Frozen Rock

Give me an iceberg,
So I can point out,
One tenth of my problems.
So you can sit,
And figure out,
What it is that bobs,
Up and down.
Issues are yo-yos,
And solutions don’t come.
Sunlight is the answer,
And warmth would help.
That could melt this cold harsh mess.
But it is almost night,
And dusk makes,
A fool out of me.
Constantly mocking,
And heckling.
And at the end of the day,
When my problems,
Are melted away,
And the sea has risen…
Will it be my fault,
There are homeless and dead?
My selfish fault.
I have guilt,
And plenty reason for it too.
I’d do better to bottle it up.
To put a stopper in death,
And destruction,
And have hope.
Hope I can ignore this frozen rock,
Before it crashes into me once more,
And drags me deep down,
To the sea floor.

my empty head

My empty head,
Sits upon my shoulders.
Portals look out,
And survey surroundings,
Which are bathed,
In light and dark.
Sacks of meat,
Hang twisted,
Painted grey and blue.
Dull thump and a sharp pain,
Is not uncommon.
My empty head,
Is isolated,
Upon my shoulders.
It sees nothing of worth.
The eyes are a gateway,
And they lead to a cave.
Damp and cold,
In my empty head.
Aged and worn,
And lonely,
In my blank and empty head.

Intellect is little more than tiny rocks.

Intellect is little more,
Than tiny rocks.
We collect them in our shoes,
We remove them when,
We find them unfit.
We pick and choose,
Our knowledge is groomed.
It is biased,
And it is ugly.
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
We all fall into that trap,
But perhaps that is the point?

Panda eyed.

Punched out panda eyes,
Like planets with dark rings.
They show the signs of age,
And they show the time of day.
Bright sun makes me squint,
And I feel on edge.
Rest would be welcome,
But at no point exists.
Awake and weary,
These eyes are blurry.
Rain rides down my face.
A gentle splash,
Of salt water on skin,
And I’m home again.
Home in a loose sense,
Riddled with meaning,
And metaphor.
A home I abhor.
A home for torment,
And a home for regrets.
A home for my natural shape.
Panda eyes,
No surprise.
When I burn the candle,
At each end.
An effigy to you and me,
A dummy of my core.
Panda eyed,
And howling blind.
I want sleep once more.

room.

Dark grey light,
Spread thin,
Throughout this room.
A green so final,
It ceases at the threshold.
Limited time,
Jeers at me.
Its teeth are bare and gritted.
Empty spaces,
Seem lonely.
But clutter is not welcome.
Middle ground is hard to find.
The contrast is striking,
And infinite.
Negativity Is passed unto me.
A positive is lacking,
But hardly misplaced.

Enter firefly.

i think this is a bit rubbish, however...

Bright in the night.
Little light.
Flitter of flight.
Duck and dive,
Through soot black space.
Round dark doorways,
With enchanted pace.
Enter firefly,
Light my way.

Knowledge is a withered man.

So, enters a man,
Old and callus,
To withered to work,
But wise beyond words.
The man leaves,
Stench tails him,
Mould rises as his feet,
Leave the floor.
He is dust.
Wisdom is with you,
But only for so long,
Before it becomes old,
And used.
Second hand information,
Is infested.
Knowledge and death,
Ride hand in hand,
They are sand,
And pass through your fingers,
Fleeting, unobtainable, remote.

My life as a spec of sand.

Untold.
My life story.
But then,
Why would it be told?
Who am i?
I am nobody.
But then,
We are all somebody.
To someone,
Or something.
We are all,
Grains of sand,
On a beach.
Some in the sun,
Some in the dunes.
But we are all there.
All of sand,
For all of time.
Who are we?
We are the rocks,
Which make up the earth.
We are the dirt,
Beneath Gods nails.
We are his cultivation.
Some is swept up,
By wind,
And carried like a sail,
Over our heads.
They land on pastures green,
Or they land in the sea.
Change is common place,
But it doesn’t happen to me.

i am alone

I am alone.
Alone for all time.
Alone with my thoughts,
And my expectations.
I sit and I stay.
Stay for all time.
Stay with my thoughts,
And my expectations.
I am away.
Away from time.
Away with my ideas,
And infatuations.
I am riddled,
With the imprint,
Of crooked teeth,
From grinning clowns.
I alone,
Know the route,
Of the problem.
But I ignore it.
Ignorance is bliss.
Bliss is expected.
It is in my thoughts,
My ideas,
My infatuations.

Hiccups, monster, mole, queen, raisin.

