Those choice words; from under breath, you told.
Then, from over yonder, someone screamed, ‘who the f***?’
It was a perfectly timed coincidence, but your blood ran cold.
Category Archives: Uncategorized
Firesky!
At an aggressive speed
I was losing my way
I was feeling so alive
Seeing what could never be
The atmosphere burned red
And so I thought of what will be
…from now on
I noticed then what I never see
Chrome slithering roads and bloodied sky
With all moistures weeping in blue
Rolling, cruising, endless
On and over flattening mountains
This is what I’m telling you
Those slow buildings in green
I’ve finally found out what I almost lost
And sensed what I had never seen
All around while dissolving out
Through and into the Firesky!
New Old Woodlandia
Earlier, you found yourself at an edge of woodland; you stood at its beginning or its end, you couldn’t begin to tell.
Impatiently, the trees blurred together, all around you, trees branches holding others that spun ever wilder, entwining into an eye-shattering carousel.
In the loop, you do not know or fear the time it takes for the motion to slow, winding down, tired, the branches let go, clumsily flicking leaves at each other, like young children; engaged in dance, then distracted, but always pure and in play.
You, look around you with your peripheral vision desensitised, you were somewhere else, just left of wherever’s’ centre; you could breathe deeply, consistently as one; with a carpet of mimicking leaves.
Now, feeling so spongy underfoot, you’re subtly falling and rising, falling and rising in exact time with your steady pulse; you were now at the heart of everything.
The Lost Astronaut Poem to Self
Have you ever felt your insides boiling in the heat of a Morning Martian sun?
Because, here you can explode immediately so I advise you to please not come.
There is a planet, just one along that’s a little cooler, with water a plenty.
But, I warn you now you won’t be welcome; you’ll be ripped open before some bastard counts to twenty.
So I advise you to stay at home or better still go somewhere else!
If you stumble across their alternate selves, remain very cautious; in another universe, man + man, still = nauseous.
Slightly Derelict House
The half-life – existing in Ordinary Street. In a home that’s regressing, decaying at your own apprehensive feet. The curtains, undrawn, mournful in unique shades of burnt. I continuously prolong to stand; outside, be curious, where nothing can be learnt.
All that remains is allergic and weathered, bleached by an encompassing light, a colourless nothing fading from every passers sight. The welcome gate has long since gone, dissolved by powers of apathy, crumbling everything, no longer strong.
Carried on a gust, is a child’s drawing of their favourite haunted house, daring you to walk up the path like that famous miming mouse. Someone is sealed inside their novelty box. Merely do they exist, inert, in one of their cellblocks.
This was this once the warmest family home. Mum and dad, the kids, each sitting on their styled floral throne, around the television like decent and normal folk, laughing like gas leaks at dad’s latest bad joke.
If you care too much now, then you are very strange. You can’t spare the spare time and so creeps something random, unimportant, and you’ll be fine, so walk on regardless in your very British sunshine.
Wintering
Branches bare
Black and white print
Cloud covered blanket
Adds shadow over tint
The frozen ground
Unpliable and plastic
Threatening, overhead
Dropping white static
The Sun feels its age
Winter owns this place
The warmth of my body
Versus the freeze of outer-space
I shiver in a fit
I breathe as a dragon
Red/Blue and swollen dead
I’m wintering, a cold cannon
Giant Arcade
Dry twinkling grains
Soft sucking imprints
Moulding
Swallowing spaces
Between your toes
Temporary still
Of someone’s moment
Until erased
By unempathetic sea
A liquid giant
Sand pushing machine
Of Its own arcade
No coin-op
Night and Day
The day is the same as the night,
Except at night there’s less natural light.
And so the night is the same as the day,
But the day lends itself away.
Then if the day is the same as the night,
The night hides the obvious from sight.
Only the moon outstays its welcome,
Hanging there as a forgotten kite.
Not can be said of the moon and the sun,
The moon controls the night and tides for fun.
The sun is the day and directly cannot be seen,
Improves your mood and raises self-esteem.
Without these forces then where would you be?
Are you a tree hugger or drawn to the sea?
Do you have a connection? Receive power from the moon?
Will you run to the sun, be a shadow by noon?
Frog In Fog
Do as I do said a frog in the fog,
and he flopped into a pond.
How lucky was he,
for he couldn’t look beyond.
Do as I do said the frog in the fog,
and he leapt out to dry.
How lucky was he,
for he didn’t even try.
Do as I do said the frog in the fog,
and he swallowed a fly.
How lucky was he,
for his word is no lie.
Do as I do said the frog to a toad,
suddenly some lights; dazzled, he froze.
The toad belched, you’re in the damn road!
The frog in the fog, so it goes.
Bald Love
12 year old Jack found his feet very loosely tied to some railings.
His 11 year old girl-fraud proceeded to stuff newly cut grass down his trunks for the sheer love of it.
She found the whole thing hilarious. Jack was pleased that she was enjoying his company, if a little confused.
At school, the next day, he found out that half the school though he was a baldy!
I Eat Let.ers 