,
As the waves drown memories of happiness,
And the currents pull you away,
From memories yet to be seen.
You are free,
Free to be and free to live,
Don't wait up for me,
I am of no worth here,
Slipping away back into the shadows,
From where I watch and wait,
Emptiness and loneliness,
My doppelganger and I,
We are an empty vessel,
Our world our home: a bed,
To which better dogs lie.

Tuesday, 23 November 2010

Where Our Scrapyard Meets The Earth's

Earth's turbines and engineers,
The hustle and bustle from below deck.
I stroll alongside the magnificent machine,
I hear it all;
The roaring: consistently in the distance,
Waves fighting;
Clambering over each other to the shore,
The wind bites at my ear;
Causing great pain and headache,
The crows pick through the litter,
Strewn across this mechanical wasteland,
Like vultures picking at a corpse,
I meander through;
Pebbles, rubbish, seaweed,
Blocks of concrete, bricks and driftwood.
The dunes give way to cliffs of clay,
Being eaten and ebbed by the tide.
Such a beautiful machine,
Such a beautiful monster.

Sunday, 21 November 2010


As bright cloud filled sky,
Plays melodies of rain,
Ballet dancing birds fly,
Water kisses against window pane.

The clock marches on,
As the silence screams,
Not a soul: Everyone gone,
All that is here is memories and dreams.

This is not a place of sadness,
Nor is there any space for badness,
A place to find love this may be,
A refuge for those tired and lonely.

I search empty rooms for you my dear,
Corridors long tunnels at the end is light,
Not a soul: You were never here,
Cowering in darkness I wait out the night.

Derelict and empty with the dust I belong,
Walking the halls and every corridor,
Until death comes fading away to your song,
Life spent - taken away: The wave against the shore.

Death - As in life I shall love you evermore.

Saturday, 20 November 2010

My Doppelganger Plots

The branches of the trees
Spreading across the night sky
Black spider webs reaching out
Fencing me in and keeping him away
The sky is a pastel evergreen
Reaching up into the black
Wood creaks and the rain
Slowly dripping down
Oozing out of the nothingness
Sinking slightly into the sodden earth
I dare not move
Nor breathe too deep
Fear surrounds me
As the black closes in
A rustle or crack of a branch
Fallen under foot nearby
I freeze trying to make not a sound
Fear surrounds me
Did he hear
Can he see me
Vulnerable and alone
My thoughts turn mutinous
He is behind me
I can hear him
His breath upon my neck
Wood creaks and the rain
Cascades down the mud covered walls
Of my shallow grave
Silently we both stand
Over my shoulders water
Falls from his nose and down my spine
The soaked leaves on the ground behind
Cry out to me
As he slowly moves
He has waited for me
Under the black web
And by the green skys light
I try to scream
To shout for help
No words come out
Not even a sound
As the air rushes into my lungs
My eyes close slowly
Shutting out the black and grey
The trees and bushes in the wood fade away
Fear grows as I open my eyes
There I stand
A silhouette against the black and green sky
Black webbed branches reaching
Out and through this shadow
As I raise my arms above my head
The mud covered boulder in hand
My defence is futile
The pain so intense
But only a memory
As the silence is broken by constant ringing
And the black
Washed away with white

Through the trees in the wood
By the black and green sky
Under the black webbed canopy
My ghostly twin is watching

To My Best Friend. From The Worst Friend You Have Ever Had

You were my best friend in the whole wide world,
The best friend a person could ever have,
I used to laugh at your expense,
I laughed when you fell down the hill drunk that time,
I laughed when we scared you,
I laughed when I drunk all the alcohol in your mothers flat,
I sniggered with the person that stole your bike;
And then fell out with you because the police showed up at mine.
I was always bad to you and never nice;
But you were my best friend:
My only true friend - Like a brother to me.
We used to sit all day,
Drinking cider and smoking weed.
My mother thought you were sweet.
Your mother hated me and eventually banned me,
From your flat.
I remember all those times with you;
Sitting on benches bleary eyed.
Eating sun-lollies until they were all gone,
We would talk for hours if not days;
About everything possible:
Theorising, deciphering and sometimes just chatting.
Do you remember that time?
At our wake and bake;
When Andy nearly died,
And we were screaming at those people to come and help.
You just slapped him really hard and he came round,
We held it in;
But laughed so hard together,
After he had left.
We sparred together at the bandstand,
Tagged the sea castle and the side of Louise's.
Do you remember knocking up chinky Tony,
The temple, The bench behind Becky's house,
The rope swing in the woods, the hide under the spa?
Do you remember any of this?
I remember so much;
And regret so much more.
You were a friend for life,
A true friend.
I don't know you now;
And you don't know me.
I miss the times that we spent together,
As a friend I should have treated you better.
Times change and we all grow up;
I suppose.
I was just writing to see if you were still alive,
I hope your not yet dead.

Untitled 2009/10

There is only one feeling that I fully understand. This feeling doesn't have a name and could closely be associated with a feeling of being lost.
I am lost,
Lost within a place,
A place.
A place where those that are noticed are those getting blown by the wind and those doing the blowing.
I'm round the corner where there isn't any breeze.
I could blow my own?
Where would I go?
I could make my way into the open and wait to be picked up by a gust,
Or I could just disappear;
And find somewhere new where the weather is different.
I don't think I know what I am doing;
And I don't think I can change.
It has been like this for so long:
I don't think I could change.
I don't think how I am is so bad,
I just want to be able to maintain this level of control,
I don't want people to see all of me.
I have no one who really knows me.
They say family and friends know you best but mine don't know me at all.
No one knows the pain and anguish:
No one knows how I really think or feel.
If I try explaining they just don't get it.
I try my best to hide my feelings but;
This mask isn't really me,
And just leaves me looking weird.
I feel weird,
And I act weird.
I get giddy and laugh and be silly.
I always try to smile:
This is me.
This is me.
This is me.
This is not me.
This might as well be anyone because that's who I can be.

Friday, 19 November 2010

Loves Young Dream

I love you like I love myself,
Not at all and with no remorse,
You fill my time and give me something to do,
You are food for thought and;
Experiences and memories from which I will draw upon,
During dark and lonely nights,
I would like our love to be a fairytale,
But instead it is just a dream,
And just like waking from your slumber,
It will be over and all gone;
Think not of me with hate -
Filled thoughts of revenge,
But think back to those times,
Of which we laughed and joked,
For memories begin at the end

New Leaf 30/7/2007

Today's the day that I will wake up happy,
I really wish someone would slap me.
How can this be,
It has happened to me.
Yesterday there was none, Today!
My life and fulfilment,
Feel as if they are one.

Now there is no need to show greed,
I have all that I need,
And what I need is me, my wife,
And not no weed!

I am happy like this,
Not taking the piss,
Working hard with hand and knife,
And coming home to be with my wife.

Not yet have I had my fill,
Today I wake up happy,
And so tomorrow I will.

