Monday, 21 November 2011

If you'd really like to know, he went that way.

Fade out, fade out,
We only let it begin
And this is not the end,
As I fade out, leaving only the grin;
The romeraths' outgrabe... It starts again,
Just a tabby, moggy, mut,
You go whichever way
I prefer the short-cut.
Can you stand on your head?
Come child, you look unwell,
And entirely not yourself,
Lets get you off to bed;
Or should that be
Off with her head!
One tends to say and forget
What one, in the first place said,
Or who am I or who is you,
I wouldn't trust that Cat,
Try the March hare or the man in the hat;
Of course, they're mad too,
Calloo, callay, come run away,
It doesn't matter what you do,
It really doesn't matter which way you go,
When both ways go
Where you want to get to.
Smile and begin to disappear,
Drink this bottle, feel ever so queer;
Not so good for your height
But it wont harm your health;
Oh, you can't help that.
You may have noticed
That I'm not all there myself.

Saturday, 19 November 2011

Dawn Hedgehog

Along the borders edge
Amongst the prying eyes of dawn,
You scurry as fast as you can:
One last forage before the dangers come,
That come with each coming morn.

Your innocent face and cute complexion
Hide what a beast you are.
On a daily basis you fight for survival
And risk death from animal, man, car!
You defend yourself from monsters
With your thorny Testudo,
Fifty-times your size and yet you still get through though;
The safety of the night and the deep dank bushes
Is what you love, and all you know,
An expert in concealment
We wont see you through the day
And no matter when we search
We never find your place;
I sit here now and watch the dog,
Hackles up, yet you stare her straight in the face,
Fearless and knowing,
Stuffed fat with slugs and bugs
Your still small and for winter growing,
You know man's evil and still terror at my arrival
You start showing, this day is too dangerous;
I sit and the dog sits
As we watch you leave,
Wherever you are going.

Wednesday, 16 November 2011

The Title Matters Just As Much

What life is this
That money is the root of all evil,
Or so they say; and yet no one stops talking about it,
Are they trying to take the piss.

What life is this
That a person can fall in love so deep,
If love truly exists; and still for love they can't make sacrifice,
But from love the other they want to keep.

What life is this
That when life gets cold and hard,
And might only get worse, we don't strengthen or come together,
We grow soft and wet like a castle made of card.

What life is this
And what have I done so wrong,
In the forest I can see it in the terrified does eyes;
That they knew all along.

What life is this
That our memories are captured on T.V. and film,
What happened to stories, tales and family;
To peoples histories hand built and baked in life's kiln.

What life is this, what life is this,
I don't really care,
I'm a snake alone in the desert, making a gentle hiss;
Or just another person taking the piss.

Tuesday, 15 November 2011

To Uncle

A great man you were
From the moment we first met,
A subtle and intriguing genius
You kept a piece of every person you met.

Sunday lunches at my fathers,
Sunday morning papers and a bacon sandwich;
The final weeks bringing smiles to everyone
As your mind and body did languish;

We know you fought with all your might
For your self, family, and those that care,
We accept that God's judgement is always right
I can look to the sky and see you there

Laughing and joking with those who've left,
Back to your valiant Spartan prime
Happy by your life, we cannot be bereft,
And for us all its just a matter of time;

So we sing, remember, and teach
Of all you were and all you be,
We shall give you unstoppable reach
To keep touching the hearts of everyone who be.

Past Heaven's gates forever and a day
To sit between peace and joy,
To Heaven's angels we sit and pray
For the innocent ecstasies of a cherub boy;

Let them protect you from all evil,
Let them set your soul free,
All life's mysteries, let them all reveal;
And great man of Heaven, as on Earth, you shall now forever be.

Seeing Into A Dream You Don't Remember

I drink away all time,
Falling into the pit devoid of regret,
Remorse, nothing in this haze
Having long late nights
And laboriously long lazy days;
I waste this space with smiles,
Long laughing jokes, double entendre,
And immature imitation bush tucker trials,
Missing out on this field of life
Endless fields for miles and miles;
Missing out on a life so warm
A life so cosy,
I drink away all time
At the end of time will be
A sad apricot of a man, yellowing
With two cheeks and a nose so rosy.

Girl With The Raven Hair

Girl with the raven hair.

In the bleak belch of time,
Your innocence was so sweet,
Your raven hair
A flower among the weeds,
On that cold snowy night
On the bank by the sea,
Where we did first meet.

Girl with the raven hair;

Your figure cut
A sick hole in my world.
Raven hairs on white brilliant baths,
On floors, in beds:
Our trysting love
Love hushed, hushed moans
From behind closed doors.

Girl with the raven hair.

The black strands
Strings of poison
Tie a noose around my neck,
Kill everything
And all is no more;
But still the raven hair cuts
Skin and holds breath,
Keeps me lashed
To words spoken in bedrooms
Bedrooms behind the door.

Raven haired girl,
Raven hair
Pollute my mind forevermore.

Thursday, 10 November 2011

When The Knell Begins To Toll (Hurry)

Give everything you got,
I'll take the lot, Mr. Sandman,
Grandfather, empty that clock,
I'm running out of time,
I need more, I've still got it all,
This hill, ladder, wall,
I've still got so much to climb;
But I guess I'm all out,
I'm just too late,
No chance to finish off,
No hope to replete;
Let's just wait here in silence;
I accept defeat.

To The Person Two Feet In Front

Your two feet walk the pavement,
Half the pace of my two feet; we never meet
As your two feet turn right
And my two feet don't.
We never meet, as you disappear
A bin lorry stops in the street,
Letting me pass
With gratitude I greet,
As another set of feet tread peddles,
In his fine bin-lorry shell, roaming the street.
Altogether we are alone.
One lonely car, van, man,
Figure; silent
In summer sun, spring rain;
Autumn grey or winter sleet.
We never meet,
No, nothing as we greet,
Just listening to the melody,
The harmony
Wheels on the street,
The dance of our two feet.


Take a breath and look, simple fool,
You don't have a clue what zoo your in,
Or what animals' cage you just shook.

I'm glad to say your safe, simple fool,
For time they wouldn't waste on you,
No matter what you say, no matter what you do.

Try holding your tongue a moment,
Use your brain first, simple fool; your disenchanting rant,
A scattered mass of yarn slipping off a spool.

No one really cares what your saying,
Your a couple of laughs in the evening,
Simple fool, join in; 'I am glad that your leaving'.

Let this be a lesson, simple fool, of a stranger's flattering kiss,
It does not mean you sleep together, it doesn't mean there yours;
You can't always get your way and you should never take the piss.

Wednesday, 9 November 2011

The Pain I See In Innocence

You curl there like infinity,
Your head hidden beneath
Any bit of you you can stretch that far,
Hiding from the ensuing day;
In the quiet bustle of the morning rush
You can listen, drink it all in:
Hiding from you ennui day.
A hours trip outside, the rest of the day
A ghost, in the company of an old man,
In the silence of his ageing pride;
You lie there in your little ball
Making what you can and when,
Half asleep, only alive to the listening;
The long walks we take, a new face in the house,
Long grooming strokes; O the joys
To see your heart beat and you eyes start glistening.

I look at you and cry, sweet innocence,
That your years are short and empty,
My spirit breaks each time I leave:
I dream of changing my mind,
Love is never something life can truly ever fully...
We just don't have time to perceive.

Soon I shall be gone, sweet innocence,
I may see your angel face no more;
My tears start every time I leave,
To every time I return,
Through your worlds-end door.

Tuesday, 8 November 2011

The Autumn Dusk

The grey wash fog sits,
Like cotton-wool, languid
Upon the conifer's green surf,
Twinkling like a rush hour star
To the blind, deaf, and dumb.

The nip of unloved hearts sting,
Flesh red raw, lingering
In the treacle blood trail,
Oozing over skin to every open door,
Saturating everything in deathly silence.

The damp rag of earth underfoot,
Like the soft pillow, wet
With a widow's first night alone,
Deeply dark, leaving dank footprints
To all who come her way.

The candle-light, and the car-light,
Silently disagreeable in a time
Of neither night nor day,
Lost and floating in a cloud,
All that was solid has been lost.

The stark unfinished collage,
Like ideas on a white-washed wall,
Of bricks, mortar, flesh and bone,
Capillarous hairs stretch out across the void:
Blood on porcelain, heading for the plug.

The envious sick is all that survives
The drain, like the untying of a balloon,
Slowly, all shades of grey and off-white
Are dragged away, as the table cloth
From all that exists, leaving only the night.

Thursday, 3 November 2011

Your Last Meal

I thought you just a too tight sock,
Or a pain from where I did tire;
Yet when I had stripped and into bed,
The pain became somewhat dire.

I threw off the blanket with great haste,
I fumbled about for the fire;
With the lamp lit I finally saw,
What did make me hie and gyre.

I looked down in the light and there you were,
My little deer tick vampire

Spiel Off (A hundred Pocket Sonnets)

You can say you love, and
You can claim you love, it doesn't matter
Its lost all meaning,
Its never any good;
You love and you love,
And its never what you should;
Learn romance:
Don't push weights,
We all know what happens to the stud!
Your hunting wabbits, be a bunny,
Don't be Elmer Fudd,
Don't say I love.

Show it in your eyes,
In the way you say hello;
Learn to sit and wait
For more than the length of just one date,
You owe it to yourself,
And only you can tell,
It grows from what you do,
Not just because you can say,
I love you. I love you too.

