Journey Towards Completion

If at the end of the process I tried
To account for my actions, then I write
This testament, for my life is finite
And people must know what became of light
That showed me the real danger; Parasite,
When all my hopes of parity had dried.

Just as always, we started with promise
By shaking hands and offering hors d’oeuvres.
In all frankness I experienced nerves
Like none other; Oddly when I observed
Their drive, the passion filled me with a verve
Which provided false confidence; flawless.

Continuous laughter kept me relaxed
In a wooden environment; they hold
Onto my arm with a grip of steel; Cold
Greetings from dying bodies, I feel sold
Surrounded by mahogany; unfold
Their meaning – true purpose; I was attacked.

Just as now, my body craved the meaning
And allowed others to fill in the gaps.
Weak, foolish with a soft heart; But perhaps
I somehow allowed the embrace to trap
My direction; cementing in the cracks
With a suffocation; Heavy breathing.

Am I still, only talking to Myself?
After all, this idea of perfection
Is always tainted by the direction
That one chooses to go; For affection
Is granted for not asking the Questions;
It’s a concept that should be on a shelf.

The brightness is an outside perspective
That shows its true colours when you enter.
Selfishness; seemingly in the centre
Offers the chance for a perfect shelter,
But its rotten to the core; December
Was when I stopped being so suggestive.

I am awake

Alive and alone in my dimension
Staying up to exaggerate the time;
Clicking fingers to feel the frustration
The pressure is understandably mine.

I close my eyes with water caving in
My mind wishes to flicker lids about;
Body Quivering, goosebumps on the skin
Car head-lights place my body clock in doubt.

Twisting and turning to end the shaking
Rotating to Back, again to the front;
Racing thoughts that my Deep skull is making
Tears are racing down my face; waterfront.

The fear is being kept alive with sheets
Soft and fluffy, a Coffin of deep calm;
Wrapping into the darkness, it repeats
Then I lay there motionless – ticking bomb.

The spirit is contained within the clock
It rules night with an overbearing glare;
Any effort, you are met with a shock
Being forced to constantly check and stare.

So here I am as darkness turns to light
I lose again, each time worse than the last;
Lifting and rising; so try as I might
I worry about tonight; So downcast.

We don’t work (with a feeling)

There I am, standing against the wall
Holding up the foundations; stand tall
is the cry – Hold on if you can.
I look through the window; duplicate –
Struggling with an impossible weight
That will surely take the house down.
What’s this I hear? I can talk clearly
Listen to myself most sincerely
Socialising was no great chore.
When all else failed, my double would start
No obstacle would pull us apart –
Yet society came second.
Here I am, banging my fists with force,
It’s a shame I can’t seek a divorce
From my inner nature, who laughs.
A snigger and a cry; dual meaning
Then change; blank stare and so unfeeling –
Sometimes I hate being myself.
We are all made in a polar light
That feels its way to the surface; fight
With a passion; yet I am us.

Between the veil

Dandilion and burdock sunset
Along a thousand memory alleyway,
So tranquil and without bedlam
Within the soft lucence of the twilight.

Still I tour, treading with appetite
At the reflection within the fracture
That heals with each passing day –
I beam at the abundance of retention.

Mindful – And eager to evidence more,
The stroll widened into an eclipse
That took me beyond my comfort zone.
No longer did I remain stable; Midnight.

Faster in stride, more complex in movement
Skipping past stones and pavement splinters
Without grace; yesterdays downpour
Harvesting the growth of inertia.

Still, relentless obscurity of night
Covering the land with a hazy mist
That shrouds the layers of brighter steps
To replace, quite indiscriminately.

Glance up, a lighthouse, a guided path
To show the way, like it always has –
Turning, obscuring and disappearing
But always returning; My guardian angel.

Why do you have to leave me in shadow?
Indeed, your return is slow and afflicting –
A beam of sentiment that you share
By encompassing and reflecting my glow.

By tomorrow you will be but a circle –
Forgotten, bystander in nature’s whim.
But I dwell upon your affecting radiance
And I hunt for you between the veil.

I love you

Don’t you think that people can overcomplicate?

Misjudge a simple situation while on a date?

Perhaps all that is needed is a petty expression,

One that certainly allows no possible concession

Other than the natural tone of the whispered word –

Sadly for me this often goes unheard.

I speak without conviction, nor genuine meaning

At least, not without sounding somewhat demeaning

And contrasting future, present and past

With what is in flesh – The memories are vast,

But not important with us, I see that now

It’s just that you pierced through it all, somehow

And made me contradict my pure, naked design –

The very substance that made the feeling mine.

I am ready now, as I knew you were too,

To simply gulp and say – I love you.

Hands

Brushing my brow

To understand stress

And keep the line balanced.

Yet when the moment is here

We find new ways to take up time –

Still, nothing really works anymore.

Hand on the clock

One moment and tick –

We study together.

Although in hindsight I knew

That we would run out and break down

With a collapse that would hit me hard.

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.