Little Boy 13/7/2007

I wish I could fly away,
To a place that is happy and gay.
I wish I could forget this pain;
Wash it away and down the drain.
I wish I could do what is right and good,
I am trying hard like I know I should.
I wish I had a family that loves and cares,
Instead of one all about splitting hairs.
I wish I had my very own path,
I tell them out loud but they just laugh.
I wish I could fill them with happiness and joy,
But alas I'm just that naughty pathetic little boy.
I wish I was alone in the woods,
I'm just another of them people under the hoods.

I wish I wasn't one of many,
I'd rather be part of a few.
I wish I didn't have any,
Except for me and you.

Odd Man Out 13/7/2007

Who are these people,
Who call themselves family.
Who are these people,
Who call themselves home.
Who are these people,
Who smother and surround me.
Who are these people,
Who leave me cry alone.
Who are these people,
This union of three.
Who are these people,
If only I had known.
Who are these people,
I wish they'd let me be.
Who are these people,
Such little things make them nag and moan.
Who are these people,
Please come and see.
Who are these people,
This union of three.
This union of three;
Not including me.

Inside My Head 13/7/2007

Today I felt like suicide,
But what battle would that have won,
I wish I'd curled up and died,
But sadly that could not be done.

These thoughts and feelings inside my head,
I sit here wishing people were dead.

I want all these emotions to be calmed,
The way it's going something will be harmed.

All these arguments going on with me,
Glaring my way what good will it do?
I just wish I could see;
Wearing the other shoe.

My heart has no place to call home,
I feel so unwelcome and cold,
I should be left out to roam,
Until I am worthless and old.

Today I felt like suicide:
But I didn't go through with it,
Something inside did - And died.

About Me 2/10/2006

I am not who I want to be,
Who I am should not be me,
Or should I say -
Who I am is more of a 'we',
Get close and you will see,
I am good and I am bad,
But both are me,
Problem is;
Which one should I be?
If 'we' meant I was three,
The third could tell me;
Which one to be,
But until that is me,
If you get close you can see,
I am not who I want to be.

Recent Days 1/10/2006

Recent days;
Since I put the fires out,
My life in ways has flourished;
Without a doubt.

Recent weeks;
As a person I have grown,
My ship still leaks;
But now I am not on my own.

Recent months;
Since we started dating,
My heart feels freed -
From the walls and gating;
so forward we go - No time for waiting.

Recent years;
My life has come to bloom,
In the times before we met;
I was on the path to doom,
But now I have love ~ So there is no room.

Natures Change 13/9/2006

The rustles within the tree,
Bring forth new conflict,
The fox and the badger -
Need be culled for sake of dove and hedgehog.

Both squirrels live within the forest,
The red:
He grew with and shaped the branches of its trees,
The grey:
She came and breathed life into its soils.

Now the forest;
United as one,
Within its branches there sits a dove,
Singing the song of growth;
And moving on,
Grey is the squirrel:
She is my love.

Untitled 2007

As I sit here in myself
I begin to worry
About myselfs mental health.

I don't fit into this world which I am a part. I want to go far but to do so means to forget so much and learn a whole new way of life. I worry though that I would be unable to escape my vices and the people I call friends; who are in most cases - but many feel you are indebted to them and try to hold you back. I need to learn my vocation to move out of this rut. To grow and understand you must look with your eyes but also your ears and see with ears as if they were extra optics. Narrow-mindedness will lead to nothing but your own reflection.

Ghosts Can Also Suffer From Schizophrenic Episodes 21/10/2007

I am lost like a grain of sand upon the beach. To be a better person is what I dream to achieve but still I submerge myself into the giant teat of the underworld. Whenever an opportunity rears its head I automatically bury my head and assume the guise of my seedy criminally minded alter-ego. The influences pushed upon me by my surroundings are slowly forcing my spirit to collapse and I live with the fear that it will one day cease all together. I can hear my ghost when I become encompassed by the infinite being that is nature. To understand and follow what my ghost dictates would not be a good idea as sometimes my seedy criminally minded alter-ego has his say!

To Whom It May Not Concern 26/1/2008

Onward I walk over dunes and sand; through trees and grass. Onward to a destination I know is inevitable. Where my journey will lead me I do not know. Hard is the path of a man that wants it all yet desires nothing. Dreams of a land the same as I see before me only shaken into something new. Beaches riddled with forests of evergreen. Mountains topped with endless meadows and fields. Cities at a standstill as an innumerable herd of animals meander through gridlocked traffic. Cityscapes lining the rainforest canopies. A statue erected to a great soul in the middle of a desolate frozen tundra. Wars only fought on a checker board. Soldiers carved of stone. Onward I walk in search of a place unknown.

The world in front is empty,
To fill it quickly -
People often try to tempt me,
The world inside is;
Where I be,
Able to survey this land;
Through everything I see,
This is not what is real;
What is real is that no man is free!

To Whom It May Not Concern 25/1/2008 (2)

I see great beauty in every thing. From the birth and death of all that lives to the world itself. What seems inanimate is constantly changing like that of flowers coming into bloom and eventually wilting. What has gone before did till the land and their spent lives do make it fertile. This is not a cycle but a process that creates an infinite of unique outcomes. The man-made woodlands and streams echo that of natures in function and form. The say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder but it is also the eye and the beholder. A rose is considered a beauty for the vibrancy of its bloom's colour, yet to see a human spill this colour from their body is deemed horrific. Beauty makes everything what it is?

Beauty is more than skin deep,
It is the world around us,
And the company we keep.
Beauty glistens in the tears,
Of those who weep,
Without it life is cheap.
Beauty is as beauty does,
Beauty is in all of us!

To Whom It May Not Concern 24/1/2008

I can feel something growing within me. Consuming me like a disease. My body; no longer do I feel invincible. My life is in decline: death only thwarted by my desire to feel its coming. Is this life what the religious call purgatory? Are my best days behind me? Only when I have suffered enough shall I be deemed worthy to see what is next. I often long to feel great pain, like that said to be experienced before death; but for fear I could not analyse it after prevents me from doing so. Tomorrow I think I shall explore this lump developing over my breast-plate. I pull and squeeze at it but nothing has come about. Tomorrow I shall expose it to something sharp. I feel proud to look back on some of my achievements in the field of home surgery!

I fear the horrors of life,
Yet I long to feel the blade of a knife,
Plunged through my skin,
To rest deep within,
If I then felt my life drain away,
Would I scream to the heavens and pray,
That it all be a dream and;
That my soul can but stay.

To Whom It May Not Concern 25/1/2008

I want to float away with the wind. Tearing through clouds heading to an unknown destination. I can relax my whole body and glide limp through the currants like the fluttering appendixes of trees. I can see whole continents from up here but none seem as desirable as they might once have been. All I care for is to continue floating in this gaseous ocean that is the sky. Up here I remember nothing and learn everything for I am a God in my own realm. The clouds are my carriages that carry me up to the stars. The blues skies like the tranquil long forgotten lakes of afore. I look up as if to ask for more. I never look down for I do not belong to this world!