Wednesday, 2 November 2011

As I Suck The Blood From Between My Teeth And Gums

In the bleak black night I search for the faces,
And listen for those noises;
I wait for them to get closer,
Until it is too late to escape,
Hiding my eyes I scare myself,
Thinking of all those stories that I once read;
Murderers, rapists, the sadistic unstoppable un-dead.
They never come, I'm not in a hurry,
I can wait for my bloodied last gasp,
My last agonising scream cut short in the flurry;
Steel, blades, metal; stricken flesh and bone,
I feel this, I can taste the iron in my mouth:
The smile that lights my face with fire,
I gulp the saliva down, it lets out a chortle;
I bite my lip and tongue and think,
Of all the times I've pressed the point,
Of the double bevel, thinking,
Once you break the skin,
You roll the snowball down that hill,
Once you break the skin,
You might as well just kill;
But I bide my time, I ferment myself,
Like the perennial bigos stew,
Floating on the effervescence
Of this playful little ruse.
I cogitate in bed, my mind begins to creep,
It poses the questions, that I dream
The answers to, in my sleep.
I could act at any moment,
And I've nearly let it slip;
But I shall tarry my time,
I shall play my part, along this merry trip;
They think they have the best of me,
I'm not the captain of the ship,
But I stand by the anchor,
And I'm poised, ready to let rip:
You either float along in the river,
And take what comes your way;
Or you hold on to the rock, you swim and swim and swim,
And you pray and pray and pray;
Yet you pray to empty idols, those that never answer,
The scriptures in their names only
Infect us like a cancer;
Why live and die in a name, or a face,
That you cannot read or see,
The only god to believe, that true trinity,
Is what we all think, see and feel;
My doppelganger, my environment, and their tool,
Their tool which is me.
I am their blade, I provide with what they need,
I kill their prey, I cut their food,
I protect them from the night,
And when our time is spent, I
Shall cut out the eyes,
I shall turn out the light.
I am the bloodied sword of self-justice,
The pen-knife of the wise;
I am the spearhead of protection,
The dagger of one's guise.
We live and die alone, trapped within ourselves,
We climb out of the pit we are born,
With rocks to help and hold,
Sand that pulls us down, and for a purpose,
Stories to be told.
Let me tell you a story, before I begin to forget,
Before I become too old.
This is the story of a man,
That knew what life was for;
Now he knew it was all interlinked,
The priest, with the worms,
The eagle and the whore;
But like the amoeba, man,
The wood that makes the door;
That you hide your thoughts behind,
Thoughts that everyone has had before;
His life had little purpose,
From everything he read, to everything he saw,
And everyday he would awake, after he had seen,
The very same postulate, in his nightly dream;
What is this life and what is my goal,
I see no spirit, and I see no soul;
So he sat around and pondered, on what it all might be,
And he came to the decision, he would see
What he couldn't see;
He put his plan into action, all provisions in place,
What was necessary.
He came out on top, learnt what he knew;
Life is just for living, there is nothing special to it,
Ask the animals, they will say its true;
You do what you have to, to get what you want to.
Now this man lives his life, knowing
That we can never know,
But no matter what happens, it is all part of the show;
So I push this blade against my neck,
And feel my pulse slip back, I laugh,
Just imagine if I began to hack.
We have it all to experience and everything is fun,
To hold a woman in your arms,
To hold a woman in her thoughts,
To hold a loaded gun;
We load one bullet, pass it around;
Welcome to our new game-show,
When I am gone, turn to the next contestants,
And tell them;
Either you, or I, or both, must go.
Live your life, like I have mine,
Like no one else I see,
Take with you everything and make it,
Everything you be,
Carry no bags, and carry no water,
Just you follow me,
And when the time is right,
I will eat you and you can eat me;
And we can laugh as we die,
And throw empty curses to the sky,
Laugh at the thought of those who cry;
I couldn't even if I was to try;
Don't ever frown don't ever sigh,
Unless you have a good reason why;
Listen and watch, don't ever pry,
Use the power of a lie;
But never forget to enjoy,
That most perfect moment in life:
When you live, love, hurt, laugh, kill, cry,
Fail, lose,
And most importantly, when you die.

Tuesday, 1 November 2011

I'm In Joyce's Portal

It was a bit of genius right there,
To some, might be your angel name,
But to Wordsworth you were always Luke;
A bit of shit, from the same dog, on that very same tyre,
And it isn't fluke, you threw me the ball,
You saved me
Shaving away at this square peg;
She would never have helped, held up,
Even a tent of a home.
Take it back, to where you lost it all,
I know why,
But no-one else can see, the selfish,
And their world of the over-exposed;
Take it back,
It doesn't matter, whose glove is she:
One size fits all,
I may be capricious,
It fitted well with her crotchety;
Whomsoever be the revolutionary,
Tomorrow, we will wait and see:
Manana, I can see; but what was it
Santayana said about history.

Monday, 31 October 2011

The Only Goodbye

A dog that knows you
Will never bite your leg,
And since day one you bit
Off way more than you could chew;
You think you could know,
You couldn't even tell the truth,
You never knew what to do;
Your an empty shell biting down,
But only on the denture;
The only port in the storm,
Not even a thirst quencher;
You never knew,
But you know, because that is just what you do,
You can carry your bags of shit up that hill;
I'm off to adventure.

Bad Photographs Hold

The silence was deafening
As my heart soared,
On the wing of a startled pheasant;
A day so brisk, ground well sodden,
But nothing less than
More than pleasant;
Forever on paper in black and white,
But the colours were so breathtaking:
A perfect silence, a face so bright,
A memory in the making.

Thursday, 27 October 2011


I wake up extra early,
While you are still asleep;
I dress, and put socks and shoes on my feet.
I creep downstairs, head out into the black,
I am all prepared,
I am never coming back.
I walk fast, hidden
By the thick nights goodbye kiss;
These dales and fells that I crest,
Are all that I will miss.
Atop the royal purple heather,
Atop this fervent forgotten heath,
I look to the clusters of sheep,
Grazing far beneath.
I walk down through a dale,
Across a boggy fen,
Like a ship at half-sail,
I go wherever and when.
The day was grey and bleak,
Yet the wind and the world;
And the moors, were tiring and meek;
As the sun took his last gasp,
Dipping beneath the waves,
I made it to the forest, of the forgotten graves.
It was dark, my feet were aching,
And my chest was yawning;
As I lay down on the soft pine needle floor,
To wait for morning.

Wednesday, 26 October 2011

Dry Wood

I had you,
I had you,
I had you,
I had you;
I have nothing, and I am all alone.
I find comfort in the proximity of my fears,
In this dark wood that I roam,
And when I cry, nobody hears,
I feel no place to call home,
Just respite from these calluses and blisters:
Keep moving or the oil will burn away;
Everything was here, but it all just missed us,
If I stay, leaving only becomes the fear.
O where are my brothers, where are my sisters;
Never so near as so far away, I dream,
Just a dream that our mother kissed us;
And on this path there is a toll to pay,
Just a dream, just a dream, for that love I pray;
Just a dream to sleep,
It comes and it goes away.

Tuesday, 25 October 2011


In the darkness I am the black wind,
In the silence I am the white noise;
I move as the insect, on the forest floor:
Don't stop, just keep moving.
Just keep going;
Before you become stale,
Before you blend into the cacophony,
Before you are swallowed up
By everything around you,
Before you become, before its time.

The pictures within pictures,
In backgrounds on the wall,
Will never be, will never see,
The big picture of it all.

You look at the flowers too long,
You will see them mulch and wilt away;
You hold on to the dog too long,
It is never going to stay,
Understand it is just a stray,
It will come around some other day.

Wednesday, 19 October 2011

The Ying-Yang of me

I have my moments, my piece to camera,
My moments in the sun;
Still the doppelgänger brings the hate,
The dark clouds roll near,
Nights prowl closer and closer,
The black has almost come.

I fill my world with smiles,
To break up the coming night;
Still the black injects, my soul it infects,
I cannot win this fight.
And every smile I give,
And every smile I take,
I leave a string of changed courses,
Rolling in my wake.

The black it floods out of me,
In every kiss and touch,
Dousing flames of passion,
With an inferno that's just too much.
Oil ignited with blank emotion,
Fires of beauty that burn so deep,
Some water, beat it back, spill an ocean;
A pipe, a lamp, please someone that will keep.

The sun slowly sets on me,
With shoulder and nose bright red;
I over-did it once again, the only souvenir the pain,
It doesn't matter: all is said;
And the sun fall from its highest height,
Because at its best it's dead.

Tuesday, 18 October 2011

It's Not God

Praise God, Praise God;
All hail! Praise God,
Thank you for what we are about to receive,
Thank you for what has just happened! ...
Always silence, never 'your welcome',
I ask you how can we truly believe?

Help me my Lord, Help me please,
I beg you and I fall to my knees;
When your helpless you need a release,
To calm your fears, to explain your luck;
Let me postulate; if there is a God,
He doesn't give a fuck.

We are nothing more
Than fishy-wishies, in a tank,
No better than a whore;
We do what we can to survive:
Just seeds scattered upon the shore.
We see it and look away.

It makes me laugh, and it makes me cry,
When I see your blind faith innocence;
That fresh beck sparkle buried within your eye,
I sigh, I want to show you more,
I would teach you everything I ever saw, I ever knew,
I will teach you to be a whore.

Once again we travel all day, and still remain
Nowhere, from where we once set-off,
My life so full from living, yet my heart
Has never been so bare,
I have no prayers to throw out there;
I have no reason: I'll always love and always care.

Friday, 14 October 2011

Every Animal Dies Alone

These old clothes don't smell of you no more;
The smell of youth and Summers on the shore,
Just dead cigarette smoke and tears.

These dry lips ain't smiling with your kisses these days;
The set of white soldiers, singing sweet love-songs,
All I have is the swollen gums and gristle of gritted teeth.

