Tuesday, 29 May 2012


Similarity spawns sentiments and
can also stir awake some stagnant thoughts
where fingertips long for the grit of sand
and ears salute the distant sound of boats.

A faint bell is chiming towards the coast
and my forgotten moments flock like clouds,
gathering at the point I miss the most,
pointing out loved faces among the crowds.

Sometimes my flock must endure stormy seas
and faces become lost within the blue
but I know they'll be guided by the breeze
back to the point where their radiance grew.

I will continue to let my ships roam
for I have faith they will find their way home.

Spur Change

Carve your way straight through her embracing arms
and point your pointless paths to pierce her heart.
Use convenience to justify harms
which had no necessity from the start.

Cars dart around like blood cells through her veins
but they splutter out their toxic gases.
The rash haste continues in switching lanes,
the toll of the road always amasses.

Now and then she buckles under the strain
in a display of downcast disaster.
Even the Earth struggles to hide her pain
when all of her woes come even faster.

And we all know, but we just look straight down 
like to a beggar wearing their poor frown.

My, My

My anchor
held me down
but stopped me from sinking.
My drugs
made me productive
but stopped me from thinking
My cherry
tasted so sweet
but made me feel sick
My glue
repaired all my cracks
but made the bad traits stick.
My love
did me some good
and did me some wrong.
My love
did exactly what
I knew it would all along.

Age Rings

Polish can wear away detail,
and all of my imperfections
are those grains in my gritty bark
which I can never compromise,
because all of these rings I wear
marry my mind and my actions
which unite to make who I am.
I know they don't always correlate
and can make me a grubby mess
but they all represent my past
and in turn all write my future.


Satisfaction is an elusive feel
Mick Jagger knew this problem oh too well
for once you have made all of your dreams real
you dream up new hopes for life to fell.

And so living is just a constant chase
which can soon tire those without the training
or those who struggle to keep a constant pace
when every step can be so draining.

Lately I have been feeling out of shape,
I'm not sure I can keep chasing for smiles
just to run through some half-hearted tape
to gather some trophy hardly worth my while.

And so I can't get no satisfaction
in this complex circuit of overaction.


Setbacks strengthen resolve
so if solutions fail
I just solve and re-solve.


If I admit that
the grass is always greener
am I a traitor?

The Consumer's Contradiction

Contorting consciousness
with this confused conformity,
have you ever known who you are
or are you convinced
by this stereotyped con
that this phase is a permanent scar?

There Are No Vowels Without A Vow

Haven't you heard?
You're my favourite word.
I repeat it over and over again
to my friends and in my head
and though I can't attatch a meaning
it will not deter my dreaming
that your word will become mine
in some double barrelled bind.

Parking Ticket

I've parked my arse on double yellow lines
and I don't know if it is worth the price
of running into some hefty fines
or getting my backside clamped in a vice.

I have heard that the wardens are so strict
and will pounce on you as soon as you park
and of all the places I could have picked
I had to choose that with the yellow mark

I've decided to sit further away
where I'm sure that I'm free of the danger
of then getting told that I cannot stay
by some busybody of a stranger.

But when I have no choice but to stand
I must finally leave my space unmanned.

Street Warfare

Segregation sweeps the nation
in a dormant void of action.
There is a hate but that can wait
until started by a faction.
The air is dense, it's so intense
as they both just sit in silence
but then it snaps between the maps
in a bloody scene of violence.

Dust in my Eye

You are the dust in my eye
which has always blinded me
since I tried to sweep away
all of the dirt in my life,
the harder I try to scrub
away your pained memory
the deeper you envelop
into my scratchy socket.
All that I can do is blink
and pray that you'll fall away
and rinse my eyes in water
forever until that day.

Friday, 25 May 2012

Strangers on a Train

I can read your body language
but I don't know how to respond;
I can never tell a stranger
that I am secretly quite fond,
so I will just sit in silence
and steal the occasional glance
all the while I'm imagining
an eventual romance.

