Feelings and Words

Backtracking on all the words that I'd sent,

and feelings meant,

with feelings spent

the words only play and torment

so it's about time these feelings and words went.

Fo-re...

Forgive and forget

before you

relive and regret.

Ice

He ignored what he was told

about how she was cruel and cold

for what he saw was unique.

Now through experience he knows

of all the joy her heart has froze,

which melts all hope to something bleak.

Declutter

I found my misplaced pills

at the bottom of my rucksack

and staring at the packet

has brought it all rushing back

to when I was needing

but couldn't find my fix

cause the same tattered bag

was filled with heavy bricks,

but now the pills I see

scattered across the floor

are just a reminder

of something not needed anymore

so I may as well get rid

of everything in my bag

in the hope that my next step

will not be such a drag.

Staring Contests with the Sun

You can shield your eyes from the Sun

but its shine will be just as bright

and its knowing glare will still remain

when concealed in the dark of night,

so look it straight back in the eyes

until it shyly looks away

and its judging stare will be hidden

and masked by the clear light of day.

Who I Am

           Who I am
is not
           what I am
                                and
          what I am
is not
          where I am
                                 but
          where I am
is
          why I am
                             who I am.

#Undone

Caught with my fly down

and I don't know how I will

discretely rezip.

Spoke

Is it better

to shy away from words unspoken

or shy away from those words spoken?

Shuffle

I've spent the past twenty four hours

shuffling this beat-up deck of cards,

rearranging the same fifty two images

and observing which comes out on top.

The corners are folded over, creased and peeling,

weary from excessive use,

reddened and faded...

my eyes have seen better days.

As much as I try to justify

the allegedly impartial, randomised nature

of this monotonous ritual

I can't help but stop on the card which I want.

Up it solemnly stares at me,

like an abandoned child on their first day of school,

I must turn this card face down

for the greater good of the pack.

All in the Mind

Don't bother to cover your clumsy tracks

because it isn't hard to catch your trail.

I see your sole's print where the pavement cracks

and notice your face turn a ghostly pale.

Please don't bother to show any remorse

cause I've always been a sucker for tears

and any anger would be blown off course

and I would soon forget about rash fears.

Darling, don't bother to try and explain

because your words are wasted in the wind

and the only truth that would then remain

is the fact that you had never sinned.

Don't bother reading into all you find

because half the time it is in your mind.

Digging your own Grave

So you've been wanting to bury that skeleton

which hangs around your neck like a hangman's scarf?

Well, I am not afraid to get my hands dirty

but I am terrified that people will perceive

me to be the dirt under your nails.

By all means, let me dig deep for you

and bury that bag of bones which drags you down

but please do not let us fall into our own grave

and do not let my name be smudged with soil.

Bury It

Well I've got this feeling,

so unappealing

that you possess a passion

which you are concealing

within the ceiling

along with your compassion.

Well I've been left reeling

from the looks you're stealing

within your angry glare

and I've been dealing

with statements revealing

all the hate I must bare.

Aware

I've become curiously aware

of each particle in the air

and the importance of each breath.

I feel my every strand of hair

and each thread in what I wear

and it frightens me to death.

Bed of Leaves

The cool, composed wind

whispers wistfully to

the trembling, blushing treetops;

strong but not over-

forceful in its grip.

The stubbornly rooted tree

cannot help but be swayed

by the wind's compelling influence,

she removes her modest auburn leaves and

they drop to the floor.

The Fall finally lands

on the forest bed, scattered

with the tree's removed attire

exposing the smooth, soft frame

behind her bark.

His breath reaches out

to her every bare branch,

to even the smallest of twigs and crevices,

until the wind's ecstatic sigh is matched

by the tree's groan.

When the Fall is over

 both the tree and wind embrace,

exposed but euphoric, hoping that their

unison and their shared heat will

see out the Winter.

Trapped in Transit

Dark dusty footprints on the platform floor,

grubby wet fingerprints on the train door.

All of them transported from A to B

locked in with passengers no-one can see.

A grotty can of viruses and scum

with loud conversations from the deaf and dumb

all headed to the same destination;

the journey ends at the filth filled station.

Although this situation makes me sick
I am not in a position to pick

so I just blend in the best that I can

thoroughly despising the journey's span.

Some could any that I am being a snob

but I hate being part of a plebeian mob

so I will sit with my nose in the air

and disinfect myself when I get there.

#Reseal

Covering the cracks

will not prevent the cold drafts

of untiring truth

Black Cloud

Black cloud,

why do you hang around the neck

of my blue sky,

and hide your happiness away?

Black cloud,

why do you angrily loom

up to my moon

and keep the daylight at bay?

Last Minute Submission

On the seventh day God sat around in his bedroom,

lazily lounging in his comfiest warm clothes

feeling relieved that he scraped through his deadline.

On the seventh day God pressed against his radiator

and checked through all of the work that he'd submitted

but couldn't feel warm pride at his rushed, half-hearted effort.

On the seventh day God looked out of his window

watching the condensation from his breath ebb away

and realised the view wasn't as beautiful as he thought.

On the seventh day God retreated back to the comfort of his bed,

wishing that he could have another chance to create perfection

because inactivity bored him and his tired eyes could see all the world's faults.

Humdrum

The clouds keep shifting

and it's becoming increasingly difficult

to decide what I should wear

or what I should do with my day,

but I end up settling on the same grubby attire

and the same tired routine

regardless of change's necessity.

Maybe I need

a natural disaster

to get me out

of this mindset.

