Tears

Why does a tear feel so warm

as it runs down a man's cheek

when it's so cold to endure;

to feel so hopeless and weak?

And why does that then start a leak

which turns into a torrent of tears

that make the world seem so dark,

turning our hopes into our fears?

Why, when the sobbing disappears,

do we feel the lump in our chest

that drags up sorrows that have passed

and makes us feel even more depressed?

Why do I feel so undressed

when you see that tear in my eye?

Why do we think it's such a shame

when everyone of us will die;

and we will all cry.

We will all die.

Waking In Sweat

Not another of these

godawful dreams

where

everything seems real

and I wake

in a worried sweat,

naked and wet.

Why do I even bother

when, upon reflection

the things that worry

me the most

are things

which are

impossible at best.

My mind is mangled

in nightmare,

but even more twisted

is the reality of my realisation

that it is not sleep

but me

who is the causer of this darkness.

Paper Thin

Chinese whispers through walls of glass,

the world hears everything you say,

but take words with a pinch of salt

for words could be taken the wrong way.

But still the walls will conversate,

natter like old folk on the bus,

and they wont think of what happens

when whispers are taken in trust.

So before you open your mouth

consider plastering your walls

to keep out the wind's cold lies

that could one day be your downfall.

Life in a Tin Can

We are all fish caught in a net

and the surrounding seas taunt.

Although our appetites are whet

the hunger of reality haunts.

We are all flies caught in a web

and the surrounding air teases.

Our youthful optimism ebbs

as we find our movement freezes.

We are all men caught on this Earth

and the surrounding planets laugh.

                                                       We have been cursed since birth;

it's too late to change our path.

Resolution of Lunacy

Back home,

back in bed,

just two hours til I start again.

                                                                    Some can't hack it,

but I say sack it,

this separates the boys from men.

Central Heating

Walking down the street,

some days I want to smile at everyone I meet,

other days I want to scowl and spit at their feet,

but I've learned to keep my mood controlled.

Now I try my best to grin

at whatever situation my head is in

and don't let the outward signs of disaffection win

for I'm genuinely becoming content with this happy mould.

Lately, the grin is less strained.

Lately, I haven't been feeling so bitter and drained.

Lately, it's been harder to keep my happiness contained.

Lately, there has been a warmth in my heart to oust the cold.

Patchwork

Everything and everyone around us is slowly decaying.

The world is a volatile place, and what is beautiful now

may be destroyed tomorrow.

I see the same beauty on your face,

but that radiance won't always be staying.

I feel such helpless sorrow

to know that everything is so flimsy and frail,

the woven concrete on which we stand is fraying

and when the stitching has been completely undone,

when Hell is unleashed upon the surface

we will be walking upon the Sun

and we will all fail.

No love, no song, no grief can save us.

We are all of us alone,

united only in our ill fate.

These stitches cannot be resewn,

it is too late.

Cinematic Silence

Stirring from a dream, I headed downstairs.

I saw a light in the corner of my eye.

I turned to see it was a video

of my life passing by in double time.

I saw loved ones drop away one by one

like some skittles in a bowling alley

but all the while my character watched on

knowing he couldn't yet go down that valley.

It hurt all the more to feel that close

than it would to feel an absence of care,

for knowing how it is to love and be loved

makes the heart crave for love to be there.

Just as I wept, the film suddenly stopped,

the tape all tangled and knotted inside.

My motion picture yet to reach climax,

I wondered if my character had died.

I flicked off the screen that was showing static

and instead drowned in the silence's drone.

When I finally returned to my bed

I realised that I was all alone.

Mass Gathering

Gather around the table

and soak in the dense silence

until each sound is refined

with frightening precision.

Let us sit til the light dims

and the candle's flicker's lost

to the wax painted mahogany

which in turn, is devoured

by the day-to-night transition.

This is our quality time

sharing each other's company

(and that of shady strangers).

A sudden scare

in hasty blur;

a sudden sound,

a rowdy blare.

Was that chair

always there

or did it come

from thin air?

We sit and stare

until we stir

from this nightmare.

Permanent Residency

Familiarity founds comfort

and in equal measure complacency,

those friendly faces could be forced and feigned

but just as likely full of affection.

If we were to step out of our comforts

and find somewhere with fresh faces to read

the fusion of false and faithful would still

be there, and just as hard to distinguish.

So instead of running from what you know

or blindly sticking to the tried and tested

accept that we are all slight variations

and good and bad comes in equal measures,

and if you feel you belong anywhere,

be that a place or within someones heart,

that is when you have truly found your home;

that is when you no longer need to roam.

Throwing Out the Trash

If I wrote down all of my untold sins

on a handful of unused white napkins

would you want to wipe your hands of me

or would you throw away what's history?

If you saw something shameful in the bin

would you route around to find what has been

or would you leave it alone in the trash

where it's free to rot away with the past?

You see, sometimes we look away from waste

because its stench would leave such a bad taste

and whilst it had stunk you discarded the junk

allowing mistakes to become misplaced.

