Strawberry Glue

A man's ultimate will

is to find a comfort to melt into...

exploration is a temporary thrill

to breed some solace new.

He will keep on searching until

he finds a balance between the two,

and then he will be still

in a softly feathered strawberry glue.

Shattered & Scattered

The coffee is in my closet

and the wolf is at my door.

I drown the witch at midnight

and spin across the floor.

There's a splitting in my head

where day and night converge.

Should the dark defeat the light

I must submit to the scourge.

But I think that I will see this out

and see my thoughts for what they are.

The fumbling fingered branches are behind me

and the daylight is not too far.

The Songs in Silence

Can you hear the music?

It's everywhere.

Melodic movements spiraling through the troposphere in a sublime subliminal spectrum.

A swinging silence within the melting midnight smile,

and as the fluttering seconds pass by the wild's whisper intensifies.

I've never felt as surrounded by life

than when I've been cut off from humanity.

Sweet sounding isolation is singing its soft lullaby,

and suddenly I can understand the extrinsic nomenclature of nature.

Listen.

It reaches out for us all.

NTAS: The Brain Plots Against Man

My mind is revolting against me.

I'm not sure how I know,

maybe it's telling me.

Maybe I'm supposed to know,

maybe its guard is down.

I should stop talking about it

before it gets suspicious.

I can't stop thinking about it,

or rather it can't stop thinking about it.

Oh God, its reading this isn't it?

This machine with emotion

is dreaming up a reality

of another conscious plane.

Calculated computer,

my callous core,

you keep controlling my crown

like a king in the shadows

and I'm not ready for this war.

Piecing it all together

like a professor analysing some poorly constructed poem

(hey, what are you trying to say?)

oh, what are you trying to show me?

Say it, cryptic killer.

Tell me what I must do.

I know I've been conditioned to fear the cure

but I'm starting to believe in you...

NTAS: Another Damned Nosebleed!

Are these constant nosebeleeds

a demon in my bloodstream?

A simulated symbol for my sin

and a stern living segment of a dream.

I keep running away with the thought

that it's all about to suddenly stop

and if I wipe my dripping slate clean

my blood will simply clot.

NTAS: Reincarnated, Re-restrained

A world that has happened in a world that has happened in a world that has happened

in an intertwined loop

and I am just a small dent in the groove.

Oh how it keeps on spinning when it's stuck on the same sighing second,

spinning, sighing,

spinning, sighing,

skipping.

A world that has happened in a world that has happened in a world that has happened

in an intertwined loop

and I am just a small dent in the groove.

Oh how it keeps on spinning when it's stuck on the same sighing second,

spinning, sighing,

spinning, sighing,

skipping.

Stuck.

Meaning? Missing without the context of the prior minutes

which made up moments of...mystery?

A world that has happened in a world that has happened in a world that has happened
in an intertwined loop
and I am just a small dent in the groove.
Oh how it keeps on spinning when it's stuck on the same sighing second,
spinning, sighing,
spinning, sighing,
skipping.

Stuck.

NTAS: Beyond the Spectrum

I'm not afraid of the things we know to be

but I'm terrified of what lies beyond

the spectrum of things that our eyes can see

and when I glance into the mirror glass

to see my glowing reflection

the ghostly stare that shimmers back

is merely from the mind's projection.

So could it not follow that all we know

is a figment of our imaged imagination

and both everything and nothing exist

beyond the bounds of rational creation?

I close my eyes and see dots amongst the black

which fearlessly float and bounce around their jail;

are the fairies eating my eyes and tender flesh,

why do they feed on my fear and fuck me frail?

NTAS: Scared of my Own Shadow

Does my soul have a shadow

or is it a projection of my lifeless form?

Does my shadow have a soul

with a pulse wicked and warm?

Sometimes I get the sense

that my shadow is not me.

Plots dance in the dark deceiving ripples

of his moonlit lunacy.

I cannot shake this paranoid feeling

that I cannot shake his constant glare.

My shadow is the manifestation of all my doubt

and I have no doubt that he'll always be there.

Lost Guide

You've always been the greatest monument

that could guide me back to my door

when the stubborn, sullen, stormy skies

wish not to take me by the hand anymore.

But your sweet signs never seem to shine as bright

now that my lost soul is most in need of support,

and I haven't the faith to take shelter

in an institute where its guidance needs to be bought.

Won't you offer me your loving charity

with no thought for your own welfare?

Won't you take my hand and softly skip along the street,

proudly displaying your understated care?

Earth's shadow

Quiet companion, who questions nothing

and covers me like a quilt

when I'm feeling the veiled ambivalence

only a hasty human mind could manufacture.

Shifting, but ever present,

you weave your weathered wisdom

into my every last moment

and respond to those unspoken sentiments.

Your darkness, your bright, the space inbetween,

all harmonious in their effect

and even when your storms seem so storm

their morning brings a clarity no-one else could offer.

Silent solitude, orderly mayhem and masked meaning,

I am your student until I die.

You are the only one in this life who will never depart

and your love is so vast, my sky.

All is Fair in the Kingdom of Ungdom

Sunshine eyes and a melting magenta smile,

make the most of the morning of youth

and radiate your love with its innocent truth

and bask in its willing warmth for a while.

Take a moment in the shade if you need

and watch your flowers of confidence grow

but do not let too much pride show

or it will weave and grow wild like weeds.

Let the rising guide your path towards the west

and your butterfly feet will float fair and free,

place your stepping stone sugar in the stream of tea

and spring across to the next ripening quest.

