Untitled (labelled as 2007)

An oldie, and probably my most personal poem of the lot. I was a bit of a jumbled mess so excuse if it doesn’t quite add up, but I know it was written in 2007 and was a terrible time. See? I even talk as though i am detached from this work, like i didn’t even write it.

But I did, and this blog is a testament to memory – thoughts and processes are so important. I don’t want to forget painful experiences, so i write about them, even if i don’t want to. I write, as that is all i can do.

Apologies for so much material in one go; I have a lot of work, some a fair few years old that I’m trying to get into digital form.

Was there ever a day when I DIDN’T see this coming?

Is time simply an overlapping of the pain I experience?

There seems a malicious symmetry that I cannot ignore,

As though it is all connected and pulling me in

How to describe, it is always so complex

Keeping yourself together and struggling on

When your body is telling you to give up

And take a seemingly impossible option.

I hear the ringing all around, more often in tune

To a heartbeat that seems a little off

And a spoken voice so clearly wanting more

In keeping with the trauma of standing.

Is there ever a month where my predictions didn’t come true?

My mind is fixated on linking the two

Mortal aspects of experience; Pain and time

Flow with a Rhythm that is hard to find

Except in the darker corner of the room.

Now my mind wanders between confusion

And total isolation. The sequence of why is unimportant;

All the matters is the here and now;

The constant of the improbable plan and execution

If only I could think of a better word.

I always see this coming yet I am always bewildered

At how ridiculous I am when i feel like this.

Emotion of twenty years becomes condensed into;

Hatred – Isolation – fear – confidence

And boils them up to spit at me, constantly.

It is a venom that I understand and comprehend yet,

I cannot control it; that is the biggest fear.

I am spat at with a consistent flow

that overwhelms the possible and makes me

Think like I am outside my own body.

Is there a year when you can feel myself becoming?

I understand that I am what i am – Tragic.

I live for another day; expect to see the time

synchronising once again with my feelings

Creating a void that will corrupt rationale

And bring me back to Earth again.

Little Green Men

One little flash of light and then they were there.
A description; only if you can stomach –
A mismatch, nothing where it should be,
Scaly, slimy with protruding fingers. Catch
Sight of their hands! It was a nightmare
of proportion – Too much for my child; run!

Craft? Uneasy description to say the least.
There it was, pointing down like an invading
Iron fist; windowless beacon of Jellied
Madness, staring with intent to devour. Back
To the house slowly; there is no need to
Panic. But I am human, we feel and hurt
With a passion that shrieks a thousand
Doomed craft! I knew what they were here for!

I saw him stagger; noticed he was gone –
Then I could concentrate at the point at hand.
I had no choice – this was a first meeting but
They were not…..human and they twitched
As they talked; all secretions of another world
Contained in an orifice of hate. I heard
A voice, or something similar to the belch
Of a wild animal finding it’s range for the
Kill. This had to end.

I took my gun from its antique case; such
Splendor of hand-crafted wonder it is
Almost a crime to lift the latch. As it creaked
Open and the shine was evident I almost cried.
All such an ideal setting too, handily perched
Next to the armies of peace. All sitting there
To attention. I live for my country and for
A peaceful resolution. It is almost insulting
To have to tamper with the lid.

I can only imagine the headlines.

The walls have spoken

Go ahead and paint, splash and recreate
I will always be here.
I was formed with a desire, a conviction
A need to be different and expand.
Yes, go ahead and brighten the landscape
Wash the land and end the mood,
Pretend I was never even in existence.
But I will always be here.
Under the surface I breed and deliver
My owners are people of conviction
who stand by their methods
And colour the youth of today.
Indeed go ahead and scrape the walls
And nice shade of brown methinks?
Or some kind of futuristic silver
to show progress, ideal – change.
Unfortunately I am always here.
The layers will crack and buckle,
Bulge and condense with a concentration,
A fury of a thousand souls who dared difference
And acted when it was best to do so
within themselves.
But please, cover the land, I urge you,
Show us just how much you care
For it doesn’t matter anyway
As the thousands have spoken
And the walls have cried aloud
They will continue to do so for years
After you have left the Earth.