I dream my dreams but during the light,
Flowing from my soul like streams in the night,
In hope they glisten and twinkle bright,
Before I can realise they're out of sight,
I try with all my might,
all of them swept into the endless white.

Our Father Who Art In Heaven - Keep It Down!

The world has never met a more hilarious man.
To see the world through as narrow a vision as he,
Even through spectacled eyes clear and cleaned so meticulously,
His vision jaded by newspaper reels -
Scaremongered by disenchanted stories,
The fires fuelled within the small factory;
Within which lies his office,
Penned in behind a large black desk,
There he sits - trapped,
Inebriated by horror stories of heroin,
He struggles with the four-piece puzzle,
Forcing the pieces together, He sees;
An image not seen by any man before,
As it burns into his mind,
His lips curl under and;
The grip on his palm tightens:
Salivation control slackens -
As he dribbles and splashes his fury,
Only he has seen the truth,
And upon a threatening stance,
He will aggressively defend his hill;
A mountain - So high and mighty!
To see it would be to double at the knees:
Begging for saviour from our jaded oracle,
He who can see with unclouded vision;
A vision so astute: the twenty-twenty -
jaws would drop in awe,
It cannot be seen what he sees,
All other eyes hazy with the first-hand,
Glaze of the contemptible world beneath his hill.
Attempts to climb this hill:
A mountain of pomp and misinformation,
Fail as his foes fall through,
Cracks in his world -
Filter through nightmarish dreams,
Of his make-believe reality;
Pathways paved with misinformation,
Built upon with the subsequent,
Absurdity of lies that follow.
His mind rolls over back to one again.
Poison is what he preaches;
Words and views encapsulate all ears -
That dare hear like shackles,
Dragging souls down into the monotony,
Repetition and monotony,
Repeating with monotonous overtures;
What he conjured up in his world,
Spreading his half-truthed manure,
Over new times and time again.
Behind the walls of his factory,
Past machines pumping out slop -
To the dull weak whir of rusted cogs,
Up iron stairs just holding under foot;
To an office populated by only,
By an ebony desk pulled into;
The corner far,
There cowers the foetal oracle,
Upon a bed of newspaper,
Rage in his eyes,
Lies spew from the man,
Fuelled on lies.

Thursday, 18 November 2010

Trying To Lose Myself

On boat, car and train,
I travel many different places,
And I travel back again,
No matter where I am going,I am always on my own,
It is quite a lonely existence,
Travelling to unsympathetic engine drone,
I travel for many reasons,
Some reasons big and some reasons small,
But the only real reason I travel for,
Is to escape from it all.
I travel many places,
Some places near and some places far,
I had planned to travel Europe,
Until drink driving cost me my car,
I've picked up rides from strangers,
I've lied and told them tales of woe,
'As far as you can' or 'anywhere' I have said,
When asked where I wanted to go,
I have never really had;
A specific destination,
All this really is;
Is expensive procrastination.
My journeys lead me full circle,
I always end up back at home,
Going round and round like a cyclist,
Inside the velodrome,
I hope and pray that one day,
I will justify this cost,
And go - leave;
Never to return -
Hopefully get lost!

Sunday, 14 November 2010


I do not belong in this place. I look in the mirror but I don't see my face. All I see is a man, a man I don't know or recognise. I look him in the eyes. I try to figure him out. He could be anyone, do anything. He isn't though. He just stands there. He just wont go. He smiles: How can he be happy. He has nothing and nowhere to go. He has a life somewhere, but for it he has nothing to show. At the toss of a coin he could be this or be that; but he knows that he will never go anywhere. He needs direction, 'get up and go', to move his feet. Stop being a doormat and pick himself up off the street. This man, this man who stares at me day after day. This man is me, Dave.
Each morning Dave wakes up; before eleven-thirty but never before nine. He will make a cup of tea and a bacon and egg sandwich with tomato ketchup or brown sauce. After having had his breakfast Dave will often walk out to the woods. Dave enjoys setting snares in a feeble attempt to catch rabbits. He has yet to catch any. Sometimes he doesn't set any snares and just walks about. Dave used to walk the beach. This was until the dog died. Dave has no job. No savings. He drinks more than Dave should. He is known to sporadically indulge in drugs. This includes a particular penchant for skunk and other people prescriptions. Dave often dreams. He spends the time by himself thinking out scenarios for events that will never take place during confrontations that wont occur. Dave spends the rest of his day trawling the Internet for entertainment, porn and cheap medicines. This all under the guise of job searching and the sending out of C.V's. By five O'clock Dave is drunk. He will continue drinking until the point at which he falls into a deep sleep. This will happen and he will spill the contents of drink in hand over himself. He will then retire to bed. This has been Dave's routine for nearly two years now. Dave was content with his life. Dave was happy within his own personal purgatory.

Thursday, 2nd December. 2010.

As Dave returned home from the woods. Rucksack with snares and other equipment, bits and bobs, and a bottle of strong dark rum, on shoulder. Still yet to catch a rabbit and with only a third of his bottle left. Dave struggles with the key to his bedsit. Dave unlocks the door eventually. Looking up as he pushes the heavy wooden door open he sees something peculiar. A plastic wallet with some paper inside folded in half and stuck to his door. He takes it from the door and follows it inside. Struggling to see straight Dave understands what the letter is for. Dave is being evicted. Dave finishes his drink and begins pouring another.

Friday, 17th December. 2010.

The morning is bright and crisp. There is a light frost over the grass and footpath alike. It is a silent morning with little sound other than that of a light breeze and the slight crunch underfoot of the mornings frost. The landlord walks up the path. Reaching the door he stops and pull out a large set of keys. Sifting through the keys he eventually picks at one. Inserting it into the lock and opening the door he stops. Dave is still in the bedsit. Body swollen and looking bruised all over. He lies legs outstretched diagonally down the sofa. Dave looks like he could fall off at the drop of a hat. His eyes grey and turned up at the ceiling. Mouth open just ever so slightly with traces of vomit in the corners. His trousers look soiled but to what extent cannot be determined due to the overpowering odor of rancid rotting meat. Upon the low coffee table in front of Dave lies one empty bottle of rum, one empty bottle of gin, two and a half empty packets of cigarettes, three medicine bottles and a note. The note on the coffee table had a few lines scribbled out here and there and a few more on the back. All that was legible read '1 and a half years and not one rabbit'. Dave was cremated by the state after no family or friends could be contacted.


You are a rose without any thorns,
No matter where you are or what you do,
You shine with a never ending beauty,
A beauty that radiates through,
Your life is a dance, a play, a ballet,
Turning darkness to light,
Bringing colour to grey,
Everything you do you do it beautifully,
Everybody stops when it is you they see,
You look so elegant and;
You move so gracefully,
Just near you I so long to be.

You are the Autumn in all its glory,
Beautiful, vibrant, fresh and free,
A full spectrum of colour,
You are each leaf that leaves the tree.
As clear as the purist spring water,
A gift from Gods so heavenly,
To be a mother to every daughter,
An angel of Eros,
Hark! Herald the decree.