Sleep Sickness

I've been waking up beaten
and broken down
coughing up my lungs
with a throbbing crown,
but by midday
I can't recall
what I've been trying
to forget at all,
and then at night
it all comes rushing back
the symptoms come
in a sudden attack.
I can't help but wonder
if this is some healthy flu
or a terminal bug
I can't help but cling on to.
I'm dying for you
to medicate me
or for someone new
to diagnose my insanity.

New Wardrobe

I need a new wardrobe;
this attire is worn and tired,
every time I look inside
I walk out naked and uninspired.
I need something to give
the confidence to be myself,
but I'm scared to leave comfort
and so I walk around in stealth.
One day I will wear
something that will catch your eye,
and if that moment ever comes
it would be the best thing I could buy.


You'd think I'm out of line
if you saw that line,
which I've had confined
up in my mind.

Sprint. Stop. Sprint.

I've been getting behind on life
when I have been wrapped up in sheets
so now that I can taste freedom
I expect new ventures to meet.
Maybe I'll go beyond my years
and wait for my life to catch up,
when it finally draws near
I will race in front again.

City Expectations

flashy gaffs
beside broken bottle paths,
whoever said it's all in location?
Grubs needing baths
give out their drunken laughs
whilst they enjoy temporary probation.
Teen yobs coming off buses
shout out some meagre cusses
to the bulldog tattoo'd man,
but when he calls them pussies
they act like wussies,
oh how fast they ran!
The confetti litter
flies in a flitter
with the gentle breeze.
The man, much fitter
passes his friend, the quitter,
rushing past in relative ease.

The dog walkers, the pram talkers
the drug takers, the money makers,
the inspired writers, the street fighters,
the pleasant smilers, the grafitti defilers,
the sunbathers, the popular wavers,
the sliders, the swingers
the shy hiders, the loud singers.

Everyone lives up to image
placed upon them by the past,
portrayed through stereotypes
by a group of masks typecast.
Everyone can be the image
that they intend to resemble,
so do not accept the pieces
of bad habits you could assemble.

Filler or Foundations?

I wonder how you feel
when you come to think of me
come to think of it
do you even think of me?
Am I a major note
in the story that you wrote
or just some afterthought
you can barely stand to quote?


I've never liked chemistry
it's charm always eluded me,
I've never liked biology
it never involved you and me,
I've never liked maths
because I could never face the facts,
I never liked physics
I couldn't feel the forces in it,
I never liked drama,
it was full of lies and bad karma,
I never liked english,
I could never be a wordsmith.

In fact this is all bullshit,
I loved all of it,
but now that I am not at school
I just feel like a fool
and I wish I had another go
to enjoy such times without today's woe.

The Masochistic Writer

I need someone
to break my heart
and inspire me.

Keeping the Scales Untipped

I get so paranoid
when I've a lucky streak;
I know there's a plummet
paired with every peak,
so I would much prefer
to always be just okay...
sacrificing a smile
to avoid my dismay.

Thursday, 24 May 2012

In Common

We're more alike than I would like to think
and I'd like to think that I dislike you,
but my only dislike is the new-found link
that it's because I dislike myself too.


When one moment ends
and another begins
is the same scene made
performed by a different crew?
When one moment ends
and another begins
does it cross fade
or begin anew?


I have been thinking about expanding
to some new circles more understanding
as I know this perimeter oh too well.
I need to cross to another section
of my venn's related collection
although my next move I cannot tell.

I intend to keep within the clear lines
which display my personalities confines
as long as I play on another trait.
If those sections do not intersect
as I have recently come to expect
I'll have to settle for a figure eight.

I just hope my mind is not two fat naughts,
just some disparant, disagreeing thoughts.

Cowboy Girls

You've been digging your nails
into my vital organs
since the day I set my eyes on you,
you hammered them in tight
in the cool breeze of the night
as my extension grew.

You managed to get to my foundations
and although I was happy
to let you get in deep,
I'm left with a tear
which will always be there
and I fear that this void will keep.

The damage has already been done
and it's too late to wish
that I left my heart's structure alone,
but I won't trust fools
to play with my tools
unless their longevity is known.