These hazy eyes wont find what they're searching for;
The beauty of sepia smiles and slow motion, on an Autumn day,
All that is left to see ripples in these piteous tear-drops.

I will love you with all my heart,
And any pain you can mend;
But a man that can find no love for himself
Will only hurt in the end.

These hard cold hands still miss your touch;
Biting Winters by the fire and early mornings in bed,
Now all they do is hold each other, pray to hear those words we said.

These blistered feet don't move so fast, aching for those days,
Carrying you and I, when they would chase you up the hill;
All they do now is shuffle along this cold dark floor.

This heart can't love anything these days, not like it once loved you;
Poured it all at your feet, watched it drain away,
Now all I have is this gaping wound, the place where I held you.

The only comfort in this lonely pain,
The only thing that's forever;
The only thing that's true.

Tuesday, 11 October 2011

Between The Black Of Night

In the Payne's grey hue of morn,
I wake to the sweet melody
Of raindrops on puddles and guttering;
A sweet song of light rain and silence,
A dance, serene, and nothing more.
The night before had brought me out,
Into the cool dim of the streets I know,
Walking the boundary,
Marking my place;
I meandered through side-streets and alleys,
Drifting on a shadowy wake,
Seen from just the corner of the eye,
And never seen again.
I rest, I breath, I spray my mark,
In the places you speed up;
I watch you in your Halloween black world,
Smiling, and blind,
You never see me in the places you don't look.
We pass each other by, carry on,
Never two worlds to cross,
Even though we live in the very same place,
Yet come the ashen sky, pulling forth the day,
You don't see where I lie, alone,
In the Payne's grey morn, I am gone.

Monday, 10 October 2011

You Spin The Wheel (The House Always Wins)

I am a trouble, bad news;
That guy you're all warned about,
I live fast, I'm handsome, and I know I'm going to die young;
I'm not scared! Misadventure, drugs, women, booze?
But there is no time for a snooze,
If your not fast your last,
Or at least that is what I used to say,
Way back in the past, when I caught myself out,
I slowed down, I stopped,
'I need to take care of me',
Yet I always have been this selfish man,
I've done it since day one: I do it unconsciously;
So what did I mean, what did it all mean?
Love god, love thy neighbour, sit down, stand up;
Love the queen?
I tried it all, all with the help of the lies,
The feted fakery of life's green-screen;
Create the mood, set the tone,
And you can have it all: five-ten but I was feeling
Ten feet tall,
They say that the greater the height
The easier it is to use the elevator,
Or something along those lines.
But I am lost in this life and I don't know where to go;
I am trying to programme my satellite navigator,
Come one come all, see my failings,
See the one man comedy show,
The tragedy of me; all smoke and mirrors,
And now it is a foggy day, with me
Just a blank shadow, a stain
On the crisp white blanket:
Strong bleach and a boil wash will sort that out.
I am a man of many problems,
Heck, they say it everyday,
Wrap them up, write my address, and send them on their way;
Someone phone France, and ask them if a problem can come stay,
Either one of us have to get away,
And when I come back on that sunny day,
I will have time on my side, I will know what to say;
Like Santa reading letters come Christmas day.
I will say;
I am sorry I'm so naughty,
But your so nice,
We tried it once, we've both grown,
And I am a good boy now,
So why shouldn't we try it twice?
Then I will see, that hole dug by me,
And I will know the time;
Time to use it,
The wings have beat,
I have already lost you,
So I start each day and bid the rest

Pyjama Thoughts On A Monday

In the tired, lonely grey mornings
I find peace, in the silence
The mute wind combing trees,
And leaves from trees, mottled streets
Of cordovan, crimson and ecru;
Workers struggling to move,
On the way to work, in the absence of light,
Never to see the day,
In a day struggling to even get going.
The dirty unshaven world,
Late out of bed, with black bag eyes,
And a cold, ear-burning head;
A day for hot mugs, in-front of hot fires,
With hot kisses, hot topics, hot actors
In that hot new film, on that hot DVD
You got from that hot guy in the pub last week.
Still, its Monday, you have to go to work;
You put your coat on, step outside,
The Autumn morning, waiting there,
Punches you straight in the face.
I find peace in the silence,
Before I get out of bed in the morning.

Saturday, 8 October 2011

Alone In The Dark

It will hunt you down,
Track you like a wolf,
It will take you by surprise
With smiles, and for the moment
All of you engulf,
It will wear you down with kindness,
Wire walking
Upon those heart-strings,
Ever cool, ever talking,
It will give the angels wings.
Then as it has you cornered,
And ready for the kill,
It will leave you go,
Wont take you heart, wont take your soul,
Its the hunt that gives the thrill.
It will always have its mate
And a pack back at its den,
The one to forever sate.
The one, the tomorrow,
The where; the when?

Thursday, 6 October 2011

At The Forefronts Of Science

Whom decided, on cod liver oil?
Was it those people, with the big noses,
Those big hats, and the cauldron on the boil?
Don't you find it so bizarre, That a person
Might stuff a duck full of food, cut out the liver,
And call it foie gras!
What call we these people, with their discoveries now,
That are so widespread, and so often revered?
I call them scientists, I call them pioneers,
Although I think in their own time,
They might have been somewhat feared!
So this one goes to all those,
That dare to ask, and dare to put it to the test,
Lay aside your morals, and your ethics;
Please continue your experiments,
And to wash with the rest.

Once I Get In

You have pushed me off on a downward spiral,
We were meant to be friends,
The relief of coming up for air,
Leaving divers with the bends.
I know its not you but me,
Your just a little bit of soap powder,
I'm just water thinking I'm running free.
I need to get out of this tunnel,
I can feel it coming in on me;
I'm all out of mushroom
And the little door out,
Is barely big enough to see,
Someone show me the sign,
O, give me that bottle,
The one over there,
The one labelled, 'Drink Me'.

Walking In The Wind

As the sand swarms about our feet,
And little grains break away
Biting at the skin, the face
And whatever is exposed,
From beneath the layers,
From within;
Bitten, biting
Like the sea at our toes.

We crouch down, inside
The divot on the dunes,
You shiver the cold north sea
From your skin, catching our breath,
And getting a taste for your surroundings.

I lie in the silence of this;
The exposed cave,
And flat on my back I feel
The warmth and peace,
The wild nothing of Autumn,
As it all comes and goes,
But nothing stays,
Nothing sticks in the change.
With the last harvest in
It's away with the hoes.

The clouds rush by;
Late to rain somewhere else today,
And the brisk sun-filled morning,
Soon gives way, to the grey hue
Of the early afternoon.
The cold, distant days have arrived,
Forcing their way to the front;
Charging on the austru:
The terminal breath of Summer.

We pick ourselves up
From this borrowed time,
Heading back to where the sun died.
Hugging close to the soiled,
Clay stained dunes, and land-slip cliffs,
We avoid the armies of sand
Hunting for a foe, running themselves into the waters.
The wind screams at us,
The gull carcasses crunch underfoot;
And for that time, right there,
We were a part of this world.

National Poetry Day 2011

What is a poem, what is a word,
Is it an expression, a digression maybe,
To tell the world of love and hate,
Or what you ate; maybe that your having a baby!

What makes up a poem?
Is it just words, similes, metaphor, and metre;
Or is it your angst, your felicitous love,
Something so much deeper?

We see poets everyday, and everywhere we look,
And we read, see, smell and taste the poetry
In every face, smile, frown, every flower blossom,
Every branch in the wind that is shook.

You can take it all in, forget, and it is gone the while;
But I urge you to take the second, Stop!
Look up through the trees at the sky, Watch the dance of the people in the street,
Feel the grass through your toes and feet, and take a deep breath and smile.

Wednesday, 5 October 2011

Back Away From The Teddy And Remove The Thumb From Your Mouth

You were just a little girl that day,
Just a little kid with a temper;
I thought it would take it all away,
If I could take you far away,
But this I never meant for.
We went, and we lived, and survived the nights;
We walked, we talked, we looked out at the city lights.
You didn't live for you though,
You didn't learn how to;
Times got hard and you lost your will;
Here comes the cliché on life;
Out there you are killed or kill!
I pray for you to grow up,
To achieve what you deserve,
For you do have the passion, the beauty,
The intelligence, and a personality
To realise your worth.
Be the person you should be,
All that you can be,
Live life; be free,
Don't just follow,
You have to live for you, Think
I have to live for me!

Letter To A. P.

I was never crazy,
I was never mentally ill;
I just placed myself on the edge,
And questioned everything.

I don't know if you could
See this, but your eyes said they knew.
You talked to me, and done your job;
I guess like you were supposed to do.

I just write to say thank-you,
I am not sure even why;
I know you didn't change anything,
And you didn't stop me wanting to die.

Yet talking to you made me see there was more:
There used to be the line,
But it can be anywhere, and you don't need to throw yourself over it,
Just to find out what is in store.

I know you will be great,
For the good get greater,
And someone big will see what I saw,
Sooner or later.