The face of an angel,
And the smile of one too,
Nobody could ever compare to you,
Your mind is amazing as well~ I tell this to all,
This smile that you spread so pure and true,
Crushes all evil and lets the weak stand tall.

You are as beautiful as beautiful can be,
Ever changing as the sands of time fall,
But forever beautiful you will eternally be.

Free To Share

They can't see what I don't let them see,
The only way would be if they were me,
I want someone to know:
Someone to show,
What I am inside,
In this place that I hide,
But no one cares,
No one wants to see,
Give me a chance,
Let us both be free.

Thursday, 11 November 2010

Leave Me Be

What happened has happened and it is in the past,
Things didn't work out and it didn't last,
You are happy and no longer sad,
This is a good thing of which I am glad,
You have you own life,
In which I wont interfere,
But if you ever need me,
I will try to be here,
I do not expect anything from you,
So please try to,
Not expect anything from me,
Lets just live our lives,
Friends I'm sure we can be.

The Place

Btwixt the beach and the brine,
The pier and thee,
There lies a place people seldom see,
A paradise oasis overlooked by dune,
A place so still: forgotten by time,
A place at its best from July to June,
This place is a gift given to a few,
this place that I know so well,
also known by you.

This is the place where all woes are lost,
washed away by the tide,
come stay for a while,
I go: And from the world I hide,
Nothingness and beauty as far as I can see,
This place lit by Angels good grace,
This place is my felicity.

To this place I return day after day,
I've often prayed for death,
so in this place I can stay,
Let the sands cover my body,
And become my tomb,
I feel so safe: A baby in the womb.

Up at the sky I search for the truth,
Tears fall in eulogy for a disenchanted youth,
Lost in a sea of grey, white and blue,
I sail for hours,
Reborn I become; soul clean and anew.

This place carries no emotions,
Other than devastation and joy,
A place where a man can live as a boy,
A place so perfect and heavenly,
A place btwixt the beach and the brine,
The pier and thee,
This place is for you;
This place is me.

Wednesday, 10 November 2010


Out of the darkest light,
There shines the muse - Angelic and bright,
Eyes deep; glistening with the fires of hell,
Yet a face that says from heaven she hath fell.
With innocence and knowledge partnered in equality,
To my soul she doth bring great harmony,
Words to my spirit the muse does speak,
Here to breathe strength into all that is weak.
Beauty like no other: ran through with the perfect blade,
Out of the Angels very own love she is made.
Without the muse I cease to exist,
Without the muse I am but a shadow in the mist,
If I die she shall be my coffin,
As without the muse I am nothing.

I Could Be Dead!

Once again it’s back to square one,
All by myself late at night,
Back where I belong,
Writing melancholic laments by candle light,
How do I do it and where did I go wrong?
No matter where I go and what I go to do,
I wake up in the same old room,
Dreaming dreams anew,
Was it just a dream all along?
I wish this could be true!
But alas! For this is no dream,
A vision so cold and true,
I wish I could write this to somebody,
But so many I’ve called ‘you’!
How many would take time to read?
Soon many become so few.

I dream dark thoughts,
Through dark nights,
Ghostly ports and gruesome sights,
Of what I think I say not,
For I would surely be left to rot,
In cages behind fences riddled with barb,
Out of sight out of mind;
Locked away with the macabre.

Being back at square one isn’t so bad,
Even if it leaves me looking lonely and sad,
I’ve gained no prospects and nothing achieved,
Over this recent year just gone,
And I assure you it has nothing to do with spliff or bong,
You all should feel quite relieved,
For I could be dead and you all bereaved!

Angels Do Not Look Like Angels

People are only human,
Human is only animal,
What follows is happiness,
But present is always sadness,
Pain is only an emotion,
Emotions can be suppressed,
We hide from what we don't want,
These experiences can not be escaped,
Good cannot exist without bad,
You cannot feel truly happy,
If you don't know what it is to be sad,
To truly be understood,
You must learn to understand,
Choices can be chosen for any reason,
People judge by who you’re pleasing,
At the end of time it is all about you,
Some people choose this way but remember,
That it will affect everything you do,
We are born alone like aliens on a new world,
We die alone with a care for no man,
Where do we come from and,
Where do we go to?
What does it all matter?
Suicide is all around,
Some do it for themselves,
Some don't leave yet do it for others,
These don't have the rope around their necks,
Only a halo,
Angels don't look much like angels and,
Life doesn't look much like life.

C'est La Vie

I like girls I like boys,
I like silence,
And I like noise.
I like sunrises and sunsets,
I like tape players and video cassettes.
I like the smell of the launderette;
On a warm summers day,
I like boozy beer garden tours;
In the month of May!
I like pretty girls and I like watching them dance,
I like finding beauty in everyone,
I like that cheesy old 80’s song,
And I like taking a chance,
I like talking rubbish:
Shooting the breeze,
I like carpet burns and red-raw knees,
I like making funny noises,
And being a fool,
I do what I do,
And I think that’s pretty cool,
I like mixing drugs and drink with wine,
But I like most of all how much;
I love this life of mine.

Dear Mystery

Dear Mystery,
It is so nice to see your face once more,
And I want you to know,
It’s the days that I’m with you,
That I live for,
And I want you to know,
And you can say if I’m wrong,
We ain’t even been together all that long,
But it’s you that I think about,
And to me there is no doubt,
That it’s you I want to be with,
You’re the person I can’t live without,
A woman like you is but one in a million,
Personality and looks more like one in a billion,
A perfect woman: if not a silly one.
You might think that I’m exaggerating,
But I want you to know,
That I think you might be the one,
You’re the funniest girl that I know,
When I’m around you,
I feel like I never want to go,
I want to make you happy,
And I want it to show,
And if I ask you and the answer is no,
Then I will have to like it because,
I am never letting you go,
I just want to go to sleep with you,
And wake up next to you,
Go out with you,
And stay in with you,
Doing all the things people in love are meant to do,
Now I’m a very friendly guy,
A bit like you and I want you to know,
That I promise that I will always be true,
You’re the only one I could be honestly faithful to,
I see more of you than I think you even do,
I can see you shining in front of my eyes,
The most difficult challenge,
And you: the ultimate prize,
Now I’m just fool that has fallen in deep for you,
Summertime sunset with the panoramic view,
But what can I do when all I think about is you,
Its 6am and I want you to know from me,
That I’m in love with you mystery.

Global Reform

The world is rarely seen,
How we would like it to,
If we could crop and spruce and clean,
And fit it to me and you,
If the world could rid itself o' badness and it's scum,
And let all the good roam free,
And proud make every mum,
Would I be one whose left to see,
To see this perfect earth?
Or would my mother nature call,
And say i'm of no worth,
If this does happen: ever at all,
I hope I am asleep,
Because knowing all this is mean,
And would surely make me weep,
But if we could crop and spruce and clean,
And make the world alright,
With you I hope I am...
To see in my last night!


