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Showing posts from June, 2010

Two days past

The Future is shadows
That have stepped out from the walls
And climbed out of the ground.
You can walk through them,
cannot see past them.

A sentimental goodbye soon ages
Maturing into a nostalgic memory.

The past is magnificent architecture
That melts into two dimensions;
Collected, collecting dust.
You can see them any time,
cannot enter them, ever.

This will never happen again,
Its all a two day old nostalgic memory.

The future is the corporeal shadows
Cast by buildings of the past,
pictures of buildings.



Written July 28th 2010, 2 days after Graduating from London School of Theology.
Possibly yet to be finished... not sure at the moment.

Move?

Like makeup on a corpse’s cheek
Her eyes give the appearance of warmth.
Touch the floor beneath her pillow,
The weight of dreamless sleep
Has imprinted a crop-circle on the carpet.

It’s when she blinks she is exposed.
Light pierces opaque skin
And organs cast shadows.
Denial synchronises eyelids
And dead skin powders your desk.

Draw a calendar in the dust
And count down daily vomit,
And the lingering smell.
Complacency clings to the walls,
And the lingering smell.

She will kiss you but
She will not let you look at her.
She will the say the vows but
She will not say your name.
Doubtful whispers echo softly.

There is a voice in the wind
That comes from her lungs into yours.
Says nothing but greetings;
Depth is spread shallow like butter,
Dead weight your shoe.

Stay still or walk bare foot,
Soul to the ground to a halt.
This is biased indecision when you know that
Waiting is giving up.
Move? Move? Move?


Written early June 2010. Some music my brother made for me to read the poem over.

Visit…

Romance To Me

Heavy weights on numb limbs;
This sleep is to my head.
Crying out to distant blisters
Which wish they knew the meaning.

Try to spell it out,
It’s simple for some.
Now lie down and rest in paradise,
On a bed of broken glass.

Ash trays full of smoking ban
Still sit on every table.
Only if they knew the time of day
They would all be gone.

You hated every moment
distributing life to the lonely,
Easing out of the womb
With dishonest motivation.

And this is the world you’re born into,
Where only night feels like home.
Stain the blue sky black
So you no longer have to squint.

Only in complete darkness
Are there no shadows.



Written, early June 2010.

Blending In

Drowning in oxygen,
Face to face with time.
Tomorrow hides behind a glass clock;
A reflected image of future.

Whispers drift towards daybreak
Where they will all be
Bleached clean by the sun.
Nobody wants to listen to whispers.

Lingering eyes are obvious
And oblivious to difference.
Comparisons draw blood from
Flesh disguised as granite.

A stone haemorrhage
Dampens illusions of tessellation,
Shapes become swollen and puffed up;
Proud pieces make a crooked puzzle.

You need oxygen to
Breath in these whispers,
And blood to collect them
But where do I fit in with this heart and lung?

Sitting on the stone,
Blending in.



Written May 2010