Post-Explosion

Words shoot off into the air like fireworks

exploding into a thousand fantastic colours

and spreading across all of the stars noisily,

a wondrous sight when rooted to the ground

but words fizz out, words fade out, words fall,

and they end up as damp unwanted waste

in some begrudging soul's backyard.

Untouched Snow

Footprints in the snow

have been smothered

by the sky's fresh fall.

 I'm glad of this chance

to retrace my steps

and make a mess of it all.

Whisper/Kiss

Your whisper is like a kiss on my ears,

it tastes so wonderful to hear,

you calm me away from my fears.

Your kiss is like a whisper on my lips,

so softly your tongue slips

and yet so tightly its effect grips.

Matched fear

These are the words

from me to you

to let you know

that I’m scared too.

But I will try

to keep you here

away from our

unneeded fear.

So just hold tight

and let me in

so you can keep

that gorgeous grin.

Ghost

Back when we were just two small-minded teens

I watched that young girl I used to know die.

Giving no thought to what your eyes light means

I never considered questioning why.

For the next few years you were just a ghost,

present but unnoticed in another world

and in my own place I was too engrossed

to notice you weren't the same wide-eyed girl.

Two years ago I was sure that I saw you

but I didn't believe that you were real

and so I looked at your face and stared right through

unaware of what you'd later make me feel.

Lately I have been haunted by your eyes

and I was reminded of that girl I knew

but as I looked closer I realised

that the person you are is completely new.

You have been brought back to Earth as a saint

and I've never before seen such beauty

as that which both your body and soul paints

as though dispersing joy is your duty.

Your eyes radiate a brilliant blue

and the smile that goes with them just as fair,

the light emitted shows that you are true

and I can feel the warmth that shows you care.

Your figure must be sculpted by the divine

for I have never seen one quite so unflawed

and to think that you'd ever be mine

leaves me feeling both humbled and awed.

Your skin feels so silky soft to touch

but softest of all is your kind heart

and I feel so dizzy when within your clutch;

yours is a hold I never want to depart.

It feels like our souls are intertwined,

like we are bound by some blissful fate.

We share many traits and are of the same mind

and I'm astonished with how well we relate.

                                                                                                                        

Now, you are neither that girl nor that ghost

but an angel who has taken my heart

for you are what I want and need the most

and I hope that this bond should not fall apart.

Her

None quite as fair as her

who is my brightest star.

She is the only light I see

when standing way afar.

None quite as fair as her

who is my tallest tree.

She is the one who blocks the rain

and her branches cradle me.

None quite as fair as her

who is my clearest sound.

She is the noise which calls to me

when silence is all around.

None quite as fair as her

who is my coolest breeze

She is the breath who keeps me calm

and composes me with ease.

None quite as fair as her

who is my softest snowflake

She is the touch which flips my stomach

and gently kisses me awake

None quite as fair as her

who is my warmest ray

She is the heat which is still felt

when she has gone away.

None quite as fair as her

who is my wildest taste.

She is the craving I always get

when my heart is hammering with haste.

None quite as fair as her

who is my sweetest scent.

She is the one who quietly lingers

and sticks to me like cement.

Worn In / Worn Out

Standing at the front door

you always seem to choose

your battered old shoes,

over those which are new

(the ones I bought you)

which you hardly wear anymore.

Can't you see they're worn away?

They should be thrown away

and I find myself torn away

because I simply cannot stay

the pair of shoes you once wore.

Bitter Medicine

Self pity has never felt better

and jealousy never tasted so bitter

than when rereading your letter

which is now torn up litter,

so from now on wont you spare your words

and punishment for prison wards

because I am sick of thinking someone cares

only for them to cut the chords.

Knit

Well I watched your wires weave in a neatly tangled clutter

and I wondered if there was some divine purpose

in all these seemingly superfluous intricacies,

like this mess is knitwear with designs too complex

for the human eye to completely appreciate.

Perhaps it isn't so disastrous that a slight in hand

has made a hole in this otherwise whole piece,

or that there remains a loose end which is beginning to fray;

because one day that loose end will be tugged at

and will reveal new designs which had never before been considered,

and behind the dangling thread will be true intention and destiny...

afterall, isn't invention just an inadvertent deviation from prior inventions?

Forgetting Lyrics

I've been singing along

to my soul's torture song

whilst raising my voice for the chorus.

Muttering the verses

like foreign tongued curses,

forgetting what the words meant for us.

What's slipping off my tongue

is coming out wrong

and I suddenly feel quite ashamed,

for I can't find my range

and the words never change

so it is my own voice to be blamed.

Home on a Saturday Night

I am tired of social norms

and expectations,

to wear some lonely facade,

and fuel a life full of regrets and sin

with a poison which will destroy bodies,

destroy minds, and destroy relationships.

My friends ask me to 'get messy' and to 'play the field',

and yes there is something to be said

for the mess being in the field

but I like to stick to the path

and keep my soles clean.

I don't preach a life of abstinence,

but a life of control and recollection.

Pride always tastes better in the morning

than a headache and an upturned stomach.

Adam asked when did doing something

you'll regret become cool,

and I think that he hit the nail on the head.

I guess it's too bad

that people are too nailed and off their head

to notice.

Living Dead

I feel that feral fever festering,

it seems I'm forever bitten, never scarred

and my hunger for flesh is pestering

where I'm craving your soft, delicate heart.

I treat my victims with the utmost care

but I cannot promise a safe return

and what I offer is something so rare

that it is a life which you have to earn.

I know that what I am terrifies you

but you'll soon grow accustomed to the sweet taste;

I might have bitten off more than I can chew

but I will not let your heart go to waste.

I have walked the earth as the living dead

but then you made me feel alive instead.