I'm sick of this process,
i'm sick of this routine.
I don't like that what will come
is the same as what has been.
It seems such a struggle
for such little gain
and if I stretch for no reward
is it really worth the strain?
I may as well give up,
I may as well coast
I may as well just enjoy
what I enjoy the most.

Monday, 21 May 2012


I have spent my entire life in this boat
which I have been trying to keep afloat
even though it has been sending me sick.
All my friends have been hitting the road,
so with only my foolish self on board
it has been swiftly sinking like a brick.

I can't find the strength to throw myself in
when I barely remember how to swim
and I know reception will be cold,
but I have no choice but to swim for shore
because there's one thing which I know for sure;
I cannot let this place make me grow old.

I'm determined the next time the waves rip
will be the moment when I jump off ship.

Sunday, 20 May 2012

Staying Silent

For the first time I took the chance
to leave my past mistakes behind
when the devil asked me to dance
and I defiantly declined.

I could not risk the burn again
now that I'm aware of their guise
and I'm not afraid of the pain;
only those vices I despise.

I did feel a brief temptation
in the darkest hour of night
but temporary elation
got bettered by all that is right.

I'm sure that I'll still face such tests
and I'll have other demons to face
but they will stay unwelcome guests
in my morality's silent grace.


I have a blister between my fingers
which I have been trying to scrub away
but the lifeless flesh lingers and lingers,
clinging on to my weathered hands like clay.

I have been told that it will go with time
but it still pesters my paranoid mind,
when it's infected with even more grime
with every dirty job that I find.

I cannot simply rest my grubby hands
because they will always need distraction
from either anyone who understands
or anyone who provides them action.

And when the dead skin finally recedes
I will be left with all my restless needs...

Forgotten Land

Some forgotten land with filth
fouling what could be fair,
with crushed plastic coffee cups
keeping confused foxes awake,
and tissue hanging from the tree
like a flag of invasive dominance
as man claims the land as his,
but the life still shines through the dirt
whilst spring bulbs are growing in confidence
in an explosion of bright fashions
which the barbed fences can barely contain
and the skies are so much clearer
than the shingles of glass sweeping the floor.
Even here, in this forgotten land
I can't help but feel the fair will prevail.


Foundations crumble over the passed years
and our monuments become our ruins.
We begin to architect our own fears
without noticing what we are doing.

We are the dust among our own rubble,
forever floating in a silent linger,
thick enough to cause lungs so much trouble
but fine enough to slip through our fingers.

And all of this beauty will be a mess
which must be swept up as if it was fake
to be covered up in some glossy dress
to distract from the chaos that we make.

Recently I have started to see the cracks
which cannot disguise what humanity lacks.

Decadent Depression

This self indulgent hypersensitivity
cannot continue to define me
because constant self-pity
is the worst form of vanity.


The dissonant din of my daily life
is drowning away my dreamlike daze,
piercing my pondering with a knife
which twists and turns with every chattered craze.

All these voices ring like morning alarms
which cause a cacophonous constant buzz,
loudly assuring that it never harms
whilst my claustrophobic mind tells me it does.

So I try to retreat to my dreamy shell
where I can only hear the beat of my thoughts
but they're always interrupted by that bell
that shrilly cries out some meaningless quotes.

And someday I'll die and all chaos will cease
and then perhaps I'll finally find peace.


I prefer the possibility to the practice
because the fact is I only crave flattery,
so faun over me but don't fornicate
unless your words are felt eternally;
for if not I will dress up my dismissal
about as well as you dress your desires.


All of my heroes
have already talked about
what I want to say.

Thursday, 17 May 2012

Sick Of Feeling Sick

When did my immune system grow so weak,
where I was once always healthy and well?
I now feel so sick that I cannot speak,
my throat is bone-dry and it burns like hell.

Where along the line did I lose my strength
to become this faint, pale, miserable mess?
I would once try and go to any length
but now I'm content to settle for less.

Why do I always become so dizzy
when I stand to my aching feet in haste?
I feel like I'm always keeping busy
but I am letting my life go to waste.

