boredom

So sick of sitting in hot and cold rooms writing myself into corners,

i want to climb mountains and smoke waterfalls.

I want to break out of the prison and eat the wilderness.

Swim out until a rip tide takes me someplace else,

wash up in France and feign complete memory loss.

Set myself in burning motion,

run until there is no cartilage in my knees,

crawl until my nails rip from my fingers,

find myself at the peak of nothing and throw myself away.

Old Maid

You've wilted in the wind like fog,

you are old leather hung over old bone,

desperate and desolate, unhappy alone.

Have you smoked a thousand cigarettes a day since I last saw you?

Have you stayed up into each night and slept through each day?

Has no one been here to feed you fresh carrots and give you fresh hay?

I'm sad that you're broken, its my fault you're broken...

at least that is what they'll say.

It

It crept out and peered over,

it neared nothing as it got lower.

It called forth the eternal horde,

they hung their heads and scurried back, bored.

It yelled at the heaven, beating down the doors,

"damn you God! God damn you and yours!"

It bruised its knuckles digging holes to bury shovels.

It vomited absurdities and was forced to eat its own words.

It threw nets into the sky and tried to catch the birds.

Just sleek moves through wet paper,

the deaf dance of a wild rapier.

thank you jstor

You have handed me the dogs bollocks,

here is the crux, the ever beating heart,

may it long burn in the back of your mind,

one defiant candle relighting itself.

Pure golden nectar tumbling,

becoming effervescent,

exploding to new futures,

like so many corn kernels.

You poured another and another

the circle i'd withdrawn from redrew its self

your greased fingers curled around a wish bone,

and i sure wished i had stayed at home,

instead i'm here, chewing your heart like cud.

dull

it is all wrapped up in tissue paper,

it is meek and shivering and grey ,

light dappled and muted,

a gentle breeze,

a calming influence.

in the centre of this dull normality,

there is searing serenity, soaring indefinitely

screaming for silence, turn off the television

freedom from white noise and nothingness

empty cushions for comfort,

for a head once blessed.

I remember the very first time I stepped off the boat,

weary and woozy but sure that i'd float.

There is no certainty left to me,

terrified, petrified, dry and bleak,

I am my own chalk outline.

It's fine, its only time...

Ignite

Inoculate the world against us,

we have grown too strong,

this parasite has grown wings and flown,

and though in certain lights its beautiful

in darkness it is cold and it is damp,

lying congealed and lifeless at the bottom of a lamp.

Waiting for some warmth,

some lifeblood to suck,

cuts off its own hands for an ounce of good luck.

Badlands

Oh you mighty bad lands,

high incredulous band stands

teaming with real tans

loose nit sweaters and one lobster faced old man.

All of these semi-automatics,

stuffing corn wrapped wienies.

All of this store-bought virility.

Falling about each other, sliding under and over.

A plastic pack of meat bits being all shook up.

You bad landers hanging out in bars,

over the top of you're wax paper packets.

Going the way of so many muffins,

into the un-girdled glutton that makes up you're base.

Well high ho silver lining and pour me another,

in fact shots for all these bitches,

lets get um drunk enough to touch each other.

Lick those lips and close those eyes,

sweet dreams of fresh baked pies.

A dull thud and a crack, it's all black,

everything sullied and impossible to take back,

but reminisce, oh yes we must, over our heads,

over our hard hearts. We must revise and revisit...

there are iron will's to enlist.

We each serve ourselves at our own risk.

Remember there is blood pumping under our skin,

ready to be drawn out by little more than a kiss.

Sell out.

I'm closing down the blog,

...4 followers;

it's all getting too commercial.

Where on earth has this bird flown,

forgetful forgot and too sad to say.

Dragged out by the short hairs,

dragged out of the drain,

wild eyed and tail frayed.

To afraid to say anything, anything,

anything at all. Curled up in the corner

by the fire, a drowned rat, a wet cat.

A bat flew down the chimney.

It's tissue paper wings caught alight.

So long, Good morning, goodnight.

Lewis Caroll turned to the incredible hulk sitting next to her and inquired:-

am i an auther?

yes

am i Lewis Caroll?

Try not to remember how beautifully everything was distorted last night,

Cut back to the seen where we stood in the corner with a fistful of change,

exchanging stories of set backs and miss haps, bewilderment is funny.

Try not to remember how beautifully everyone was distorted last night,

Cue tips for hats and round loving, laughing faces, piling love upon love,

stacking up the weight ready for your head on your pillow, sinking.

try not to forget how life renders itself in the morning,

Trickled light through the blinds from technicolor to sepia,

breaking like a wave, splashing water on your face, look alive,

look alert and watch what you know.