To be me (Society part 1)

To be me
And act like myself
Whenever I please
Whatever the time
And within my means
Is pure free.

To be you
As leaves fall insane
And keep to your way
Moving those eyes
Away, day after day
It crumbles in weight
Harmony.

To keep face
And swallow your pride
When friends question space
And talking in stares
Then notice the trace
Divided.

To laugh true
And lie to have fun
In social demise
When thinking in dreams
And sever all ties
Can only Forgive
False promise.

Mammalian

Flicking through the covers
Piece by piece
Unfolds the Sour nature
Of Disease.
External reveals all
Or nothing
Simple Cover story
Disgusting.
To keep it under wraps
Shows it all
Invisible it seems
A dry wall.
The millions suffer
In silence
As the nation marvels
At more cuts.
No physical features
To dissect
So everything is fine
Or regret.
Show what I feel inside
Pure emotion
In a distrusting world
Slow reaction.
Everyday to blend in
Normality
Comes at such great expense
Totality.
Yet society tries
To keep us in
Watering down our pain
For next of kin.
Auditory culture
Listen for me
Keeps the struggles in sight
I want to be.
Dashing through the turnstiles
To get away
Nothing really changes
Another day.
Next time to seek advice
An alien
Will tell me my blood type;
Mammalian

She and I and Them

And she’s still mincing her mind like a circling joke,
Keeping the Hope
Trying my best to contain the globe in a compact shell.
But this old day just spins around inside my head,
Hard to Forget
Seeing her standing ready to strike and ring that bell.

And she keeps dancing around swirling atmosphere,
Shedding a tear
Begging to catch the waves but feeling that there’s no Joy.
Momentum in the rush to balance and keep the grace,
Watching that face
Crushing balloons in the grass and acting like a little boy.

And she looks down to her hands with a fleeting glance,
Holding that stance
Betting her rocking soul that we’ll be holding on.
They move to the rhythm of life in a seashell box
So Orthodox
They study her eyes and comprehend that we’re all gone.

‘Forget me not’ was the ballad that played but no regret
Willing to Bet
The masses hummed and understood simplicity.
But I’ll be turning my head to comprehend the norm
Quick to transform
Edging closer to the wonderful life of multiplicity.

Towards Examination

There is my heartfelt collection
Looking like stone. On a dry wall
Is experience that teaches differently, see
What trials became of me; what
Parodies always bring themselves back.
Sitting on a dry slab, soaking with
Concern; the drum of the clock making
It’s presence known – even if time
Was not ready, still – not ready.
I studied the shade, memorised the
Symbols; all was as it should be.
Do you not see who I am?
Can you not imagine a world in which
I progressed – Understood?
Fate was judging me by my instinct.
I thanked my college for its work. I see
Now is the moment for action; To worry about
Worry seems Idyllic but hardly changes,
Deepens the memory – Begin.

Mistake

Mother to my son,
That’s when it all began
She become,
What I had yearned for
For so long.

Conscious effort,
I thought that’s all it took
I mistook,
My good intentions
For that look.

Clouded judgement
Hindsight is no such cure
She was sure,
My lack of knowledge
To adore.

Dancing daylight
Shadows between the sheets
Beg to keep,
The crippling moonlight
In so deep.

Death defying
Playing when chance was low
I will go
And tell my parents
It was so.

Line of sadness
Fire will hurt the eyes
We despise
My acting demon
Cut those ties.

Distance

Strangest of times
Measuring the distance
between two people.
Barely interacting
Hardly touching
Still checking that line.

Quiet Unknown land
Barrier of the brave
whoever leaves first.
Always avoiding
Consistently breathing
Counting with hands.

Conclusion

 

Solutions are simple, they always have been
Some end product of a heartbeat or two.
The process is the diminishing factor
Working together to make tragedy true.

Thinking ‘correctly’, neither up nor down
The memories of the centre are hardest.
It seems like such work to do the unthinkable
Leaving a rotting thought process to infest.

Constant plotting, scheming; all under duress
Consequence becomes the starting point.
I understand my process is skewed
Yet can do nothing in the trial but disappoint.