As I look down at all that is up,
I smile at this private world,
As I stay suspended here in nothing,
I look down upon lands of softest white,
I dream of falling through these islands,
Falling without ever stopping,
Falling further and further away,
From the houses and roads of the sky above,
The wind rushing into my mouth,
As I scream, shout; laugh at the top of my voice,
No cares for anything - anything at all,
My permanent smile like the photographs on the wall.
As I look up at all that is down,
I smile and greet your world,
As I hurtle towards nothing,
I look down to building ledges and clouds of white,
I dream of all the people I once knew,
People from all walks of life,
People I loved and people I hated,
Friends I wish I had held onto,
The concrete rushes into my mouth,
I scream, shout, cry all in a blink,
All problems - dwarfed by this very moment,
My eternal pain just a mark in this pavement.

If Only

Would you be my very best friend,
And let me be yours too?
Could you be that special someone.
I think I need someone like you!
Would you be my partner in life,
And stand by my side?
Could you help me face my fears,
When all I want is to run and hide,
Would you share in all my;
Secrets, hopes and dreams?
Could you hold me together,
Prevent me falling apart at the seams,
Would you ever be able to love me,
As I know I could for you,
Could you give me just one chance,
I promise to always be true,
I think I need someone like you!

If I could I would treat you good,
And cover you in kisses,
I’d give everything I have and all I could,
To say to people, “look there’s my Mrs.!”
I want to take you out nice places,
Just to spend some time with you,
I think we could be good for each other,
I think I need someone just like you!
If I could show you just how beautiful you are,
Make you feel how you do me,
You’re as perfect as the colours of autumn,
Or a sunset over the sea,
I want to get to know you better,
Give things a go and try,
I think we owe it to ourselves,
I’d like it to be you and I.
Your like no one I have ever met,
I don’t know what to do,
You’re all I can think about,
I need someone,
I need you!

Lake Melancholy

You and I were just like one,
Inseparable and so in love,
I want to take you back to all those places,
Every memory smiles upon our faces,
Only for us we used to care,
Soft and perfectly intimate embraces,
No matter where.
We were never totally honest with each other,
But we liked it that way;
I would walk many miles to be by your side,
Knowing I would put a spring in my stride,
Just a little glimpse of your angelic face,
Would light up my heart in its darkest place.
Our love blossomed too young and too fast,
A diver with the bends!
Loves crossed the line into hatred now,
But I am sorry for what I’ve done to you Cow!
Maybe you were right: we are not made for each other,
You and I frolicking under cover!
Now I bid thee farewell,
I to heaven and you to hell.
But you forgot our delicate love that we did make,
I hope you know I cried;
As I watched your body sink out of sight in that lake.
I did bring you flowers and I was going to apologise,
For the things I said!
I didn’t intend on raping and killing you instead.

Lament Only For Oneself

The days would roll to nights,
And the nights back to day.
This was all that there was,
This was just the way.
Things started out in a mess,
You always created some reason for stress,
You left me hoping,
But all along I knew it was hopeless.

I don’t know why I tried so much,
Why was it only effort of mine?
Was it because every time that I would ask,
You would wear that stupid mask,
And blatantly lie saying ~
Everything’s fine!

I could never have kept my heart from going cold,
No matter how hard I tried,
My hand I had to fold.
I am really glad that you’re out of my life,
All you brought me was strife,
But with all the water under the bridge,
And now that everything has been said,
Can you please do me one favor?
And get the fuck out of my head!


There was an old woman from China,
Who always thought something behin' her,
She walked backwards from then-on,
But alas a cliff she was on,
That tragic old woman of China.


There was an old man from China,
This old woman he used to dine her,
Until she fell from the cliff,
A drink he had: one ever so stiff,
And promptly wed the daughter o' a miner.


There was a young lady from Saltburn,
And all her clothes she did burn,
The men would all cheer and whistle,
But she chased 'em of with a pis'ol,
That eccentric young lady from saltburn.


There was a young lady from Korea,
She loved to drink lots of beer,
One night she got very drunk,
And ended up going home w' a skunk,
That stinky young lady from Korea.


There was a quite rotund man by the name of Brown,
Who could easily be likend to that of a clown,
He made alot of promises that he could not keep,
Which hurt lots of families and left people t' weep,
That selfish Labour man by the name of Brown.


There was an old man from Cancoon,
Whose head was the size of a baloon,
A strong wind came, And the man took flight,
The People said, "Oh - What a sight",
As the man floated up to the Moon.


There was an old lady from Teeside,
She lived in a hut by the seaside,
Which was often engulfed by the hightide,
But her bed, the waves it did ride,
That sporty old lady from Teeside.


There was a old man called Harry,
Who often thought he should marry,
One day on a walk, he wed a great stalk,
That now content old man called Harry.


Live Once

Im stuck fast with no path clear,
The next move is one that fills my heart with fear,
Im not sad, hurt, depressed or mad,
Im just a man torn between good and bad.

It is your life!
Nobody can tell you what to do,
We all do things we don’t like to,
It doesn’t matter to me as long as it is done for you.

I fell like self-destructing,
And put an end to all the long-ting,
All I want is that boom-ting,
And some darkroom double bed-ting!

Eat, shit and die,
Be happy and sometimes cry,
What do we live for and why?
You only live once so give it a try.
If I get it wrong then with a shrug of my shoulders and a sigh,
I will depart this world and say my last goodbye.

Lost But Not Gone

All our lives people come and go, Some we love and some we hardly know, Those we love and truly care for, Are the ones we miss when around no more, But they live on in our thoughts, and we hold them dearly against our hearts, They watch down from up above, Watching over the ones they love, For the people we love can never leave: this is true, They are all around and here for you.

Lost Daughter Of A Czar

My little sister so well travelled: I can state,
Every day travelling far and wide,
Albert Square, Wetherfield and even as far as Ramsay Street Estate,
But as travelling may help most people learn,
My sister is behind which is quite some concern,
Ignorant, immature: selfish and conceited could describe her, but these are but a few,
If I could thank God for my sister I would thank him for not making two!

My little sister is polite and kind to all those that wont be taken for granted,
Her view of her immediate family, however, is somewhat rather slanted,
I really do love my sister even if she does not care,
I just wish she would see that she is being quite a mare,
One day my little sister will realise of what she’s done and said,
And come looking with kindness and love to share,
But too late that time will come, And we will all be dead.

Modern Daze Thoughts

Miles of blue. Endless grey. Built up places. Who are these faces? cold dead breeze under deities and the interview room light. God is the shoe and I am the shite. Miles of sand. Endless seas. Only in him they're confiding. What are they hiding? Butterflies dancing to my eulogy on the breeze. God is the dog and I am the disease. Miles of black. Endless introverts. Decapitated fun. Is life defined by the size of your gun? Live fast, die young and don’t think about marriage. God is the mother and I am the miscarriage. Mile of yellow. Endless White. Empty spaces. All special places? All of life a pinch of salt and good humour. God is growth and I am the Tumor. I am God and God is me.