Love is Barberism

When we cut our hair it does not cause pain,

after a short spell the hair will grow back

but cut off a limb, forever a tear,

and forever the sore will hurt like hell.

They say the basis is hair has no nerves

and because of this it cannot feel

and so just like most of life’s cases

to be emotionally detached is bliss.

I wish that my heart was just like my hair;

that it could not feel and had room to grow

and should the love of someone depart

they could respawn in my chest, just as real.

Noone would ever mourn the death of hair

so to grow, I will lose my nerve to care.

Forebearers of the Forecast

Clouds go into a battle arrangement

against the strong but predictable sun.

A legion of rebels in estrangement

from the unforgiving empire of one.

Civilians are caught in the crossfire

mostly indifferent to the heavy reign

Having to choose between ice and fire

guarantees a future of fear and pain.

So people do that for which they are known

and align themselves with the greater power,

not concerned with thinking on their own

as long as they live to see the next hour.

People are as fickle as the climates;

we are still the same ape-eat-ape primates.

Sun, Rain, Mist

I swallowed your essence

in a cloud of white haze

and now our coalescence

will last out the dark days

but I find myself choking

on this sudden shift of soul,

one half of me is smoking

the other to a black hole.

Change can be a welcome cloud,

rain can clear away dust

but it can also enshroud

and turn solid thoughts to rust.

I see I have been raining;

I don't know if it's wanted

when the change is so draining

the morning sun becomes daunted.

Drone

There's a constant hum in my ears

as every second passes by,

passing into passing years,

constant concern from passers by.

The busy bustle of the street

sends my mind in disarray,

my footsteps have lost their beat,

the spring in my step has gone away.

If this silence would just muzzle

I might be able to find poise

but every step is a puzzle

in this buzzing wall of noise.

So I do what I do best

and shut the world out of my head

until the deafening drone's suppressed

and I can see the road ahead.

Kvetch

They say that all women are from Venus

and men are from Mars

but I've been feeling like everyone else

are from different stars.

Both women and men are essentially

aliens the same,

all just different coloured opposing pawns

on their life's chess game.

But me, I am not one for these tactics

all so tired and tried

because you cannot crown a winner when

all your fight has died.

I have no desire to invade your worlds

nor move your pieces

I'll passively watch your internal wars

until your childhood ceases

and then I'll ask if you've learned your lesson

of the world and your words

and if you understand you won't be trying

so hard to be heard.

You're not a victim of brutality

so don't act abused

when there are much worse crimes in the world than

the rants that you've used.

No Relief

Daylight creeps up on us

like an eagerly anticipated break

but before we can truly embrace it,

nights dark creeps up on us

like a heavily dreaded slog.

The day not only offers

the prospects of a fresh slate

to tackle lazily, but also closure

to the scribbles of the night

which seem hurried and hideous.

The night not only offers

closure to my idle bliss

but also a fresh slate

for me to put my dirty prints on

in the blind of the dark.

Daylight creeps up on us

like an eagerly anticipated break

but before we can truly embrace it,

nights dark creeps up on us

like a heavily dreaded slog.

#Method

They say you become

what you study in depth, so

how's it to be me?

Small Talk

The menial points

I want to say

seem paramount to me,

but my mind disjoints

after just a day

and I forget they be.

Putrefaction

There’s a rot in that wooden smile of yours,

I can see through the crack in the white boards

and no matter how much paint you plaster

the dark decay will only grow faster.

The rats crawl through your cavernous mouth

between your wilted teeth into the shade

gnawing at the damage, they head further south

til your hallway throat’s completely decayed.

If you had nurtured and maintained from the start

then you’d not have got in this sorry state

but now that the perish has gripped your heart

any endeavour made would be too late.

So now there’s nothing else for you to do

other than sit in a stagnating rue.

Muzzy Drizzle

I need focus, I require direction.

These contradicting tugs leave me tearing

'til both sides are subjects of disaffection

as I go from dithering to not caring.

My life blindfolds me then spins me around

when I'm forced to start a confused stagger

guided only by clarity of sound,

each raindrop is heard as sharp as a dagger

If I could prick up my needed ears

and use all I've heard to guide my path

I wouldn't be distracted by my fears

and I'd reach my desired goal at last.

But that all depends on the falling rain.

Without a drip my hopes drop and they wain.

Underdose

I need a break from inactivity

because this life of luxury

makes hiccups feel like heartattacks

and I end up resenting any hardship I encounter,

when I know that I have it so much better

than so many people in the world.

I think if I got out into the bustle of life

and got wrapped up in some turmoil

it might keep me busy enough to distract

my mind from the numbness that currently plagues.

I'm dying for a tragedy to put me into perspective.

Hydra

For each head that I slash

off my adversary

it grows another three

each uglier than the last.

I feel I cannot defeat

the demons in my head

so I run away instead

into a shameful retreat.

The rapid regrowth strains

but this is achievable

with effort unbelievable

the opposition's strength wains.

My ever growing to-do list

is a Sisyphean task

so they only thing I ask

is that nothing is missed.