One

Once more upon the crowded hill

Shuffled and stumbled

Pillar and post oscillation

Wondering as ever

Wondering

How to reach out

How to touch, be touched

Instead of lonely

oh so lonely

Lost amongst the masses

Perspective

I walk the streets

Head down

Seeing gutters

Old fag ends

And anonymous paper bits

Suburban detritus

And wonder

Who

Where

Why and

What

This is an inspiration?

Sort of

Or a fantasy observation

I see smeared dog shit

And blood stains

Graffiti

Tags

Bags

Rags

And

Bones

And

People

Some above that level

Some below

I see

A grimy underbelly

Of this rancid city

I see Pain manifest

On pedestrian visages

I see

Hope vanish as the sun rises

I see life as it is

Rose petals washed from my face

With tears of pity

For them
For me having to see them

For me.

Veneer

 violence under our skin

itches to release

ordinary people try to make sense

of anything; of everything

still 

bullets give us beauty

make sense from life

revealing a final truth

of everything; of anything

ordinary people made sense

released

violence upon our skins

stilled

Hollow Man

I filled my void with emptiness

took each bright dream and pinched it tight 

between finger and thumb

extinguished like stars at dawn

I filled my void with emptiness

nailed hope to the floor with a spear

and walked away

its hideous mewling possibilities

evaporating like dew

I filled my void with emptiness

it's overflowing with deeds not done

a rubble of hollow words from broken promises

- untitled

fresh short plank
shaped, but raw,
unrefined
still being sanded by
life; that trial of abrasion
no varnish coat

to protect others from itself
a trail of splinters with every contact
most brush off
some push deep
to itch and fester
and for that I am truly sorry

Life on the FLood Plane

wandering

filling my pockets with stones

waiting for the rain

Half Empty

I sometimes wish

that maybe I could be

a better glass of person

Strong Words

clack click,
 a nine slips into the chamber
ready to preach
the word of Glock

...Politics & People...

Your words, all breezy and minty
We inhale, a breath of fresh air
Only to gag and choke
on the halitosis truth behind what you say...

Across We go...

two points

a chasm

a bridge

such ease

A to B

B to A

Purpose

Use

and such desire

that half way,

we turn Left...

Hmmm

Ponders,

Squanders,

and wanders off again...

Rudderless;
Sails furled.

Passed

Close my eyes

Close my mind

And still my ghosts howl

Open the bottle

To drown the djinn

snip

staring past

rivers on glass

watching puddles

catching rain

An Ebb

I thought

Once

That laying naked

On a frozen lake

As dawn broke

Was metaphorically as low as it got...

 

Lost; cold and lonely

Unprotected; exposed

As blue as blues can be...

 

I never knew

That dawn - that small hope rising;

Would bring

Enough gentle heat to melt a little ice

Ice that creaks; cracks

Splits

Parts

 

Plunging I into darkness below

Down further

To tangle breathless amongst weeds

Blinded by silt and muck

All options gone

All

As it is

Futility

Meaningless and lonely

Alone

Sat amongst my kith and kin

No end in sight

This futility

On it grinds

My hope; a bloody nub

A stump

Worn; torn and shredded

Salted daily

From despairing tears

For this drudgery of existence

Meaningless and Lonely

Futility

Each

Each word, a minute

A line; an hour

Each day one page...

Each day, ripped from our book

and held against tomorrows flame

Turned, torn and gone...

With our hands we recall;

Ours is a memory of

Soot smudges and papercuts

Onward

trundling along

this peculiar journey

we weave our weft and warp

trundling a long

watching as the wheels fall off

trundling and watching

wefting our warp

fulfilling our yarn stretching back

woven by dead girls dancing

The Engine

Chuff Chuff Chuffing
Huff Puff Puffing
Huff Huff huff
Puff chuffing chuff
Chuffing chuff it!

The machine has run
Out of steam...

F M P

To fly
To hope
To wait...