My Mother

Great Goddess of all that I perceive,
This beauty you have gifted us I can hardly believe,
Of your abilities I am truly in awe,
Yet with each day that turns you keep giving more.
I hope that one day your love will be seen by all men,
Would it still be a special then?
I would like to question our current world and culture,
Maybe I could compare it to a Vulture;
I could but this would be wrong,
Your love and beauty is always present: A most perfect song.
I try to live my so as you may be proud,
Love and respect I show to the individual,
As well as to the crowd!
All that you have given is so perfect,
That I can see,
I can feel your spirit living within me.
In you we can all belong,
But it was this way all along.

O Brother

Naked in the sea, I was as happy as a boy could be,
The words are all spoken between you and me,
If I could take it all back and start again then I probably wouldn’t,
Thought you knew me like a brother but you didn’t: you couldn’t,
I remember times spent with you in back alleys and over the hedge,
The bicycle wheel rolling down as we sat on the cliff’s edge,
You think we were really good friends, me and you?
It doesn’t matter to me! Does it matter to you?
Like two hungry strays we both needed each other,
The barkeep and the drunk always happy for another,
Now we move in separate ways and places far apart,
Memories that have shaped my life, always in my heart,
I will never go back to times we once held close,
New man I am brother; on the inside I suppose,
This doppelganger who was always right,
Didn’t go peacefully: put up quite a fight,
Now for the moment I will lead the way,
But even I know that it will come – his day,
My life will never be the same for me,
Now I know what it is like to feel free,
I am the dog that has been given the bone,
I am free at last but oh so very alone,
Where are my brothers that liked to see me, and wanted for nothing in return?
Where are my brothers that didn’t see me as a way to earn?
Brothers for whom I so fondly dream, but I am an only child,
What happy life is this? I can only describe it as mild,
The tide turns in relentless monotony,
What have I achieved what has life gotten me?
I can see my path which I must now take; into the future and leave behind the past,
My devilish twin, niceness he tries to fake but this time the nice guy won’t finish last.
As I learn from my mistakes and proceed up this ladder,
The rung in my hand turns into the tempting adder,
I must let go and let myself stand tall,
My new sense of determination prevents me from a fall.
My aspirations speak volumes on the new me,
Why not take time to listen: why not come and see?
But you will never change I can see that in your eyes,
You can say you have and wear that crude disguise,
Your fooling no one other than yourself,
Dream you will never achieve of happiness and wealth,
Oh brother there is no easy option in life,
Rewards are much greater gained through toil and strife,
I wish you could understand: I wish you could see,
I wish you would lose that pride and for a moment listen to me!
Brother you are now just part of my history painted red,
I enjoyed our time spent but I am glad you are dead,
My ghostly twin speaks to me causing great trepidation,
Thoughts of you, my brother, and our reincarnation,
But these are merely thoughts so frivolous; they will never occur,
That is a definite and of that I am definitely sure.
To you, oh brother, I drink one last time,
I have my life now, and you have your crime,
I hope that one day you will realise what life is worth,
And value your time and place on this earth,
If that time does ever come I hope you will visit me,
I have something to show you; something I want you to see,
I now smile at life and laugh at this my memory,
O Brother I will tell you now, O Brother,
I am free!


Muse, Angel, Felicity, Robyn,
Your name could be anything,
To me you are everything,
My reason to smile,
From over three hundred mile,
Your beauty is abounding,
I find you quite astounding,
Your smile has the ability to,
Take all my worries away,
I am nervous about meeting you,
As I may forever want to stay,
And if I could describe in a word - just one,
To me you are paragon.


As I watch my doppelganger, Always one step ahead,
He tries to lead me down an ill-fated path,
Each night spent at the end of my bed,
I open my eyes in the dead, still and dark night,
Through the deepest shadows and just in sight,
What spectre is this that I see?
Myself, it is I, staring back at me!

My doppelganger be nothing like me if truth be told,
Sat there watching me with dead eyes so cold,
I dare not speak to my ghostly twin,
Or get close enough to touch his skin,
For I know why he is here,
I do know why he stares at me,
It is because that while I am alive;
He will never ever be free.

Simple Things

As I sailed upon my briny bed,
The cold water numbed me from toe to head,
My spirit leisurely floating up above,
An experience of pure love.
As a piece of wood I drifted out to sea,
My only thoughts were that ‘I’m free’!
The clouds rolled into and out of view,
Nirvana! My being had become a new.
The gulls dived between me and the shore for their fishy food,
I stayed perfectly still so as not to be rude,
They all looked as peaceful as can be,
I was at peace as they were with me.
At once a butterfly ambled by,
To distant lands I think he doth fly.
I watch the people upon the sands,
Walking, paddling, holding hands,
I don’t care for them I am out of reach,
In the distance: Them on the beach,
Out here I can shout and scream every word,
No one will hear, it will never be heard.
I roll and dive and thrash about,
As a child or as a playful trout.
I do not wish to live here forever,
But to stay much longer would not be clever.
I head for the shore meandering through the swell,
A taste of heaven but to no-one I tell,
This place has been made just for me,
This place where I am totally free.

Soppy Gush

Now I know that I must have said this a million times before,
But this girl is the girl that makes me feel that I’m sure,
She has a smile like no other,
And eyes that could take the heart of the badest mother,
As much as I hate to admit that I need a woman in my life,
I dream of the future family and matching wife,
I do not want for much during my time in this place,
Except for a little happiness and a smile on her face,

More than just my girlfriend she is my best friend,
I love her more with every day that passes,
We giggle and of ourselves make asses,
I pray that what we have will never end,
And any problems I’m sure we can mend,
The rules for her I would gladly brake or bend,
This confession here to her should I send:
This drivel and gush that is so poorly penned?
Something this poor could only spell the end!

I just can’t get her out of my head,
Night-dreams followed by daydreams of her in my bed,
She is like words so beautiful that they cannot be said,
She doesn’t know but when she came into my world,
My heart just unfurled,
And now surely without her in my life I would be as good as dead,

: A name to bring me such joy,
And make me bounce and jump just like a little boy,
I hope she feels the same as me,
I hope that she can see,
I hope that she believes that we are meant to be!

Summer Daze

A flower petal sailing in the breeze,
The summer sun shining through the trees,
As we walk through the grass ever so high,
It makes a swish to the noise of a fly,
The sun warm against the skin,
Conversations about all and everything,
Meandering along the country at leisure’s own pace,
I shyly glance at ones angelic summer face,
We reach nowhere on a hill so high,
Lying down to examine the sky,
As the clouds roll across our view,
I feel alive so ever brand new,
The sun has burnt my eyes into a multicoloured haze,
These are my perfect summer days.

Supper In The Garden

Stale buns hug ham and pease,
As the dark night sky draws ever near,
Deep thoughts reflected in Betjeman please,
But relax, I do, with my friend Lear.

