Saturday, 31 March 2012

Efficiency or Enjoyment?

I am rambling towards a destination,
full of determination but lacking in direction.
Each time I set off I am full of faith
that the path will lead me towards where I want to be,
and although all signs seem to lead to that goal
and my journey is filled with delectation and promise,
the purpose always seems to be lost along the way
and I end up further than where I started.
I then resent the path for misleading me
despite deep down knowing that it is my own two feet
which lead me to my outcomes; those two feet I must stand on.
I should remember that a path is just a path.
Perhaps I will start taking the longest route
and appreciate the beauty out there
rather than being blinded by own intentions.

I still don't know whether to look
for the most efficient path
from point A to point B
or the most enjoyable,
and so I find myself
dithering between the two.

Thursday, 29 March 2012


I am needy like a beggar with his arms outstretched,
cupping his hands to gather your change.
I am needy to have faith in the most far-fetched
even when I know they are out of my range.
A beggar only begs because he is lacking
in not only finance but also in pride.
He sits in the gutter not because he is slacking
but because it is the best place for him to hide.
When someone throws their money in my direction
I can't help but hold onto the hope
that society may still have some sort of affection
to ensure that someone of poor fortune may cope.
But should I accept I would grow in my greed
and deep down I know I should decline,
for the only thing I ever really need
is something I can already call mine.

It takes all my strength
to keep you at arms length
and this beggar will stretch out his arm,
not to accept
but for his pride to be kept
safely away from taking harm.

Wait It Out

Physical pleasures are inferior
to pleasures of the mind;
what lingers longer than that feel of a touch
is incredibly hard to find.
So I will keep my fingertips locked away
until my mind is set
and when I have found something permanent
I will not have to regret.

Tuesday, 27 March 2012


You are the dirt under my nails
which I fear may become a constant stain.
I've washed my hands seven times
but you cling like stubborn roots in my soil
and in the past I have worried
about how I would look with such grubby hands
but I have come to accept your prescence
because you're a daily reminder of all my effort
and for as long as you have a hold on me
I can hold onto that.
Maybe people will see my dirty hands
and not judge me on how this may appear
but on how well my hands have been worn.
My skin is becoming coarse and thick
and what once pierced my tender palms
is now unnoticeable to my unflinching eyes.
Time will heal; and time's healing will also strengthen.

Sunday, 25 March 2012

Spring, Don't Pass Me By

I've been feeling the longest of winters
start to eat away at my tiring eyes.
All that I've held onto always splinters
and I've come to notice everything dies.

Those splinters stay rooted in my sore skin
and seem to bury deeper to my bone.
They only remain because I let them in
so that in pain I may feel less alone.

But I cannot continue to mourn death
when the world is showing the first signs of spring,
and for each passing there is a new breath;
the world moves too quickly for us to cling.

So I will focus on smiling each day
and not letting my sadness lead me astray.

Saturday, 24 March 2012

Skint Spies

I grew fond of a light which shone in your eyes
thinking it showed the brightness of your soul
but the source of the shining was concealed by your lies
and the smile which they matched meant nothing at all.

Too often have I felt capable of knowing intentions
and judging people to be exactly how they are.
Too often have imperfections had mentions
and too often have they stretched just one lie too far.

So here is something else for prying eyes to haunt and hunt
I know that my words still fall on deaf but sharp ears,
I am sure you regret crashing in your untasteful stunt
but that is just the way that karma steers.

Keep on insisting to yourself that nothing is wrong,
and I will throw you two more coins to rub together
and watch the sparks fly from your forked tongue
until they frey the rope and our ties can sever.

So why don't you smoke on that?
I hope you choke on that.
I wish we never even spoke of that,
because all of the lies that I have heard
have forced my hand into some hostile words.

Bitter Blush

There's noone I despise more
than the embarrassment I used to be
but embarrassingly
there's noone I'd rather be
than when I once was happy.

Aware Unawares

I can act out any of your twisted visions
if you can mask them as my own decisions
because I like to pretend that I care
about being in control and completely aware,
but there are some things I shouldn't know;
and it's clear there are things which you do not show
so please keep them a secret for my sake
for this naivety is my choice to make.

Thursday, 22 March 2012

Stubborn Silence

When I wish to communicate
I resist the urge to instigate
to see if I’m actually sought,
but as I continue to sit and wait
by my phone until the night is late...
it’s clear I wont be given a thought.

Wednesday, 21 March 2012

Playing With Fire

Let your rose-hued nostalgia
fuel your self-pity.
Pour it, you poor thing,
on to that dried up clinging
and watch the taunting flames dance
all over the grave of your thoughts,
letting the smoke devour your sight
of what actually matters.

Let the stinging burn destroy your smile,
which it had once complimented so lovingly.
Let the choking smoke cloud your memories,
which has once seemed so certain and full of hope.
Let the smoke alarm shriek like a banshee,
and drown out all of those songs you once loved.
Let the destruction create a barrier at your doors,
and keep out all of those who could help you out.