You wont want to see me any more,
To be honest neither do I;
So I thank you once again,
And I guess this is goodbye,

Tuesday, 4 October 2011

Put That Butter Knife Down I have Something To Say To You

I sit and I think, and I feel,
I laugh, I cry, I giggle, squiggle
And I squeal; I scream,
I live, I dream, I nibble the cheese,
I eat the curds, And I drink the cream.
I stay in one spot, And then I not,
I get what I'm given, and I have got what I've got,
I sweat when I'm hot, in the Dam I smoke pot,
And I am sticking around, until I have seen the lot.
I watch, I listen, I talk, and I joke,
I bake, I eat bacon, egg whites and the yolk,
I drink, and I quit, and I quit quitting, and I smoke,
I'm calm, I'm relaxed, I'm cool, and collected,
I'm hyper, I'm active, I've ants in my pants.
I'm nice, I'm kind, I say thank-you, please, merci, thank-you-thanks,
I talk crass, and say words like; cunt, cock, shit, cack, and wank;
See I don't take kindly to an insult, but you can call me a plank!
I plank, I owl, I timber yard, and I timber-wolf,
I play pitch-and-putt, and crazy golf,
Once in a while I play at telling the truth,
I'm a player, I'm animal, I'm a man of the wild,
Dress me up and I'm a cad, a bounder, and so very uncouth,
But no matter my age, I am epitome of youth.
That is just life, and I am who I am,
I will live this life, the best way that I can:
I am but one person, I am my own man;
And I decide whether the sandwich
Is cheese, or whether the sandwich is ham.

Looking For The Context (You Have Forgotten The Content)

Why have you, chosen to forget
What I said, in the beginning,
Just before we first met?
I explained I was free,
A duet: we can just not be,
And yet this is spilling,
From the faces of people,
In places where we go,
And its sticky like treacle.
It kills all freedom,
Kills all fun,
Kills the friendship we could have had,
When I'm pushed away,
And people say;
He's she's hers his there were,
Over there, goes your lad.
Your only tying yourself
To something, that will slip away,
Unnoticed: gone,
But don't think, don't blame me,
Asking where did it go wrong,
Sit back, think, wait,
I've got weight,
We had discussed this before
Our first date;
And don't say I made things hard,
Pouring love and affection
On you, that is how it works,
That is just what to do;
To fill our need, not our life,
Not anything more,
Just a few dates
Every week, or two,
And besides I am gone,
Going, gone for good,
In a month, or two.
Now don't think me wrong,
I love spending time with you,
When you are here;
But I dread and I fear,
That you think and you feel,
That we are more than we are.

Sunday, 2 October 2011

Pine Scented Tears

You were crazy, and possibly still are,
And never in a good way,
Too much; way, way too far.
Something about you always said,
That no matter how much love I gave,
It would never change what was in your head.
I gave you love and adored you so,
Even though I knew that day would come,
The day you broke my heart, The day I had to go.
I knew that day would come: nothing lasts,
Nothing lasts forever, and so our future's done,
Just a part of each's pasts,
Any time is always better than never.

My sweetest memory, my greatest ever smile;
My heart still often aches for you,
Love lost's pain is not something that heals 'in a while'.

Thursday, 29 September 2011

The Weather Man (Today We Set Sail)

We cannot be together, you and I:
We cannot be apart,
Everything I've ever said to you,
I meant with all my heart.

I meant that I loved you so,
And I honestly meant it when;
I say we can never be together,
Never ever again.

So take your platter attitude,
Your a buffet, with a complete lack of will,
I gorged myself, I had more;
But now I've had my fill.

Your pretty, your perfect,
A catch, and any man can see,
I see this too, but I'm not any man,
And no any-man is me.

So forget me, move on,
Or risk turning Tangerine-sweet into tangerine-sour,
And by-and-by I'm gone, just as the days
Fade out, within the witching hour.

I may never return, and never whisk you off you feet,
I may never protect you from your fears;
But live each day with a smile of no regret,
And I will live with these lonely tears.

Your body is an anchor, mine the sail,
We cannot survive together,
Our spirits would fail, tear us apart,
Nothing lasts forever.

We cannot be together, you and I,
We have to be apart,
But everything I said to you,
I meant with all my heart.

Wednesday, 28 September 2011

A path that crosses twice will only lead in circles.

People always want
When they know they cannot have,
And people always take
More than they will need;
Of the seven deadly sins
It is always envy, lust and greed.
They swallow up a soul,
They hide away what was pleasure,
They keep you wanting more,
And to dust they turn your treasure.
See what made you happy
Has long since fell from reach,
Leaving all behind in search of more
Your left alone, stranded on a beach.

If you had listened to wind,
That whistles in the wood,
The simple joy that brings the love
You would have had: you would have understood.
But now the current in the glen
Picks up in the deep and off you sail,
This place is lost;
It shall never be again.

Tuesday, 27 September 2011

A Kodiak Moment

I could crush you in an instance,
My little friendly fly,
Instead I let you be;
I let you fly, fly, fly.
You grow big and bold,
Around me flying,
Testing and trying,
You only see the soft warm fur,
And not the inside, cold,
The animal: the bear.
You prod me and push,
Your greed has gotten the best,
You want more than the flowery lush;
But with it comes the rest.
Teeth, too much and I will bite,
You do not cage what cannot be,
Your life has gone on much too long,
A meat stamp saying; 'trite'!
Don't push it, don't push me,
No one outlives the bite.

Monday, 26 September 2011

The First Coach of the Morning

A deathly silence
In a waiting room,
Like everyone was leaving for good;
Itching and shuffling,
Itching and shuffling
In their there seats.
Creeping eyes,
Creeping spidery eyes,
Creeping spidery eyes on doors
And walls,
On windows;
Digesting my substance,
Sucking it out from my skin,
Leaving me wrinkled and empty.
Creeping and slinking,
Like a scream
The creeping slinking rustle of a crisp packet;
Creeping and slinking around the room,
From their bench over there,
By the stairs;
Where the stares breed stares.
The creeping slinking rustle
Like the pitter-patter of mice feet.
I sit, unnoticed, seen,
And ignored,
With every inch of me examined
And judged.
The sun sits on top of me,
Baking me,
Like a meringue,
Slowly, so ever so slow,
And the silence only gets louder,
And the stares become sinister
As paranoia creeps up the stairs;
And I sit there baking alive in the sun,
Half dead,
I sit there and I don't move,
I sit in silence;
Just a fly on the wall.

Wednesday, 14 September 2011

There Is Always A Sequel

People ask me nothing;
I have no answers to give,
To any questions that can be asked.
Can you answer?
Then answer this,
And lets start at the bottom,
With the easiest of all,
Can you tell me what our purpose is,
Can you tell me why we live?
You can utter a pretty argument,
That looks pleasing to the eye
And might fill a big dusty book.
Why? This life,
Our existence, it does not give a fuck!
For what reason do we look for love,
For what reason do we feel emotion?
Do we live to fight and kill each other,
Do we live to expand our theories?
Should we live to smile
To never grow old or get sick,
What will we do when they drop that bomb,
Or there is no more room at the Inn?
No questions have ever really been answered,
Only guessed at, because
No one really knows where to begin.
Please don't ask me for any answers,
I only know as much as you.
They never reveal the plot,
Never in the first half,
So lets stick around for part-two.

Monday, 12 September 2011

The Baby Blackbirds Nears It's Winter

As little Katia rocks our shores,
A baby blackbird puffs up,
As he lands within the lawn.
I look from out the window
And wonder for a minute;
Will these little birds in the garden,
Survive the cold winter.
I sit, elderberry pips in teeth
And purple stained fingers,
Watching the early Autumn winds,
Dance gaily through,
Those sleepy Summer trees.
And all around there is a journey beginning,
A transition, through time and through space;
But I'm lost, on the wrong track,
Keeping the wrong pace in the wrong place,
And I don't know if I will ever find my way back.
I shall keep walking into the Winter's light,
And keep that baby blackbird in mind,
For he is either food for thought,
Or in the distant sweet Spring's
Sweet spring-song I shall find.
Will he hear me there,
Among the fresh grass-shoots too?
I doubt it so, for hungry I shall be,
In the shadows and trees
As I am used to,
And always shall forever be.
Yet in this early Autumn wind,
I can hear the call
Of a home I do not know,
I hear this call
And like a dog to his master, I just want to...

I can't find my way back,
If I can't ever remember leaving,
I'm just that little baby blackbird,
Out in the Winter's snow, freezing

The Line Up (Wooly-back Big Brother)

He wakes up every morning,
A quarter hour before going to bed,
And hangs his washing
By an open fridge instead.
He learnt to swim,
From a wayward motorboat,
And he always bathes, in a duffel coat.
Now, when he goes out,
On a date with a lady,
He always gifts her,
A large jug of gravy;
But if they spill just one drip,
For them,
It's a punch in the lip,
For he learnt that from the land navy.
Now he has got green hair,
And eyebrows that meet,
But nothing distracts,
From him having hands as feet,
This doesn't deter him much though,
As he is the only woman I know,
Who talk on the phone, knit, make tea and hang the washing (by an open fridge),
All in one go,
So it only goes to show...
That we all know what we know,
And if haven't seen this girl,
With the beard that meets half-way,
And the bottom so rotund,
You could balance the dinner tray,
Then it is probably because they don't want to meet you.


Love is what we see,
When we pass by shop fronts,
Stroll by restaurant and cafe windows
In the streets.
It is what we feel
Before any touch;
Long before
Any words are spoken.
It is the birth of an idea,
The flourish of light
Within a cloud-filled sky,
And the flash of a camera,
Capturing all that is good,
But not something seen.
The oil rainbow on a puddle,
So perfect and pristine.
So long as it is left alone.

Love hangs
Like a black cloud,
Threatening to rain at any time.
Love gives people wrong ideas,
And bad impressions.
Love kills more men
Than hate ever could;
It takes judgement and morals,
Crumples it up with what you once cared for,
And throws the whole lot out of the window;
And still
People are looking so hard for it,
They miss it almost every time.

