The darkness in between the stars is so black, deep and vast.
Filled with interstellar dust that floats forever. Always lasts.
It falls to this planet and yet we fail to see it come.
It curses us with plagues that can never be undone.
This interstellar curse is so heavy on my shoulders
Beneath the dark sky I hide beneath a big fat boulder.
I close my eyes, breathe so deep, unaware of silent alarms
The glass-like dust rips through my lungs, breaking all of my charm.
The star dust that we dream of, and its protective glow at night
Is far more destructive than a gun slinging fight.
This curse has taken hold of me, my friends drop one by one.
I cannot hold you close to me for fear you'll be undone.
I'm sorry that you feel as if I push you far away,
It is much better if I do not come out to play.
This interstellar curse breaks friendships up so fast, so quick.
They sink down so quickly like a big cement brick
I think this dust has cursed me, as I find myself alone.
This curse can find its way to me through holes in the o-zone.
Interstellar curses are rife throughout the world,
They bee-line for my heart and mind. Destroy my very soul.
Sunday, 12 September 2010
Saturday, 4 September 2010
The Hokey Cokey
The Hokey Cokey was a game we used to play,
Set to a song, we would sing this everyday.
Shaking our legs, turning with glee,
Wiggling our arms, we would feel so free.
Whilst standing in circles we would all play this game,
Adults and children, we would all look the same.
Up our bodies this dance would spread and flow,
Moving and shaking, even our heads would have a go.
One line would confuse me, a philosophy of sorts,
A statement that would leave me floundering for thought.
"You do the Hokey Cokey and you turn around
That's what it's all about"
If the Hokey Cokey is what it's really all about,
Then why do we set rules and laws that others seem to flout?
Why do we search for the meaning of this life?
Why are hunger, disease and poverty so rife?
I think about this daily and I wonder to myself,
What if this is the answer that is hiding on the shelf,
So dusty and so old it is right before our eyes,
We quest for statements that quite frankly could be lies!
So from this day I ask of you to question just one thing.
What if the Hokey Cokey is really what we think?
Perhaps it is really what it's all about.
I dare you to think and I dare you to doubt.
Set to a song, we would sing this everyday.
Shaking our legs, turning with glee,
Wiggling our arms, we would feel so free.
Whilst standing in circles we would all play this game,
Adults and children, we would all look the same.
Up our bodies this dance would spread and flow,
Moving and shaking, even our heads would have a go.
One line would confuse me, a philosophy of sorts,
A statement that would leave me floundering for thought.
"You do the Hokey Cokey and you turn around
That's what it's all about"
If the Hokey Cokey is what it's really all about,
Then why do we set rules and laws that others seem to flout?
Why do we search for the meaning of this life?
Why are hunger, disease and poverty so rife?
I think about this daily and I wonder to myself,
What if this is the answer that is hiding on the shelf,
So dusty and so old it is right before our eyes,
We quest for statements that quite frankly could be lies!
So from this day I ask of you to question just one thing.
What if the Hokey Cokey is really what we think?
Perhaps it is really what it's all about.
I dare you to think and I dare you to doubt.
Footsteps In My Mind
Everlasting tunnels into my open mind,
Doorways and archways that withhold the test of time.
I welcome you in, but be wary of your step,
Beyond the old passageways lay rooms of such depth.
Shallow pools beneath the arches filled with salty tears,
The waters sit so still, tainted with long past fears.
Spiders in the corners catching memories in their webs,
Stuck to silken strings, dreams caught around the edge.
A long way down into the corridor of thoughts,
You may notice the debris that seems to litter the floor.
Leave what you see where it is, one movement will disrupt,
A lifetime of thinking, dreaming, feeling. If you touch it shall erupt.
Don't whisper too loudly, your breath carries quite a force,
Beware you do not ruin the memories at their source.
Turn left into the dark, and grab a flame-lit torch,
You can see the echos of my mind hiding underneath the porch.
They beckon you into the dark stone rooms.
Never ending. Everlasting. Ideas ooze from cracked cocoons.
Embrace my young self, cover her childish eyes,
Ideas too far fetched may inspire her soul to fly.
As you walk through the tunnels and pathways in my head,
Allow yourself a moment to meet those who in the outside world are dead.
Memories and stories, so unique to this old palace
You move into a room that is covered in blank canvass.
Take your seat, my young self runs to the corner and dims the lights.
Images start to flash and the canvas comes to life.
You see me age, day by day. You watch my mind unfold.
Memories so precious that until this moment were untold.
I have no doubt you recognise the influence you did leave.
Flashbacks from my life. Similar to those you did perceive.
You seem to recall these memories in a different light I'm sure.
My take on such events, to you, may seem so very obscure.
The movies stop. The lights flash up. You think you are alone.
My childhood self has disappeared, replaced by a version unknown.
This Ideal Me will take your hand, and lead you out the door.
A visit so brief it leaves you almost wanting more.
Disturbing sounds come bounding up, not wanting to be outdone.
My ideal self picks up a sword and beckons for you to run.
The everlasting tunnels shorten to make your exit swift,
Perfection falls to save you and it opens up a rift.
The door appears. The light shines through. The floor is firm and cold.
The portals open up as my mind releases its tender hold.
Back in the world of wakefulness my mind to you is hazy,
So full of random happenings you wonder if I am crazy.
Doorways and archways that withhold the test of time.
I welcome you in, but be wary of your step,
Beyond the old passageways lay rooms of such depth.
Shallow pools beneath the arches filled with salty tears,
The waters sit so still, tainted with long past fears.
Spiders in the corners catching memories in their webs,
Stuck to silken strings, dreams caught around the edge.