Left boot on my right hand,
please understand,
when it comes to being worn on feet
you cannot be beat,
but you do not belong
where your fit is all wrong.

Saturday, 17 March 2012


They say that effort brings success
and I guess that means happiness
so I'll keep on grinning
when my sadness is winning,
and for as long as I'm trying
my smile will be undying
and one day it might just be
a permanent reality.

I've made the effort to take note
to what they have to say
and I keep holding on to the hope
that my endeavour will pay.

Wrong Number

Leave on your bedroom light
to guide me to your heart
because in the dark of the night
I can't tell the exteriors apart
and I don't want the shame
of knocking at the wrong door
only to ask for someone's name
who doesn't live there anymore.

Tuesday, 13 March 2012

Living is a Challenge (Challenge Living)

Everything is so forced and false
set by routines standardized by the equally superficial past
which in turn is tired standards based upon prior customs,
an inheritance of manner taken on without any real thought.
Is passing down a curse really imparting wisdom
when it is webbed in a wealth of woe?
Leave your ideologies to rot with your decomposing corpse
and let me earn my own faiths and feelings as I see fit.

It all seems to move in waves, and circulates an ocean full of water
which has not the initiative to defy the moon
and sweep the shores in its own style,
letting each droplet get its chance to shine.
Instead we get the same recycled rinse
regurgitated every score, until the latest arrival
is dried up by the grainy landscape.

The songs on the radio all the same structure
with rapped verses conveyed in an overconfident drawl
which build up to the chorus, usually sang by a female,
pleasant enough to the ear but drab and uninspired.
All articulated over tinny drum cycles,
which sound like the cogs of the producer's brain warming up.

Period revival in a sycophantic plagiarism, 
or post-modernism in forced contrarianism;
even originality has lost its originality.
Your forms' structures are too rigid for you to convey
those feelings which your mind is told it feels
but your oh-so-trendy free verse has no identity.
And admittedly, even these words are guided
by history's idea of how words should be.

All the religious people in the world
apply unfounded faith into a notion that defies the science
which has been eaten up just as blindly as Eden's fruit,
but the modern day faith has slowly been dwindling and dying
whilst more people apply their trust in other concepts.
I'm not saying that the preachers are right,
but who are atheists to say that they are wrong
when they follow the 'facts' of a textbook like a bible
and don't go out to meet their own maker, whether super or natural?

More faith still seems to go into that absurd notion of 'love'
which is felt because we are told we feel it,
just as we speak in the language we are born into
but could quite as easily used another tongue,
and I have yet to feel the evidence of that eternal flame
but have felt many singes from brief flickers,
the pain I both feel and accept because I am taught
it is part of the process to finding that holy grail.

Is anything we're taught real? This can't be all there is to life,
when invention is an ever present keystone to the world
will there ever be a limit to what we are capable of,
and if so is this limit defined by nature's capabilities or our own?

I want to live on the forefront of history
and make no sense whatsoever, acting in such an outlandish manner
it might just become normality,
because this ordinary life seems alien to me
and I just can't readily accept every experience without reflection
and challenging reality.

IhmsIhtw! NiaqhaIwhothfalail, alatial. Ii?

Monday, 12 March 2012

Running Away

I'm sick.
You blend.
As one.
I'm weary.
I'm gone...

I'm an outsider in a world
where I can find no home,
but I feel no loneliness
in feeling alone.

I'm only an outcast
because I locked the door,
threw away the key and ran
until I couldn't recognize anything anymore.

Maybe this fresh scenery
will provide me with more hope
and the fresh faces I see in it
will give me the strength to cope.

Sunday, 11 March 2012

A Case for Slow Paced Haste

Do I choose immediacy or reflection
when I record an event?
Which provides the most accurate recollection
of how things really went?

There is a case for catching memory in its youth
before it fades away
but the freshness of emotion can hide the truth
and resentment may stay.

Yet if you sit composing yourself for too long
you lose your direction
and what you once meant may come out completely wrong
and convey the wrong affection.

Do I choose immediacy or reflection
when I record an event?
Which provides the most accurate recollection
of how things really went?


My thoughts roll around on a wheel
and they always seem to be black.
My chipless hands are left to deal
with all of the red which I lack.

I wish that my dark wouldn't win
but I am always out of luck
and by the end the state I'm in
I just couldn't give a fuck.

So I throw down all of my chips
and gamble it on being red
but on and on the wheel skips
and there is only black ahead.

I wonder if it's luck or fate
that I always place the wrong bet
but perhaps there's luck with number 8
and I won't have to live with regret.

Thursday, 8 March 2012

Well Weathered

The sun shines down with an intense stare
and kisses my skin with soft concern,
silently strengthening, 
you narrow my worries as you narrow my squinting eyes.

The defeated clouds hide away with self pity
and congratulates me on my warmth,
graciously gone,
you lighten my worries as you lighten the beautiful blue skies.