I cannot stand all of this feeling ill
and I feel a slave to my failing will.


I keep feeling uneasy when passing under rotten bridges
as though they'd collapse down onto my head.
I keep feeling queasy whenever I peer in full fridges
as though the food would swallow me whole instead.

I feel a deep anxiety
about my role in society
and where I will fit.
I feel a deep anxiety
about this ill-formed society
and my obligation to live in it.

I keep feeling lost whenever I enter a room
as though every stranger is hostile.
I keep feeling a growing sense of gritted gloom
every time I must force a pseudo-friendly smile.

I feel a deep anxiety
about my role in society
and where I will fit.
I feel a deep anxiety
about this ill-formed society
and my obligation to live in it.

I keep feeling a filthy, feculent shame
every time I remember the subjects in my dreams.
I keep feeling as though everyone else is to blame
just because their reality is never what it seems.

I feel a deep anxiety
about my role in society
and where I will fit.
I feel a deep anxiety
about this ill-formed society
and my obligation to live in it.

The Reason why I can't see the Sunspots in your Eyes

Staring at the sun
makes things seem brighter
but it can make you blind,
so that just when things seem lighter
there's only darkness to find.

Cast Your Sleeves Aside

I will never make a cry for help
because nobody deserves to see my tears
and no matter how loud I cry
it seems as though nobody ever hears.
I feel naked to the world
whenever I expose my fears
but I feel safe in my skin
because I know that noone peers.

I will never be bitter;
I just hate anything sickly sweet
and I'm not a quitter;
or at least until I sense defeat,
but this is the end,
I know when I have been beat
when I can no longer defend
against any adversary I meet.

Friday, 11 May 2012

In Love with a Feeling

My smiling lips now have an upturned curl
which is usually caused by a girl
but this time I have noone but myself.
That is not to say that I am alone
for, even if I may be on my own,
in terms of friendship I have found my wealth.

I have recently got those butterflies
I used to get when I looked in her eyes
and it feels so strange to feel this way.
It feels like a torch shining through my ribcage
onto my skin, so radiant it can't age,
I have been illuminated by the day.

Once again, love has left me reeling
but this time I'm love with a feeling.

Thursday, 10 May 2012

Straight Face

Sometimes, I feel happy
and rarely I feel sad
but it's this void in-between
which makes me feel bad.
So should I concentrate
on avoiding gloom
or work towards
my smile's bloom?

Wednesday, 9 May 2012

Great Expectations

In my skin I feel safe,
so why want another's
if it makes me lose faith
in the person it covers?

Forever alone;
that's the way it's got to be,
only because I can't condone
anyone but me.

Sunday, 6 May 2012

Wie man in den Wald hineinruft, so schallt es heraus.

People get so obsessively engrossed
in their search for that one elusive love,
that they don’t realise love is in most
of everything the world is comprised of.

Every helpful action emits more beauty
than we may find behind someone’s clothes
and to love the world back is our duty
so that humanity’s happiness grows.

People should hold on to their thorny past
and not let the sharpest points cause them pain
because in the centre, the rose will last
and it should be that life which should remain.

I will continue to plant new seeds
and hope they grow through my care and good deeds.

Thursday, 3 May 2012


I promise to push aside
promises of the past
which put me down.
I promise to place pride
in the mistakes that have passed
and to poke fun at my frown.

I promise to ignore
pessimistic prevarication
directed towards gullible me.
I promise to do more
to distribute elation
towards anyone I see.

Tuesday, 1 May 2012


I cannot scrape away
those mourning memories
which cling firmly to my brain.
They make my black and white grey
so if the dark would go
my light could not remain.


I am just a slave
to my mind's own perception
on what may be true.

Morning Escape

Soft sighs simmering in the sky
as the morning bird stretches his wings,
rubbing his eyes until they are dry
he must compose before he sings.
He cannot recall who taught him to fly
but is eternally grateful for the calm it brings
and now it is time for him to say goodbye
to his nest and life's liable things.