Love is here,
It is always just a moment,
And never a lifetime.
Love is that smile,
Exchanged with a beautiful stranger
As you pass them by,
Probably never to pass again.
Love is the wind and the rain,
When you reach saturation
And stop caring;
When you look to the heavens,
Stare the storm straight in the eye,
And laugh.
Love is in that moment,
When you look out at the world
And all its grandeur,
When you see yourself
As nothing more than another
Worthless animal,
Love is when you see this,
Love is when you feel this is right.

Or maybe I am wrong?
Maybe I face the wrong way,
Is love not this?
Or is love in the unity of a man and a woman,
Those that live within each other;
That compromise,
And work out something they can both enjoy;
Something not quite what either would love to do.
Maybe this is love,
Maybe putting yourself within someone
For long enough to reach, at least a little, dependency
Is what love really is.
Either way love is something to live,
To live in fear of,
To view from a distance,
And to enjoy at your own risk.

Saturday, 10 September 2011

To Those That Fall (In Protecting Us All)

O glorious giant glowing bow,
Forwarding into the unknown;
And taking with you some good men,
Whose bodies they have outgrown.
You move silently
Into the nighting North sea,
Taking these good men back home,
To where these good men should be;
In Heaven, in peace,and in rest,
Their bodies all angels doth bless,
And lest we are
To never forget;
These men,
These boys:
Our best of the best.

Thursday, 8 September 2011

The Sustain Of a Day

The symphonious wringing of wiring;
Loud inside the lamppost shells,
Accompanied by a harmonious hum
Of wind whooshing,
Rushing through the reeds
Of ladders,
Atop the white transit vans:
Speeding home and sputtering off,
The dust of a day.
The bass of piston and petrol drum,
Sits beneath the beauteous cacophony,
The wringing wiring and harmonious hum:
This moment the world,
Singing such a perfect song;
For a day that is almost done.
This music so sweetly sounded
On a blustery early Autumn eve,
In front of a setting Summer sun.
My heart floats so light,
And calling loud, begs the encore;
'Play on, play on.'

Tuesday, 6 September 2011

Climb Down

I am the sandstone block,
And your just a little drip,
Yet you still wear me down
Bit by bit.
I look into your eyes,
Devoid of remorse
And so cold to see,
But you don't look
You don't look at me,
You don't see the love within,
Past the tears that begin to fill,
This eye,
This me,
This I;
And all I want to do is be with you,
I want to pick you up and shake you,
Until you tell me why!
Why, why, why?
Why do I lust for you so,
And why do I love you more,
Why do I hold you so close,
And in a heartbeat let you go?
Why do I cry with pain
And get angry with you;
Why are all my happiest moments,
When it is just us two?
What is it you do,
To make me feel so high;
So high I can never come down,
So high I can touch the sky,
So high so high,
When I am with you,
I can feel it die.

Thursday, 1 September 2011

A Tightlacer To Chase

Like a blind man feeling his way,
Touching, learning,
All curious excitement;
Like the thrill-seeker,
Mapping the outline of a coaster,
His eye following every curve around;
Like a boxer in the ring,
Worked up and ready to go,
His breath nearly matching his heart.
It oozes out of every pore,
It burns deep with his eyes,
Like a wild stallion horse
I cannot be reined in.
Like the instincts of cat,
The hunt will always go on.
New pray, new quarry,
New goals.
Sometimes you catch,
And sometimes you don't,
It doesn't matter much,
And it has never been the case,
Because the most thrilling part of the hunt,
Is captured in the chase.


In the alleyways and side-streets,
I see Mona Lisa's,
I see Vettriano's,
I see bombs, tags, throw-ups and pieces.
I see art.
I see art that is fine,
But not the art that is taught,
I see the art that is mine;
We risk to transform and to change,
We risk being caught.
You see the bricks and we see the canvas,
You see the paints but we see the apparatus.
And you will never put us down,
Though you may paint over our art;
We shall come around again
To make a fresh start.
Take a step back,
Take a look out and see,
And for a moment
Just look at it and imagine,
Your in a gallery.

Saturday, 27 August 2011


Your fear keeps you silent,
As your little limbs tremble,
Your hair is coming loose,
And your eyes
They do nothing but ask.
Part of me feels,
I am sick in sympathy for you.
I would gladly take your pain;
Returning what they taken,
In a heart-beat.
We know this can't be done,
But trust in me,
For I know there is an end
And a light,
And days of sunshine,
Play, and that walk
With the little bum-wiggle
That reminds me,
Of a little toddler dancing.

You look at me,
With those puppy-dog eyes asking,
And all I see is that silver screen
And that little girl;
"Is life always this hard,
Or is it just when your a kid?"
And the answer is always;
"It is always like this".

Thursday, 25 August 2011

Of Mens Minds At Midnight

In the cold dark night I walk,
With haste, the pebbles chatter
Beneath my feet, and in the dark
Something can hear them talk.
In the black cold silence
Sneaks and creeps,
The ocean growl of a monster,
And the beast atop the trees
Sinister woody creaks.
I walk a little faster,
As I move through the copse;
Then comes a breathing behind me
And my body shakes and stops.
I hold my breath and listen close,
For what I cannot see,
My heart beat beats ever more loudly;
And then I see it move from behind a tree.

I break the stillness and the silence,
And set of at some pace,
I glance behind in a panic,
I see his glowing face.
With eyes of fire and a face full rage,
He follows me at speed.
With tears streaming I begin to cry,
To the moon I plead.
I think he is getting closer,
But I dare not stop and look,
For in the copse I have heard the tale,
Of a monster and a man with a bloody hook.
I see the door to my home,
And put in one last sprint,
Through it I barrel, turn and lock it tight,
Out the window through tears I squint,
Into the black of night.
Nothing there but the moon,
And he appears to laugh and smile;
I climb into bed and hide
Still shaking all the while.
I relax a bit and give a little snort,
Was it all in my head,
O, what a silly thought,
I settle down a little now,
Ready for my nightly nap,
When outside the door I hear him call,
And upon it he does wrap.
To the window from my bed,
I give a nervous look;
For from my bed, in the window,
I can see his bloody hook.

Wednesday, 24 August 2011

Sitting On A Fence

What do you see when you watch me so?
You watch me, I see you
But do you know?
I see it all
Like the blind man feels,
The kisses, the Romeo words;
He endeavours and he steals.
The grazed knees thrown down,
Buckled under belief-making time's fair will.
We've grown, nurtured and loved,
And now it's time to kill.

Amongst this mess there is ourself,
And ourself is at the core;
Sail every sea and ocean
And it is inevitable one day,
That you'll come across a shore.
Take flower petals and the smiling moon,
For days come;
And are often gone too soon.
In the dark no one likes a lune.
Like the dog-ball dog,
That goes too and fro;
I cannot stay, I will not stay,
For in my heart I know,
That very soon will come a day
When a ship sets sail,
And aboard it I shall go.

Do you see this as I watch you
Watching me, from the corner of my eyes?
Do you see the smiles and innocence
As the buttons on my cloak:
My intricate disguise?
Or could it be,
That I fool not you,
But only endeavour to fool me.
With coin on back of hand,
So alone I stand, Alone in my purgatory.

Tuesday, 16 August 2011

Lesson One: The Method Actor

I love you, I love you;
I say it to you,
I say it to you,
Is it true? I have no clue,
Then why is it I do?

I love you
Because you are beautiful, in your own special way,
I love you regardless;
Whether man, woman, heterosexual or gay,
I love you because I can,
I love you because I am selfish
And it makes me feel great,
I love you because I am greedy,
And for love I cannot wait.
I love you like the morning,
In all its splendid glory,
Lets share this love like love:
The love found in a love story,
Our paper love, A crisp white dove,
A love that fits the bill,
A love that will never fade,
A love to do my will.

So take this love and share it out,
Give it to all you see,
And feel free to fake it,
If your not feeling so lovely.

But just remember that
Love is life and life is love,
And love is all a play,
So take you life and take your love,
Lets have some fun,
And with it run away.

Monday, 15 August 2011

Look At Me

A stray dog, he will never find his home,
Alone, they pet him, stroke him,
Kick him and chase;
They give him the odd bone.

He walks at night, and in no set direction,
He looks at the world,
Just the softest slither
Of pale moonlight.
In the silence he can feel his peace,
And gives up some time
To sing and to play.
He finds it in the air,
And the hunt is finally on,
A spectre'd glow lights his body
As it nears the break of day.

People have often tried,
But they can't chain what is free,
Try and you might only be left
With the bill to pay.
He does it to survive,
To him there is no better,
He lives only because he is.

There is a point when it rains
Where you can't get any wetter.
You stand there and shiver
In this water-weighted coat,
And as you shake it off
I see you smile,
And then it is gone,
You begin to follow,
The Stray Dog

A Choice Made (And Gave Unto You)

I see what you say,
It oozes from
Every bit of your flesh visible.
It says that it cannot believe,
It can barely fathom how I don't hurt,
That I am not at this very moment
Laying doubled up on the floor.
Your eyes say the same,
They speak the hurt
That you had for me,
You give me back my books,
But I leave you with my shirt.
Just like the stars that shine,
It is nice to see you,
But I don't need to see you again.
I guess you need a friend though,
As you handle this hurt
That you had meant for me.
I was long prepared for this,
Ever since the very beginning;
I could hear your ghost,
Among the voices in the night;
It searches for what,
It does not know,
And your mind runs around,
Your just a tethered pony
With nowhere to go.
Make your path and walk it straight,
And I will walk you some of the way.
Do not fear no wall nor gate,
And know our paths will part someday.
Forever with you your choices stay.