The gentle breeze gently nudges my fringe to the right
and adjusts my clothes to its taste,
cooling and caring,
you guide away my worries as you guide me to a content state.

The clarity from the weather fills me with warmth
and wills me to wear a smile with my shorts,
calmingly clear,
you welcome my happiness as I welcome the spring date.

Perceptions and Perspective

Perspective changes perceptions,
angles can humanize angels,
but they can also hide deceptions
and provide misconceptions
about the world's distorted truth.

Looking at horizons from above
makes all you know seem so small,
and so you question what you love
and you feel the need to move and shove
away the landscape you know so well.

Looking at horizons from below
makes all you know seem so out of reach,
and so you question if you really know
how to reach the Sun's bright glow
without burning your stretched fingers.

Looking at horizons from afar
makes all you know seem to be in place,
but you still question why you are
not clutching on to your favourite star
and have that perfection within your grasp.

Perceptions change perspective
so view the world in a rose tinted hue
for our beauty is subjective
but its happiness is infective
and will shine onto us in the most flattering light.

Tuesday, 6 March 2012

False Advertising

Last month I invested in a product,
bedazzled by its gloss.
I held the belief that its value
was much greater than its cost.
Beneath the impeccable finish
lay too many flaws,
yet I hadn't noticed this until
I held it in dirtied paws.
I knew I had a right to take it back
but I still felt such a shame
that I had been duped into something
branded as something not the same.
Next time I will save time and money
for something with a guarantee,
and will not fall for instant impulsive charms
but for prolonged quality.

Monday, 5 March 2012

Entrance Fee: Dignity

Disorderly queues for overpriced clubs
which everyone visits yet noone really likes.
Fights breaking out between those by the exit;
probably over some accidental spillage
or a purposeful act of partner pillage.
Yes, everyone is looking to take their spoils
when there is oh so much to spoil,
spoilt for choice in a sea of rotten fish and sharks.

Small skirts, long waits,
tight tees, loose dates,
short change, tall drinks,
low standards, high jinks,
loud music, quiet stares
go down, upstairs,
strong shots, weak wills
heart pounds, head kills.

Everyone seems impressed that you put out
but I'm not impressed unless you see it out,
everyone around seems to be out on the pull
but all I ever want is for my heart to be full
and I know that I won't find that here
so I'm headed home once I've finished this beer...


I've lost my concern for temporary pleasures
having a preference for permanence,
like the way the warmth you feel from your friends
is much stronger than a vacation sun.
So I am no longer making an effort to cling
onto those things which I feel like I love,
because I've realised those things worth keeping
will be permanent anyway.

Sunday, 4 March 2012

Reasoning Reactions

When I face rejection
I react with such dejection
not through being sad
but because I am mad
that I cannot achieve perfection.

When I do not face admiration
I react with such indignation
that someone may not see
the real me
when I can offer them elation.

Five Year Plan

I've been told to stop living in the future
and to concentrate on today,
but I cannot bring myself to live like that
when the present goes away.
Of course, I can see the point made
that life is just too short
to make and live by indefinite plans
which the shifts of time will thwart.
So, I've settled on some middle ground
and made a five year plan
where my targets are achievable
and I can finally become a man.

Friday, 2 March 2012

Envy for the Empty

If I owned nothing,
I would have nothing to be stolen.

If I trusted nothing,
I would have nothing to let me down.

If I felt nothing,
I would have nothing to get hurt.

If I hoped for nothing,
I would have nothing to fear.

If I tried nothing,
I would have nothing to fail.

Murderous Mirroring

I am drowning.
I am waiting for that hand
The outline
I can barely distinguish.
I can only survive
when I realise it's my own hand
reflected by my doom.

Thursday, 1 March 2012

Spring Bulbs

I see children smiling,
their lips parting like Spring bulbs
revealing their white petalled teeth,
and the instinctive happiness and radiance
that appears to have been imparted upon them by the Sun
turns my over-complicated branches an envious green.

I wonder if I have seen
just too much light, and although I have grown,
oh so much stronger, taller and older
than those young seedlings
this growth has been a haphazard spreading
without any real thought to where my roots lie deep.

Alternatively, I could have seen
too many dreary dismal days of grey
which have made my core damp and rotten,
and so no matter how much light I may see
I will always be disaffected and despondent,
incapable of ever blooming something beautiful.

Either way, it is clear to see
that this young bulb has grown to be a weed,
a nuisance to those who wish to pick the most fragrant flowers.
Those fresh flower faces better keep smiling with such innocence,
because one day they will undoubtedly grow just like me,
grow to be wisened of the world, to be wizened by the world.

Waist Deep

I believe a person is defined
by the way they can deal
with fortune being unkind
and suddenly having to feel
cold, confused and confined.
If they can come out dry
after wading into a marsh
then there is no need to cry
over how their struggle was harsh
for the worst has passed by.