As I savour all that is soft,
Mouth full but no words to say,
The moon doth climb aloft,
And bids the sun good day.

The empty plate draws me to thirst,
Through the trees the wind doth pass,
The day gone and seen its worst,
But I hope it is not the las’.

Thoughts look to tomorrows first light,
And dreams of adventures and joy so deep,
Alas first must pass the night,
Only hastened through ideas of sleep.

As I count ewes and rams over stile,
I thank the Lord for kind summer days,
And lie awake in my chamber awhile,
Thinking forward to the morning haze.

The Beast Within

As it wakes from deepest hibernation,
The beast hungers with thoughts of mastication,
Upon a small, hard bodied foe it does feast its eyes,
Through-out the lands it is heard in battle cries,
As the early morning sun sits low,
The beast confronts its foe,
Like an unstoppable force the beast lifts its foe high into the air,
Swiftly dropping it down on its side splitting right in two there,
With the fire still smouldering from the night just past,
It’s foe defeated It laughs how his foes demise was fast,
The flesh of the defeated cooked and ready to eat,
The beast wraps it up in a blanket made from flour – made from wheat,
Salivating profusely and unable to control its hunger,
This morning meal will soon be no longer,
As the beast’s mighty jaws close down,
They plough through the soft blanket of white bordered in brown,
The teeth pierce the centre of what was once it’s adversary,
Releasing a yellow-amber blood of very low viscosity,
True to the beasts nature it wipes the blood from its chin,
Hands dripping he put them to his mouth and licks them cl’n!
It’s foe now devoured and the beast satisfied,
The calm of the beast now rectified,
As the beast left it could be heard to say,
“Without a fried egg sandwich I just couldn’t start my day”!

The Egg Theorem

If the world was as round as an egg,
Then would the poor have to beg,
And if they did not have to beg and plead,
Of charities; would we not need?
If the charities were obsolete,
Maybe we could all fly to Crete,
If we all got the same tan,
And the same look for every man,
Then one race we would be,
And all live in harmony.
Oh - if only; if only, I beg,
If only the world was as round as an egg!

The Ever Changing World

The world is never the same,
As it was the day before,
Some people treat it as a game,
Others? I'm not really sure.

The faster this world moves along,
The better it is for me,
No need to feel that I belong,
Just float along with the sea.

There is not many things that I hold dear as some can already see,
But off the top of my head I guess I can think of three,
This sense of freedom and change but most importantly,
What you mean to me.

The Jack-O-Wee

The bus stopped at the purple tree,
And was greeted by the Jack-o-wee,
As we alighted by the right,
The Jack-o-wee hopped out of sight.
This Jack-o-wee was green and brown,
And its nose was also upside-down,
A long fluffy tail that was glow-in-the-dark,
And as it hopped away: made a noise 'dingmark'
We followed it into the bush,
Proceeding in silence and hush,
We followed the path 'till it was late at night,
But the Jack-o-wee was nowhere in sight.

We were lost deep amongst the bushes and tree,
Calling out for help but nobody answering me,
As we decided all hope was gone,
A flicker of light through the bush it shone,
We followed this light all the way back,
Once safe this light faded to black,
And although we couldn’t quite see,
We knew we were safe thanks to the Jack-O-wee,
As we departed from our adventure off through the dark,
On the nights warm air we heard this remark:
‘Pree Pree Shnarkle Dingmark Dingmark’
There for a moment I thought I saw,
A Jack-O-wee family,
Sitting down to scarecrows jaw,
And midnight tea!

The Journey

I started out on a journey,
A journey of self discovery,
Travelled on bus, feet and train,
Along the way I seen through many a day,
Days lost to selfish gain.

I started out on a journey,
A journey to escape,
Escapism from a world swallowing my soul,
I had grew into a place of selfish ways,
Drug fuelled binges,
Leading to hazy days.

I started out on a journey,
A journey to the unknown,
Seen some things about myself,
Things I did not like,
I was the cause of all my pain,
Yet I kept on causing more,
Shameful tears hidden in the rain.

I started out on a journey,
A journey to move forward,
Change into a higher being,
Open up my mind,
Clean up my act and tidy my room,
Inside was such a mess,
Learn from life’s lessons,
Turn selfish into selflessness.


On my journey,
I experienced many things,
Memories soaking up the spilt lager, drugs and gin,
Many things I found new and exciting,
Shame every one was a sin.

On my journey,
I experienced many things,
Women and men it did not matter,
Gluttony, adultery and lust,
My happiness over all others,
But was my cause just.

On my journey,
I experienced many things,
New faces and places,
People in the crowd,
Friends for a day and friends for a night,
Children of many different worlds,
Friends now out of sight.

On my journey,
I experienced many things,
Looking out for number one,
I moved from place to place,
Burnt bridges lay behind,
Call me self-absorbed and I would call it true,
Friends left hurt and broken,
I am sorry to all of you.


My journey led me full circle,
Now I am back home,
I learnt many things along the way,
Lessons learned and skills gained,
Abilities I show today.

My journey led me full circle,
Now I am back home,
A journey filled with challenges,
Appreciation for no-one,
A challenge I had to face,
I faced it head to head and learnt respect for everyone.

My journey led me full circle,
Now I am back home,
The dark days I left behind so long ago,
Are now all gone,
The storm clouds that once followed me,
Have gone and left for good,
Now I look up to heaven and clear skies I see.

My journey led me full circle,
Now I am back home,
A journey started many moons ago,
When I was just a boy,
My room clean and the act now over,
Problems? I still have some,
Dealing with them is easier,
Because a man I have become.

The Last Day On Earth

A perfect day of summer’s rain,
Nothing to lose and so much to gain,
Nowhere to go and nothing to do,
A beach empty for a mile or two,
The world seen in monochrome,
This old photo I call my home,
The gulls avoid my every move,
In this place I have nothing to prove,
I look up into the skies so grey,
There are no words which I can pray,
As the tears roll down my cheeks,
The day has turned into weeks,
Yet the rain still dashes upon my skin,
And washes away all my sin,
Alone in perfect desolation,
This is my permanent rehabilitation,
Not a breath doth cross my lips,
Upon the sea there are no ships,
The wind has chilled my body numb,
I stand alone waiting for it to come,
I dare not move in case I miss,
Heaven’s Angel’s beckoning kiss.

The Runaway Train

Free: Am I free?
Is anybody free?
Is everybody free?
Are our lives just microcosms:
Just small parts of a larger entity?
This world is anything but free,
We are the dogs kept at bay by the long leash,
It is only when we try to go further than they want,
That we realize we have never been free,
Those that keep us blissfully ignorant in our lives,
Spend so long trying to attain a better life that;
By the time they have achieved it…
They are just too long in the tooth to enjoy it!
Freedom is a concept; an ideal if you will believe it.
Freedom can be the ability to use free thinking,
Or at its absolute it allows one to do whatever they can imagine!
This type of freedom can never be achieved,
Our leashes are weighed too heavily down by,
The material, the physical and the emotional,
I don’t want the life I see on TV,
I don’t want what nine out of ten people recommend,
I want to have what that one person recommended.
I want to be that person,
Without a cause: without even an effect,
The blinking cursor riding the letters across the page.
I want for nothing in the life other than to be truly happy,
I don’t think in a million years of following the crowd,
That I could ever be truly happy,

This world just isn’t big enough for me,
I need to leave: Breakout,
The magma deep inside has been bubbling for some time now,
I am trying to do what is expected by others,
But all I want to think about is myself!
Surely this path can only lead to self-destruction?
A runaway train in desperate need of steering!