Sunday, 14 August 2011

Don't Push Me I work With Knives

You say what? Y'say what?
I don't care for
Or much like you lot;
Sitting there with your
Get down talk,
That's all you are;
Just air, just talk,
And you don't miss a beat,
But your missing half your teeth,
And your faded tats from back in the day
When you was such cool cats
Don't hide the tracks on your arms,
Looking like railway maps.
Yet maybe your not so bad guys,
There might be some common sense,
Or a conscience
Behind those smoky cirrhosis eyes,
And it is so bad if one of you is ill or,
God forbid, one of you dies
Yet you revel in your racism,
I bet it would turn you all on
To hear an Asian or African man's cries,
But you can't get it up,
As all day you sup, sup, sup;
Living the life, skating around on your giro:
Your an artist, a contemporary,
Half comatose filling out a claim form,
Confused using a needle as a biro,
I don't ask myself why though,
Because in my heart I know
That when you have tapped, milked,
Begged, borrowed, and stole;
That I wont see your face no more, well,
At least until you get your dole.
Don't worry though, I will let you be,
I wont tell you your a joke,
Or a waste of life,
Worse than a piece of shit
And a hundred times more vile. Why?
Because I am paid to
So it is all
Service with a smile.
Just please do the same for me
And leave me be,
Were not mates
And you don't understand
And you certainly don't see,
Because your a dirty little cretinous skag-head waste of life, skin, breath, space and time, with the IQ of the ticks that feed upon what isn't smack in your veins, and a look so disgustingly ugly not even your mother would claim you; and your father mustn't have been on the scene because any self-respecting man at birth would have brained you.
So slur your words to someone else, and not me;
Look in the mirror and tell me you don't see,
Your a model, a spokesman, the perfect candidate,
For why we shouldn't touch dope,
I watch you there, and wonder about the world and ask,
Is there any hope?

Saturday, 13 August 2011

How To Kill a Puppy In Three Easy Steps

Beyond the smiles and amongst the dust,
I sit here alone, in the corner
As my body begins to rust.
I paint images of life in the sepia gloss,
Of a world that could have been,
To all unseen, and you couldn't give a toss.
You keep me here, down;
I feel so small, and you
The director, the orchestrator of it all,
Spurning me with hate to which
Love you call: and wait!
There I go, just a little house spider
Caught in the corner of an eye,
As quiet as a mouse, as I break across the carpet.
I want out but still you cry,
And still I stand, and silent,
And I die.
Quick wipe me from your shoe
Before I taint your food,
Spoil your broth,
And leave a bad taste in your mouth.
I run around your house on sugar,
After you slip me a glass of pop:
The top dog, the cream of the crop,
Or just that cute little puppy,
That everyone loves to kick,
And that fits neatly
Into the bag with the masonry brick,
Muffled I sing sweetly,
The babbling brook gurgle
Of the bloodied last breath of asphyxiation.
Here's your commendation,
Here is your prize!
It's not a trip for two
Or a microwave oven;
Its our star prize!
A life to live,
Equipped, fully loaded,
With cold faces, cold hearts,
And impenetrable lies - can you believe your eyes?
It is all for you,
This is your legacy son;
Now just answer this one question.
What is it all worth to you,
For this, what would you do?
Could you kill a man?
Butter me up: spread on the hurt,
I'll just take the paper-weight
And that fruit'o'loom tee shirt.
Wax on and wax off,
As our oil-slick smiles shine,
In the summertime,
In a room with no windows;
I'm in my element,
I'm in my prime.
Come see me, you don't see me,
Table for two
Come dine.
Watch my feet, watch my hands, watch my wobble
As I walk this line;
You cheer me on and encouragement you call,
But I - like you sit and pray
For the thud, crash, crunch,
Of the capital fall,
And I sit in wonderment and awe,
At a bloodied mess and a bloodied corpse,
Merging with the floor,
I sit still, still staring,
And let out a snigger of a snore,
Still in the moment of that wondering awe;
Can I believe what I just saw!
This deserves a hand,
A clap, A round-of-applause;
To the ovation I stand,
But in the tsunami wave I pause,
I freeze, I halt, I stop,
And it hits me, it hits me hard,
Like it must have felt to the floor;
From spider to puppy to puddle,
It was only me that I saw.
So sing your ashes to ashes,
Throw your dirt and your dust,
Just don't leave me in this corner, just
Don't leave me here to rust.

Friday, 12 August 2011

That Strong Rock Is Immobile

I stop time and forget it all,
You give me hope of the days gone by,
And in the rain I am a rock:
Unmoved and tall,
Ready to fight or prepared to fall.
Ready to live and ready to die.

The days come and the days go by,
Like a childhood in a parents eye,
But we do not tie ourselves to the galloping horse;
The day must come to say goodbye
And it must be free to run its course.
Smile, you lose a memory each tear you cry.

Time doesn't stop it just passes you by,
You should have seen this,
And yet your still asking why?
I see people who make me sigh,
But they always go -
They just passed me by

And so I stand here and try,
To relive the days that have passed me by,
And then I think and ask myself why?
Those days have gone, passed me by,
And tomorrow,
Tomorrow could be the day I die.

Tuesday, 2 August 2011

It Was Mafting (But Never Rained)

You take me in,
Wing to wing:
Hold me kiss me,
Skin to skin.
You smile at me in wanton bliss,
With that virginal smile
Reconnoitring for the kiss.

You look at me;
Hold me close,
I fall inside:
This tryst so gross.
And still you shine
That felicitous smile,
And in return I offer you mine.

Inside you I see not so,
Lets love today
And forget tomorrow.
We do it for each other,
We do it for I;
And when the summer nights not so close,
Never sigh and never cry.

Monday, 25 July 2011

Into the Jungle

And all the while I sit here, screaming, and
You do nothing I can't believe in,
Sometimes I wish it were that I were dreaming,
But no,
No the world still has me at the ankle;
This quicksand life settles around my skin,
I see the end, but I don't recall it begin;
Born with, lived and died in a life of sin,
And so,
So I stay or go, trapped or struggle some more;
In a life I spend grave-digging:
Get busy dying or get busy living,
The more I move the more I'm sinking,
I go,
Go, slip out of sight, deep into shadows,
It's night-time at sea and I'm swimming,
My head floats with dreams full brimming,
In a current I'm never really winning,
And I wish,
I wish it was that I were dreaming.

When The Reaper Comes

Do not fear the reaper, my friend,
For he comes to save your soul,
And death is not the end
Just the completion of a goal.

So shake his hand and smile my friend,
And follow him where he does go,
And trust me now, this is not the end;
But what it is I do not know.

He comes to you in peace, my friend;
Please do not make a fuss.
I tell you the truth it is not the end,
For soon he will come for us.

He has come to take you home, my friend.
This reaper is your brother.
Your day on Earth is at an end,
But beyond it is another.

So do not fear the reaper, my friend,
He he come to save your soul
And death is not the end;
Just the beginning of a goal.

Letter From Up North

Your ageing well my closest friend,
Your looking nice and tanned,
You are soft and hairy around the edges,
When I hold you in my hand.

I have never kissed you my friend,
I suspect its not what you do;
It makes me smile to think though,
Of all the places that we've been through.

I have held you close many times,
I have seen you weep and cry;
But still you get me into trouble,
If you can please just answer me why?

Yet you lie there silent and limp,
There is still some barrier between us;
But forever I will always love you,
My modestly adequate penis.


I climb aboard the steamroller
And put it in neutral,
I don't step off
I'm on it for the ride
And if you are already in the way,
Well, I'll tell you this now,
It is unlikely anyone will survive.

I can't stop it now,
Even if I tried,
My foot just wont reach this brake,
Many times I've tried.
Jump out of the way
And I'll keep on rolling;
Don't try to jump on,
There's no sign of us slowing.

But don't worry,
A steamroller can't hurt you;
Not if you're made of rock,
Just push you -
Help you realise,
The support that you've got.

I will keep on rolling,
And lay a path for the others.
One day, I hope, I'll reach a rock
Just too big,
A rock to stop me dead.
A stalagmite spear through my heart,
Built from the tears
Of spurned and hurt lovers.

Sunday, 24 July 2011

The Doppelganger Argues With Diplomacy

My doppelganger
My doppelganger,
It is you that I see.
Why must you follow so consistently?
I hear your whispers,
I know you want me dead;
One day you will have your chance,
One day you will take my bed;
But don't think it so soon,
For I don't like you, you see.
Even though you are part of me!
If I could cut you out, I would,
But dissolved you are, in my blood,
And I know you would love to help
Me make that first cut, if you could.
If you could, if you could,
Six-feet deep you would,
If you could, if you could,
The eternal hug of wood;
But you can't and you shan't,
And you wont until I say.
This is my game
And by my rules we play.
So red rover, red rover,
Send Mr. Doppelganger over
Because it doesn't matter what you do,
My doppelganger,
My doppelganger
You will never get through.

The Dull Grey Wind Sails Boats

The sun has faded,
Where has she gone,
In the dull grey wind
I carry on.
She shined for herself,
For herself shining only;
Thinking of a future vacant,
Her body lying lonely.
Her magicians wire,
So very thin;
Could bind no tighter,
The whole thing gave in.
She stood tall in her words,
But her words fell short;
Shivering and wet,
Out in the storm she was caught.
This little angel sun,
Just a little kid I see;
Playing dress-up in mums shoes,
There's no need: you impress me -
But she isn't you see,
She doesn't care:
Teenage feigned apathy.
One road to follow the heart,
But my mind says leave her be;
She can't be the one for me.
To her own sunshine
She must invest,
I'll take the dull grey wind
It is what I know best.