Wish

Lately I wish I were a lot of things I ain't;

a successful sinner so sly he's made a saint,

a daredevil assassin leaving calling cards in paint,

I'll wish harder than a priest

by Bog i'll hold my breath until I faint.

Goodmorning

Maybe you can owe me? maybe i'm too tired

who'd of thought you'd tow me so far past the line

you're growing little cancers in petri dishes all across the town

you don't even know it yet.

You're throwing little tantrums in synchronized fashion;

two people goading each others veins full of happiness

i'll sift out the sediment of your regret tomorrow

a hot cup of coffee and a soft voice sweetly lying.

Next to you, its nothing, its empty, its broken.

Inspiration

So am resigned to circle the drain, in a state of rose tinted delusion

collecting the dust, between the black and white keys,

searching for inspiration in the dead thoughts of my betters.

Pealing gold foil from the letters and halo's of saints.

One eye blind from squinting, through the cracks around doors,

from peering through keys holes and pin hole cameras,

trying to see the whole big picture in one chamber,

When the beauty is in the whole lot of them singing together.

Freshers Week

chuck up that pig skin I just wanna roast,

shirtless and shiny in the hot sun

temple heart bleeding out heat

make the day a slab of meat and strap it to my back

i'll drudge around with it weighing heavy tomorrow

but today

i'll laugh it off as a heavy head

i'll gurgle this happy mouthful

i'll spit blood on the polished wooden floors

i'll skate around in red arcs until i slip or pass out

oh...

Watch as I crush myself through this peppermill

and burst like a squirrel skull pinched under a tire,

stupid little will-o-wisp fluttering by the fire

with teeth that grind like asphalt, earnest new desire.

Crack me off some honeycomb, i'm deeper into this

break my back and subdue me suck out my last rattle/hiss

cotton explodes from ripped seem, i'm taking back the universe

dry napkins flutter around in perfect symphony as I lie through my eyelids

Your breaking off huge chunks of me and i'm plying you with bread and oil

Hummingbird

I watched you flutter prettily about the room

hovering over by the bar, sweeping out to smoke

brittle wings out of focus in a garish parade

1 line poem

knuckle dragger, walked in a circle, dug himself a cute little moat.

that guy

He used to cry and cry and cry,

he'd wake up and well up and the well would not dry.

He used to sigh oh god he'd sigh,

he'd sigh at hello and again at goodbye.

He used to a real nice guy,

weepy but friendly if overly shy.

Now he is vulgar and brash and unkind ,

a bulldog of a man a bear with no mind.

he'll huff and he'll puff but he'll utter no sigh,

he'll punch walls with his knuckles but he'll never cry,

he'll steal, and he'll kill, he'll cheat and he'll lie!

When he was a pussy he was my kind of guy.

brief encounters

at a glance a pumpkin is a prawn tail or a chinese dragon

and a black and white picture reveals nothing,

red dirt is red blood and dust and soot and grime.

the fool

the window sighs the last of the rooms heat,

sifting out to melt the sleet,

stealing a breath to warm the street,

crawling out from under my sheet.

My frozen toes my dull numb feet.

Each leaden wave of cold hard breath

tumbling like cake crumbs

past from lung to lip and mind and heart.

each billowed breath hotly numbs

every thought tumbling in my head

every step tumbling down my path

stumbling and rotten, so goes my part.

rib

fingers dig into ribs

scratch out the last flecks

only to be picked

from perfect white teeth

and politely folded in a napkin

round

As split wood falls onto split wood,

As pebbles roll over rock,

I let myself go into freefall,

knowing that you'll let me off...

As water dives deep and hides

Drowning itself in regret.

I will chase my own tail full circle,

And swallow hard my doe eyed neglect.

clot

You fill my blood with circles like rain falling on a lake,

sadly you are spreading from my heart into my head.

A warm flood of the senses, softening each thought,

a warmth that grinds my bones into ash and chalk.

The blood and bone and chalk dust it is forming a cement,

this love is building something, this love and my lament.

As love pours down from above and rises round your feet,

thick red rain which clots the drains, this rain will flood the street.

As you rattle the bars of my ribcage,

trying to escape your fate.

Remember my love is your keeper ,

your escape is in turning to hate.

Pedestal

Weaving through crowds of bone and ash

You pour through the crack you drip from the tap

You stretch me thin like drum skin

Leaving me too far stretched to stave attack

In the coloured words and fragrance

Your masquerade on ice

Fragile beauty splinters

like incense smoke in light

You lead me out and push me

Headlong, Forlorn, Uptight.