The Songbird In The Tree

There is something about you,
What? I wish I knew,
You execute it with great precision,
Yet no one sees what you do,
I hear deep within my heart and soul,
You give me a feeling,
And make me whole,
Every word I speak is true,
Poem and word that I say to you,
I say that I am all yours: lust and greed,
For as long as you want,
You are all I need,

One look at you and my heart skips a beat,
You’re perfect, beautiful, honest and sweet,
I think about you twenty-four seven,
You’re my angel sent down from heaven,
Of your body there is not a single bit,
That I don’t like: I love all of it,
When I hold you close to me,
I feel as content as the songbird,
Summertime singing in the tree.

As well as beautiful,
You are also clever and smart,
And funny, and loveable,
With a caring heart,
This hold you have of me,
Let go: I will never,
All I want is to be with you forever,
Because this thing that you do,
Has made my feelings clear and true,
I am feeling something new,
I’m falling in love with you.

The Sunrise To My Sky

The Sunrise To My Sky

Wheels that consistently turn,
Dreams for which I eternally yearn,
Space from which I can sail from and be free,
Lakes, downs, fells and brigs: where ever we may be,
Hold my hand let me feel your heart beat,
Climb upon my back and take the weight from your feet,
I did not manage to catch the beast,
From what I have I shall make you a feast,
You can rest fatigued and showing,
I can stay awake keep the wood hot and glowing,
You rise from your slumber like an angel from high,
You are the sunrise in my sky.

Turning forward into places yet unknown,
Behind us a trail of happiness that we hath sown,
Our hands together clammy and warm but still,
To be here with you my blood I would spill,
Late spring early summer sun,
We join the butterflies around the maypole tree for fun,
When it is time for afternoon tea,
We drink it with honey courtesy a friendly little bee,
Evening comes I make us a bed from brush and heather,
No need for cover in this perfect summer weather,
We tell each other stories and tales of a far,
After you we name the brightest star,
Before I sleep I look into your eye,
You are the moon that lights up my sky.

As we sleep hands still entwined,
So in our dreams each other we can find,
As we ride rapids through eternal fields of flowers,
We save the world with our super powers,
Dreams of falling doth bring me no qualms,
As I always land in your arms,
Dreams filled with constant laughter and joy,
Once I was the girl and you were a boy,
Our dreams are endless in what we can be,
They are always perfect because you dream them with me,
I never wake with a sigh because next to me is where you lie,
And you are the sunrise to my sky.

The Unknown Man

Loneliness can be described by how often you play the banjo,
A statement only a man can truly know!
Lustful thoughts surface all around me,
Fetish dreams of women that I see.
In this solitude my mind can grow,
But seldom in public do I show,
Most people know and see of me,
As extrovert, eccentric and borderline lunacy.
I wish to show that I am of some worth,
Justify; validate my place on this Earth.
My days are with far-reaching contemplation,
Broken only by acts of masturbation.
I often wonder: Will I always be this way?
Two different people till my dying day.
Would I really mind if I stayed the same?
All I want is for someone to remember my name!

To The Owner Of My Heart

I can see to a place where we can fly amongst blue skies and the whitest clouds. A place where we have nothing and are nothing yet are totally complete. We have always been free to do as we please. Let’s learn together. Let’s be free. Let us find a way into that meadow of endless flowers and a breeze that whispers only of love. Let us find our beach with its endless white sands and still blue waters. Let the water wash over your skin taking with it all thoughts and cares. Let's float in this water until we care for nothing and all we can do is laugh in purest joy and ecstasy. Let us lie on this beach in wind and rain as well as baking hot sun; feeling nothing more than comfort. Let us watch sand fall from our hands: counting each grain as it turns to hours. Let us go deep into the forest and find our clearing. An opening full of bluebells and snowdrops. Let us sit in this haven of peace and tranquillity. Let us pick flowers for each other. Let us feel softest pure green grass beneath us as we talk. Talking for ever more about nothing and everything. Talking until our smiles grow so large that talking becomes no more. Let us lie upon a hill in the night time chorus of the crickets. Let us look to the skies and count every one of the stars that shine upon you. Let's name each one as we go. Let’s stay in this night forever. Watching the moon as it rolls in perfect simplicity. Let us walk with no idea of where we are heading. Let us walk until we cannot walk no more. Let every person that passes us by be greeted with a smile. Let us feel every inch of this planet we stand upon. Let us feel it together. Know that I am with you forever.

What You Don't Know

I was never scared of death before,
But since meeting you I fear it more and more,
For if I was to die right here where I stand,
I would lose you and all that we have planned,
Since you have come into my life,
All I can think of is you,
I’m falling in love with you,
Your beauty, personality and everything you do,
To you I give every bit of me,
And I hope that forever we can be,
You’re the most amazing girl that I have ever seen,
I hope you understand what I am saying,
And know what I mean,
You give me a reason to live,
You are the only one I ever want to be with.

Park Life

The things you hear about happening after dark,
Are part-and-parcel of daily life on park,
Work is hard and the hours are long,
You do your best but there is always something wrong,
No drugs: A company policy;
But I have seen many a bong,
People from all walks of life,
Teenagers, single mums the odd husband and wife,
There is a new party every single day,
Under the radar they often stay,
Noise complaints;
Caught out and you will pay.
Aquabar, Jesters, Showbar, Mash and Bash,
Work, rest and play,
Earn some cash,
Caravans and chalets is where we stay,
For a quiet check-in;
We so often pray.
Park-life isn’t all fun and frolics,
A lot of it is utter bollocks!
From the strictest of complex bosses and team leaders,
To the moaning, groaning Sun holiday bottom-feeders.
Caravan owners always after something for free,
All the hard work and the effort;
Everyone seems to fail to see.
Grasses, cheats and gossips on site,
Stressed out team members,
The odd argument and fight.
This life is not for just anyone,
People come and can’t handle it,
The next minute they are gone,
Saying that they couldn’t take the shit!
Those who stay: working all hours of the day,
Are the opposite; often saying they wouldn’t have it any other way,
Hung-over, tired and an early morning shift,
You work through it as best you can,
Tesco’s lager offer: Late night lift!
There is a whole world and a way of life on park,
That the guests just don’t see,
Thirty six little communities around the U.K,
On one of them you may stay,
If you do, keep an eye out for me,
You might find me at Kiln Park or Primrose Valley.