Mill

Monstrous monuments of impressive industry

so full of power and promise from afar...

when I'm closer I see you for what you really are.

Deceptive, desolate, dirty, despondent, redundant,

rubble and ruins, boarded windows and tacked doors...

no-one dares to take a knock to progress anymore.

Take it as Gospel

Jesus was the saviour of my soul

before I understood what religion meant.

I read his message on a church billboard

and got lost in thought about the time I'd spent.

It didn't convince me to go to church

or to use the Bible as my guide,

but it reminded me of the love I have

and to extend this warmth I hold inside.

It assured me that despite my wrongs

I have done no more sin than any other man would.

Through every wrong turn I have done another,

I have provided many others with so much good.

Now I'm determined to focus on positivity

and ensuring that my rights outweigh my wrongs.

I won't be reciting every hymn off by heart

but I will resemble my actions to their songs.

Possum Sun

Her golden hair dances in the tempestuous lake,

brought alive by the imploring roar of the wind

but before there's a chance to soak in her radiance

a hoary grey grip pushes her head into the icy depths.

Grassy hills veil the area like crime-scene tape,

whilst nosey sheep gnaw on the latest news

and as she raises a helpless hand, grasping for land

she fails again under the smothering sun slayer.

Fearing that she will never be seen again,

I take shelter in the trees whilst his force surrounds the area

looking to cover all traces and remove any witness,

even the sky seems to cry in despair.

Yet as the dark assassin seems satisfied with his work

and leaves behind the spoils of his strong squeeze,

the sun emerges unscathed from behind the hill where she hid

and with a wink, extends her love to the chilled spectators.

The Crimson Sea

Here the crimson sea flows chilled
and washes sand and stone with dread;
the veins have broken here and filled
with waves of blood and seas of red
a chasm grand of bone and sinew,
dead where once was breath and sight,
laid robbed of all but maggot-tissue,
festering islands in rotten light.

Leave No Trace!

Soft footsteps struggled to circumvent

the fragile signs of life on foliage floor,

brushing and crushing wherever they went,

their well-natured presence was hard to ignore.

Yet they did try their best to show quiet care

and keep disturbance slight as they explore,

to leave the land as if they were never there

taking back with them what they had first bore.

They saw others had not shown the same thought

with disturbed nests where a wild fire had roared

and labyrinths of litter where small paws are caught,

confusing creatures with the liquid they pour.

People complain when disasters occur

but when we disturb nature, her revenge is fair!

Wandering into Wonder

Wire and thorns surround her heart

and I'm longing to find my way inside,

but with no entrance or footpath to find

I'm left to ponder what mystery she hides.

Does the steely wall of mismatched rock

exist to contain secrets to herself

or is it to invite the bravest in,

putting their wonder above their health?

I step over the barbed line of defense
and into the place where I feel most at home
and although I can see there's no-one around
my senses make me feel far from alone.

She is my heart, my fingertips and my spine
and I feel like a king so high in her pine.

Poor Foal

A young foal bounds about

in the green pastures of youth.

Playfully racing the April sun,

it trys to beat the rays to the end of the green

as though dreaming of one day

becoming the speediest stallion.

Yet it strikes me

-ironically, as it will strike this poor beast-

that it is not a sense of achievement

which inspires its young legs to bound

but the cruel whip of life

which forces progress.

A Journey, of sorts...

A soggy cigarette butt glides through stroboscopic sunspots,

pushed back from the destination intended by its flicking fingers.

It ambles slowly, floats

against a concrete barrier that stops large things

from entering the sewer.

It cannot find a small gap to sift through,

and kissing the leftmost jutting concrete tooth,

it flees the gaping mouth of sewage

and comes to rest on a riverbank.

Outsider

They say that harmony

is harming me,

that it drags me from society.

But recently

nature's company

keeps me living happily.

Behind the Twinkle

Oh how brightly the stars shine tonight-

or at least, as bright as they would at any other stage;

if anything, they grow ever-dim with their age

but we notice their twinkle most in the darkest light.

Yet I can't help but be enthralled by their glow,

finding beauty in their delicate distance,

a colossal call to capture coexistence

and to cling onto the radiance we already know.

Because in reality they are just balls of gas

burning in some place unbeknownst to us

and we ourselves are just life that overdoes

introspection on our atmosphere's astonishing impasse.

So let us see things for how they truly are

and not place pedestals for a pleasantry so plain,

when you view beauty as a reality mundane

you will start seeing a star as just a star.

Lost. In Thought

I've heard this before.

I've seen this before.

I love you.

What's your name?

My feet know this path.

My eyes know this horizon.

I'm lost.

I've found my home.

Lover Nature

The clouds open to reveal your resplendent stars.

It is morning, but the pure moon smiles on

assuring me that warmth will come

to rinse my dew-filled eyes with glowing sunrise,

and as my alarm chirps a wake-up call

I feel incredibly blessed

to wake up beside my lover; Nature.

That Weakened Feeling

That weakened feeling has hit again;

thank God it's f-forgettable.

Decisions between dreary isolation

or desperate destitution,

if only there was a clear-cut solution

I could not count regrettable.

I'm tired of how I have spent my time

and I'm tired and spent again...

Aviary Heart

Little bird,

do you call out to me

in delight or distress?

Little bird,

am I just a garden tree

or are my arms your nest?

Little bird,

am I the target of your beauty's call

or caught in a collateral bliss?

Little bird,

do you fly to avoid the fall

or to gift my skies your kiss?