Waking up too early

Cold cup of tea,
Stomach ache, catarrh -
I'm trying to stop smoking,
It doesn't bother me.
I work hard,
Make good, do bad,
And I come home and go to bed.
To be honest I couldn't really care less.
Flip the whole world over tomorrow,
Or leave me here
In this monotony;
Slowly writing myself to a CD,
To leave on repeat
When I leave the building.

It is only a slow morning
And it will be anything but a slow day,
Mainly because of restraints
Imposed by how we measure our days!
Did I mean it that way?

What a blue sky?
Reflecting of my blue mind,
In this ominous flock of birds silence.
I'm half suspecting an earthquake,
But I have no time
To entertain such trivial thoughts,
I have to sit here fighting myself,
Giving up,
And switching to porn.
It is never any good;
Nothing beats squeezing someone to death,
As you both lie in bed.

But a diversion is in place today,
So the blinkers go on,
In this cage of mediocracy.
I need to bust out;
Or bust a nut -
Whichever comes first!

Saturday, 23 July 2011

The Rice-paper Paper

It is regurgitated,
And frankly not that good.
I was spitting bile like that
Ten-years back,
And the only thing I have read
Is my horoscope.
So take your harrowing tales,
And your misguided hopes,
Sit them next to those dreams of grandeur,
And label the whole mess;
'Obviously not working'.
Your painting by numbers words
Have, 'Made in China'
Written all over them,
And even though
Your definitely not a sheep,
All you do is bleat like one,
But I'm hanging up my crook;
These fells are full
With those dress-up wolves
And part-time foxes,
Trying to pull the wool.
Take your desperation sweat,
And drink it down,
Let the salt dry to your lips
Because no love can grow there:
Dead words full of dead lies,
Those pot-and-pan rabbit eyes.
I gasp in awe long before,
I bother asking why.
Why do you try,
Trying so hard
Like four left feet on a dance-floor;
I'm sorry,
But there is no lute for you;
And the sheep baa'd
For this theatre leaflet bard.
So what can you do?
Is there more homoeopathic poison,
Any more sequela of lust;
No matter what, time keeps ticking
But for you,
Its life or bust.

I hope after all you did know,
Your facing the wrong way though!

A Most Unwelcome Visitor

It floods the denim grooves of my jeans,
Turning them all slippery;
And me
Into a boy again,
But there's no comfort now;
No sent to bed to rest,
No pat on the head and a cuddle,
No Lucozade and waiter service,
Nu bucket and guilt-free sleep!
I look down at it,
I could have got it in the toilet,
I think;
But there is only room for one,
And he's an ass:
The lesser of two evils,
I suppose.
I shower with my clothes,
Held close but kept at a distance;
I shower by myself.
I treat myself:
A tall relaxed glass,
Infant milk,
And climb into bed
Praying not to fart.

Thursday, 21 July 2011


I am not the light
At the end of the tunnel,
Just a mirror on the wall:
Just a glimpse of who you really are.
Just a handrail
To keep you standing tall.
I judge and care not
For the judge,
I give some some
And you my all,
But just remember
I am not the palace,
Just the mat
In the entrance hall.

The Nightingale In The Lea

O nightingale, O nightingale,
Sitting by the lea,
Your figure framed so elegant
In meadow flower confetti.

O nightingale, O nightingale,
I sit here by the lea,
I ail for you sweet nightingale,
O wont you sing for me.

O nightingale, O nightingale,
Sitting here with me,
The ev'ning-tide upon us,
Will you share your lamp with me.

O nightingale, O nightingale,
Singing by the lea,
Travelling on angel wings,
To wherever I may be.

O nightingale, O nightingale,
Shining by the lea,
Your presence such a blessing,
That sends hearts soaring just to see.

O nightingale, O nightingale,
Sitting by the lea,
You have made my day sweet nightingale,
O wont you sing for me.

Wednesday, 20 July 2011

You Can't See [Through] Me

I walk on knives, blade up
With the sun on my back;
All: strike up the band,
All clap.
I walk on knives, don't
Hold my hand.
I walk on knives, blade up
With the sun on my back,
As insignificant as air.
Strike up a band; listen!
It was like I was never there.

I walk on knives, blade up,
Made up
Of the sun on my back,
All strike up the band,
All clap -
You can't hold my hand,
The sun on my back.
I walk on knives
As insignificant as air,
Strike up a band; shade,
It was like I was never there.
Just a glisten
Just a glare

Monday, 18 July 2011

A Little About Me?

I drink my tea by the pint,
I shower a certain way,
I do not believe in;
Going to the doctors, dentists or opticians,
As I know myself better than they can.
I listen to what people say,
But I don't always believe them;
I like to be a big kid and play,
For it is always more fun.
I tie my shoes a special way,
I like to dress like an old man;
I pick flowers for people,
Smile for them,
And forgive as best I can.
I have many dreams
And make many plans,
But it is often hard to motivate myself.
I am making more of an effort against this!
I am not concerned with wealth,
But I understand the value of money.
I can find humour, joy, and beauty
In anything;
I take sexual references and innuendos
From everything,
I can be serious when needed,
But only if I see fit,
And don't expect me to remember something
Because I am bound to forget it.
People think I am crazy,
They are probably right, probably;
I treat my dog as a sister,
I treat my sister
I believe myself a good cook,
And I believe myself a good lover;
At birth I was adopted,
But I don't mind not know my mother.
I like to ride bikes,
I think the great outdoors is grand,
I like to drive,
Although currently I'm banned.
I swim in the sea,
I have two tattoos
And can grow a beard,
I do things randomly
Which to others, seem quite weird.
I like the taste of raw meat,
I like my food anything but hot,
I don't like technology:
I much prefer the paper and the pen;
I will try anything once,
Bleach and line cleaner - never again.

I am Matthew David Legg,
I am also Leggy Leggz,
But I should be David Latus.
Names are just names, you see,
And words just words;
If you want to really know the person,
Spend some time and see, because
That is what really matters.

Sunday, 17 July 2011

Hyperactive Sleeper

Is this not love,
When the first thing I do
Is ring you,
On the morning when I awake?
Well, if not love,
What then? And why;
Is all I get in return: ear-ache?

I know it is 5a.m.
And that you were,
Probably, fast asleep.
I know I should act accordingly,
But it was still light when I got my head down,
And I have been up since the crack of dawn,
Plus, all this silence was boring me.

Yet, I am still making effort,
I have tried my best
To make you laugh,
And I called you your pet name;
My cute little wren,
But today you seem to think its naff
And have told me never to ring again.

So here I sit alone in silence;
It is now ten past five,
Ten minutes ago I was so wired,
Ten minutes ago I felt so alive,
But it would seem that the world is dead,
And actually, I am still quite tired,
So instead of staying up alone

I think I'll just go back to bed.

Why, what big teeth you have!

I have lived and cried
I live my life
And cry.
A wolf sits at the door;
To teach me
A lesson.
Those spurned
Now sitting idly by,
And I cry,
Not knowing
What I want any more.
Not knowing
How or why,
Or where I am:
Hell starts,
And travels by; caravan,
But this isn't Hades,
I did but lie.
From Hell
There is no hope of coming back.
A wolf sits at the door,
And I will let him in.
The wolf always sticks with the pack.
I live and cry
From the door he is gone.
The wolf and I:

Saturday, 16 July 2011

The Fox and The Goat

Your just like me,
Your just like me
And that, my dear,
Is what is so scary to see.

I was built to take the fall,
And live to tell the tale,
But the thought of you as me
Makes me ever so pale.
Do I like it? Not at all.
But what really can I do,
My life is all my own
And your life belongs to you.

I can try to warn,
I can try to scorn,
As I sit here forlorn, yet
I know you will not listen.
As I sit scared so far away,
Remembering how your eyes did glisten.
Your sweet innocent face,
Your words, your mouth, those little dimples;
O how I miss 'em.

You have to walk your path,
And find out what it takes
To avoid the pitfalls of others,
'A fool only learns from his mistakes,
While a wise-man does from others!'
So live your life, but remember,
That from life you cannot hide
In the bed, beneath the covers.

Your just like me, but
Your not like me,
And that, my dear,
Is how it is meant to be.

Thursday, 14 July 2011


My mother, Leda
Where have you gone,
I can hear my brother calling;

My brother, Kastor,
He comes anon,
I cannot be a dawdling.

My father,
The swan,
Did save us both from falling.

And me, Pollux,
To Hades I am gone,
Your relief my fellow hatch-ling.

Not An Ice-Cold Hand, But A Heart for you

Episode eight-thousand-four-hundred-and-forty-five,
Another episode, and the same old question;
Will he manage to stay alive?

This time the threat is material
Not like the others:
Those demons; spiritual, ethereal.
This is physical: very real.
With a name and a face,
And its own little world
For reasons and motives? To find a place?

The show must go on,
As is always the case,
The climax anon;

The clue: An arrow
That can never match his mercurial pace.
So back vile serpent, back I say,
A man stands here, and not a mouse,
If you must, bear arms, do you? I pray.
Then let, the plague upon your house,
And, thrice this I say.

Don't Be So Close, Glenn

I always thought
That I had seen you somewhere
Alex Forrest;
Could I want anything more?

Like all movies
It deserves a happy end,
No bath and a gun -
Just don't darken my door.

Your crazy,
Your quite literally round the bend;
You bunny-boiling whore.

Wednesday, 13 July 2011

Lois Lane

The hero
Is only a hero,
Is only a hero
For the heroin.

Saving it all,
Saving everything, but
She can't save him.

Taking his heart
Taking his mind,
Taking his eyes;
His eyes
Taken from the road:
He falls
For her, and

Soul bent and buckled;
Lying straight
He lies as rails,
Still holding her on course;
Holding her
The vehicle
Of his once-dreams;
A vehicle with no load.