A green grassy meadow,
Hiccups dirt and rocks.
Monster claws scratch,
Through the ground.
Raisin eyes gleam blind.
Queen mole has come,
To gaze at the stars.
But, daylight prevails,
And she returns to the underground,
Leaving a mountain in the wake.

ten

Turn back time,
Till you were ten,
Away and free,
And happier then.
No struggle,
No worry,
Just innocence,
And fun.
Not now my dear,
Not now I fear.

Leap onward,
Till now,
I am 24.
I have not a lot.
I don’t expect much more.
I have worry,
And struggle.
I care less and less.
I am lost at sea.
I digress.

If life is a roller coaster then what part am i?

If life is a roller coaster,
Then what part am i?
If the rails are wooden,
And crumbling with age,
Will I die quickly?
Or will I not cease,
Until the cart stops?
And does my soul ride,
In my body?
And get off,
As the next life gets in?
And do birds fly past,
And shit on me?
And does the sun beat down?
Am I by the sea?
Does the wind blow around?
And the rains drench my bar?
And what if I jump from this car?
Life has its ups and it downs.
On a ride it is reversed.
The down the fun part,
The up is boring.
The anticipation of a drop,
Is more invigorating.
How can life be like a roller coaster?
I think it is not.

The only gage I know

My body is water!

My eyes are half filled,

With an ocean.

It rages and it fights,

With my skull.

It sinks through a plug hole.

It spirals down my spine.

The icy shadows of my spirit,

Are drenched,

And cleansed.

It spreads to my feet.

It settles.

My fingers tingle,

As a chill wind,

Brushes past them.

This is how i know,

I am alive.

Discomfort is the only real measure.

The only gage I know.

bats

Dead leaves hang shrivelled on sticks.
The bats on the trees,
And the sky is a cave roof,
Reflecting light not dark.
One by one these tiny beasts fall to their peril,
Where fun can be had.
Small children openly kick,
And shuffle through their funeral pyres.
Adults, during unseen hours do the same.
Autumn is a time for sleep.
We await the winter.
Where we rest,
Until spring.
When maggots creep from woodwork,
Then bloom in an array of colour and beauty.
The bats will return,
Only to die again.

this is our time!!

The sky between my eyes,

Fades between light and dark,

Cloud and smoke whirls,

In tornado patterns.

The sun appears,

In the gaps the mist creates.

It stretches golden fingers,

Across your body.

Taking time to glide,

Down mountains and valleys,

A spark ignites a gentle fire,

This soon becomes,

Burning desire.

The tender hum of your lips,

And a purr from your mouth.

Haze spreads over the giver,

And I receive the moon.

Its crooked smile reels me in.

A cloak is spread across the ground,

Enveloping all land and sea.

The darkness is thick,

But we know we’re here.

This is our time!

I am a still-life

Lights waltz with ripples,
On the surface of the glass.
The ghosts ascend,
Stretching thin fingers,
To an empty grasp.
Five lights ahead,
Illuminate the boatman.
His lantern embers burn bright,
In the dim light.
Hi crook falls,
Burning to the floor.
The water,
Now unmoving,
Hides my body.
I am a still-life,
Frozen and immortal in a hot bath.
Violins screech in the distance.
As music plays on,
It builds with dramatic cry.
I hear the music,
I slow down.
And I melt into a void,
Within myself.

my eyes.

I think my eyes might fall out their sockets,
They are the leaves on a dying tree,
They are the gateways to my soul,
But, they no longer see.
They are limp and lifeless,
They are the willows branch,
My eyes are tired and restless,
They are in a trance.

Sweep me off my feet

Sweep me off my feet,
What a gentle wind.
You play in my hair,
And rouge my cheeks.
I float and drop,
To my surprise I don’t land,
Swept off my feet,
I don’t understand.
Caught in a twirl,
A spiralling mess.
I might sit and lay,
But I do not rest.
Sweep me of my feet.

peace

Silence,
Peace,
Come to me,
Please.
Over the coming days,
Walk by my side.
At night time,
Lay your kisses on me.
And when I sigh,
Rest and hand on my shoulder,
And tell me,
‘You’ll be ok’
‘You know you’ll be ok’
Peace,
I need you now,
I need your warmth,
I need silence,
I need peace.

the time is now

i found this old one....

The time is now; anyhow, my face is changed.
Your dress is nice, by candle light, you dance.
If I get a chance, I’ll kiss you, but first leave.
And so we move and we move, through the busting streets,
Down a covered path, it makes me laugh.
When you trip, with such heals, reveal.
No real skill in walking yet.
We arrive, right on time, dead on nine.
My drink in your hand, and then on the ground.
Your smile fades and mine turns round.
To my joy, your ply, comes kissing over me.
I’m happiest you see.
“this was never meant to be”