Pray now!
He prayed,
He prays for her.
The hero
As a hero
Praying for his heroin.
His heroin
His everything, and
She will
She will never pray for him.

The hero,
Only ever a hero for his heroin,
For her,
She was everything,
But she could never have
Never have saved him.

Friday, 8 July 2011

Walking Blindly In The Sun

The back cover closed
On my failed pharmaceutical fable,
I set some goals to distract
And tell all of the new, better way
That I will react
If I should no longer want to stay;
And my future looks bright,
If I can stick to my story.

Through pain and glory,
The sun shines brighter each day;
And though I know
The sun might not stay,
I stoke it brighter
By sending the blame her way
And taking motivation from the light
To help me last out the night.

Forward and blinkered,
I must trot on;
Never to search and never to find,
Never to entertain the thoughts
Of my doppelgänger's mind:
Those dark days are gone?
And my future looks bright,
If I can stick to my story,

Through Pain and glory:
The sun shines bright each day.

Thursday, 7 July 2011

The Sky That Holds The Stars

I turn black,
I turn Black
As my skin burns
And my bones crack;
But never shall I turn back.
I turn black.

I turn Black
In the eyes of death and sin,
The gate open, and I go in,
The hairs shrivel and pop;
But never can I turn back.
I turn black.

I turn Black
Knowing that nothing more can be,
That no-one can come with me,
The skin bubbles and weeps;
But never will I turn back.
I turn black.

I turn Black
You have glanced upon my hell,
Yet your blind to it as well,
The eyes purge themselves and shrink;
But still I wont ever turn back.
I turn black.

I turn Black
Don't follow me on this path paved over the past,
It will leave you alone in a nothingness so vast,
The finger-tips and penis ignite;
But still I wont ever turn back.
I turn black.

I turn Black
Into the flames I go,
The only way I know,
The body in no more, just coal;
And never shall I turn back.
I turn black.

I turn black,
I turn Black
As my skin burns
And my bones crack;
But never shall I turn back.

Tuesday, 5 July 2011

Two Turtle-Doves By The Green Bridge

Shall this be our home, Then
Lets plant plants and trees
That will grow to be homes, and food
For both the birds and the bees.

We can plant a tree;
One for you
And one for me,
And one each, when,
For the kids that will be.

Let us find refuge and wonder
In our garden so lush;
Marvel at the beauteous blooms
And scents from the fragrant bush.

Have no need for other
Far away worldly things:
Be humble in what our garden brings,
And like the birds that nest
It shall give your heart wings,
For the garden is home,
And where love lies best.

Friday, 1 July 2011

Joint Venture

I once sat in a room
With five other men,
Of varying ages, and:
I was by no means the eldest,
When two of them
Started firing darts,
From a child's crossbow,
Into one another
The rest of us just sat there;
And watched.

Thursday, 30 June 2011

Somewhere Between (a shit, a shower, and a sleep)

I'll let you down, my boy;
You'll never have your day
I think to myself,
As I lift up from the toilet seat,
You still hugging
Holding onto me.
Here's a tissue
Leave me be:
Clean yourself off,
I've had enough of you,
Always bringing me
Nothing but trouble.

It's the best thing
For both of us...
That you're gone;
If you ain't,
Dead and gone,
If you ain't gone
I'll test you in the water.
I'll watch you wash
Shampoo my hair
And think
Of bed.


"What a great man, Jim.
A real good ol' boy,
A shining example, Jim.
Thirty-three-years smoking
And he stops,
Just like that.
Cold turkey.
Forty a day,
And then nothing.
What a great man, Jim.
Then a fortnight later
And an aneurysm gets him,

Haiku (jiyuritsu, iie hireji)

Give up giving up,
The failing of a man. No!
The success of a man.

Wednesday, 29 June 2011

Summer Sunlight (It Lights My Heart)

The sun shines all over today,
And in the gardens and leas
The dance of the butterflies begin to play,
And with a bit of hay-fever I do sometimes sneeze;
But never will it stop me, from
Smelling sweet flowers and climbing trees.

A soft kissing breeze picks up
In the clear cloudless skies,
Gaiety and mirth overflow in the pup,
As she canters and bounds after flies;
And nothing today can diminish this smile
Even in the afternoon storm surprise.

In the Summer glow I can feel
Nothing other than utter joy;
New-born everything seems so real,
And I: the curious little boy.
The sun's sun beams, she does,
But in my courting advances she is so coy.

No more! I cannot live,
Without my partner - this smile,
And for it, anything I would give
And would walk a million mile.
I can but love, only until forever
Or until my mind senile!

O heavenly world what more can you do!
This love shines so brightly
And from here, so do you.

Tuesday, 28 June 2011

The Power of the Sun

As I idly stretch, and slyly smile;
I look outside and think a while,
My future seems bright and the course seems true,
I am a million miles from the past week or two!
Is it the sun and the magic of her love,
That from beneath my troubles has lifted me above?
Or something else that I cannot see,
That has come from the blue but always been in me;
I know it so, and to me it please;
Because it is a result of both of these.
From the sun, love and all her wealth,
But the choice to act could be made only by myself.
Now I will continue to make myself better
And for her love I will always serve, and will never forget her,
I cannot choose her path in life,
I can but hope that she will stay, be my friend, lover, husband and wife?
All I can do is love her so
And support her and do my best for her, where ever she may go.
The gift of life she has given unto me,
So always and forever I am hers, eternally.
She may wish to leave me be,
Never I will stop her in being free;
And if she should ever need me, or should ever fall,
I shall be there with her, I would give her my all,
For to love and to never expect any return,
Is the only way in love to learn;
So for her I shall be as selfless as a mother,
The only way to being a true lover,
I will always praise the sun for shining on me,
And in her light of all things see only the beauty.
I have been down many paths not so great,
But of my past and my mistakes I do not regret and do not hate,
Without them I could never be me,
And this sunny world I would not see,
I do not ever want to go backwards though,
For in myself and in the sun, I only want to grow;
I do not expect it all to be an easy ride,
Of my fears, I must face; I can no longer run and hide.
This is the only way to ever truly be free,
And in this sun I can finally see me.

Monday, 27 June 2011


Yes the red raw skin does sting,
But without I would not feel
Each and every movement that I make;
Where every fold doth end
And every crease begin.

Yes through the pain I grin,
Because without it I mightn't remember
That day in the sun spent with you;
Where every cloud was silver
And every love so true.

Yes the pain will dull,
And the tan will stay much longer,
The sun will shine again:
Topless, I will think myself clever;
Tan and burn will come again
But this love will last forever.

Friday, 24 June 2011

The Bird's Song Sings Of You

And the sweetest song that is sung,
Is sung by the smallest sweet singing bird;
That sits atop the lofty tree,
In this big wide world.

I look at you among the branches,
And listen to the sweets,
Of that sweet song that you sing,
And the harmony
With the other bird-tweets.

And all the while I think of you,
And keeping you to myself,
But in my heart I know,
That it is best to share this wealth:

The priceless melodies and music,
By the smallest sweet singing bird;
That sings the sweetest song that is sung.

Thursday, 23 June 2011

They Can't Stop It

They did lock me up,
They guarded me day and night,
They doped me up,
They never let me out of sight.

They can't stop now,
They wont change who I am,
They don't even know how,
They watch the sacrafice of a lamb.

We can see it all,
We know what is going on,
We stand forever tall,
We will live when the body has gone.

We know what must be done,
We know where to go,
We know it will be won,
We know not so!

I am all alone,
I am also free,
I am sat on my throne,
I am waiting for me.

I cannot go on like this,
I cannot stay in this place,
I cannot keep taking the piss,
I cannot keep spitting in my face.

Monday, 30 May 2011

Count Me Out

In the silence of the day,
The clock tick
My only friend, and faux
The fur stirs upon my skin,
And the dumb calls
From out of sight,
Whispers of new worlds, on the other side
Of a still dark night.

Looking up at the mottled glass,
I paw the door, helpless;
Helplessly dreaming of a future,
Where this present
Is past, forgotten so much
Just a scar of a suture;
And in the rainbow glow
Of the mottled glass door,
I am all so utterly helpless.

The thick motionless air,
Sits sullen, and breathes
Life into this deathly scene;
And still I wait,
To take his place:
Is it not the other side,
That is said to be green?
But it always seems so, that
I am all so utterly helpless.

Thursday, 26 May 2011

It was an Inside Job

Beside the smooth soft skin,
Sits the rough patches
And the broken chewed nails;
Behind the friendly smile,
Lies chipped yellowing teeth
And screams shouts wails;
Under these unbecoming clothes,
Folds a poisoning penis
And the threat of another;
Over these broad shoulders,
Hides an unknown past
And no father or mother;
Inside these dark eyes,
Plays the silent thoughts
And the push to become true;
Within this one man,
There is a war raging
And another trying to get through.

Wednesday, 25 May 2011

The Stone in the Shoe

And so begins the test, you snake in the grass;
But your poison wont touch me
And your parasitic spines wont get me,
Because I am salt and I am ice,
And you can't see the storm coming,
By then the destruction will be.
And the slithering smile
But a lonely seed in the sand.
And the sand the desert.

No longer the flesh and bones
Of life, you no longer human,
And find the water,
Please follow those footprints
In the sand and in the water;
Let a conscience be your ballast,
And may it keep your head beneath.
And not even the fish
Would nibble at your flesh.

You beautiful lie, you beautiful lie,
Just hiding a hideous truth,
With your sweetness, and blasphemy
And some doctored proof.
Just look what you have got
And nothing is worth a smile,
Because nothing is really truth,
And you are all alone.