A long way down into the corridor of thoughts,
You may notice the debris that seems to litter the floor.
Leave what you see where it is, one movement will disrupt,
A lifetime of thinking, dreaming, feeling. If you touch it shall erupt.
Don't whisper too loudly, your breath carries quite a force,
Beware you do not ruin the memories at their source.
Turn left into the dark, and grab a flame-lit torch,
You can see the echos of my mind hiding underneath the porch.
They beckon you into the dark stone rooms.
Never ending. Everlasting. Ideas ooze from cracked cocoons.
Embrace my young self, cover her childish eyes,
Ideas too far fetched may inspire her soul to fly.
As you walk through the tunnels and pathways in my head,
Allow yourself a moment to meet those who in the outside world are dead.
Memories and stories, so unique to this old palace
You move into a room that is covered in blank canvass.
Take your seat, my young self runs to the corner and dims the lights.
Images start to flash and the canvas comes to life.
You see me age, day by day. You watch my mind unfold.
Memories so precious that until this moment were untold.
I have no doubt you recognise the influence you did leave.
Flashbacks from my life. Similar to those you did perceive.
You seem to recall these memories in a different light I'm sure.
My take on such events, to you, may seem so very obscure.
The movies stop. The lights flash up. You think you are alone.
My childhood self has disappeared, replaced by a version unknown.
This Ideal Me will take your hand, and lead you out the door.
A visit so brief it leaves you almost wanting more.
Disturbing sounds come bounding up, not wanting to be outdone.
My ideal self picks up a sword and beckons for you to run.
The everlasting tunnels shorten to make your exit swift,
Perfection falls to save you and it opens up a rift.
The door appears. The light shines through. The floor is firm and cold.
The portals open up as my mind releases its tender hold.
Back in the world of wakefulness my mind to you is hazy,
So full of random happenings you wonder if I am crazy.
Tuesday, 31 August 2010
Saturday, 14 August 2010
Ahenobarbus
You say you hate to see me hurt, and you hate to see me cry.
So all those times you hurt me, did you close your eyes?
It was so hard to hear you lie and accuse me of the same,
So how can you sit right there and justify the blame?
It's almost easy to walk away, you don't make me want to stay.
Sometimes it's better to be alone, no-one can hurt me that way.
Perhaps I made you out to be much more than you could achieve.
The failings are all mine, not yours, and so for this I shall grieve.
So all those times you hurt me, did you close your eyes?
It was so hard to hear you lie and accuse me of the same,
So how can you sit right there and justify the blame?
It's almost easy to walk away, you don't make me want to stay.
Sometimes it's better to be alone, no-one can hurt me that way.
Perhaps I made you out to be much more than you could achieve.
The failings are all mine, not yours, and so for this I shall grieve.
Saturday, 13 February 2010
100 Years Of War
It started with a man called Franz. His body cold and dead.
The death toll rose, from one to two. The third shot as he fled.
They lay atop each other, the ground drank as they bled.
Poppies would grow, their colour - the same Blood Red.
It was, alas, just the start, we follow on with more.
Bloodshed, violence, hatred, guns. A gruesome 100 year war.
Despicable actions condoned by those hiding under floors.
Never held accountable, they avoid the pointed sword.
And so it grew in quantities unseen before by man.
A death toll only rivalled by gas chambers in the camps.
Each body did not have a wound, only a number stamp.
The stench so rancid, thickening the air, so rank.
It started with a man called Franz. His fate was never sealed.
His mother unaware of how his birth could bloody open fields.
The bodies now are still as ripe, the stink is hard to bear.
The war continues in a rage, without an altruistic air.
And still no end we see in sight. No choice of survival or flight.
The war is intrinsic with our lives, we know of no other plight.
Hatred runs deep in our veins, the curse of human life.
It shall be extinguished only with that last thought of fights.
100 years of pain and death. Our minds are terror-bound.
The Earth shall shake and boil and crash, opening the ground.
Our eyes shall open one by one, seeing what we've done.
100 years of pain and death can never be undone.
The death toll rose, from one to two. The third shot as he fled.
They lay atop each other, the ground drank as they bled.
Poppies would grow, their colour - the same Blood Red.
It was, alas, just the start, we follow on with more.
Bloodshed, violence, hatred, guns. A gruesome 100 year war.
Despicable actions condoned by those hiding under floors.
Never held accountable, they avoid the pointed sword.
And so it grew in quantities unseen before by man.
A death toll only rivalled by gas chambers in the camps.
Each body did not have a wound, only a number stamp.
The stench so rancid, thickening the air, so rank.
It started with a man called Franz. His fate was never sealed.
His mother unaware of how his birth could bloody open fields.
The bodies now are still as ripe, the stink is hard to bear.
The war continues in a rage, without an altruistic air.
And still no end we see in sight. No choice of survival or flight.
The war is intrinsic with our lives, we know of no other plight.
Hatred runs deep in our veins, the curse of human life.
It shall be extinguished only with that last thought of fights.
100 years of pain and death. Our minds are terror-bound.
The Earth shall shake and boil and crash, opening the ground.
Our eyes shall open one by one, seeing what we've done.
100 years of pain and death can never be undone.
That Moment
Delayed dreams, waiting on the side
Developing, somehow ripening, until the time arrives.
Such aspirations held off until it's time to hide,
Inside your mind, you drift to sleep, within your comfort dreams,
A beautiful elation sweeps over and fills your self-esteem.
Close your eyes. Blissfully delve into the treasure trove.
Selecting carefully your cast, your setting in a dim alcove.
Suddenly you rearrange to a boat floating in the mangroves.
Romance tonight? Or a moment of success? You settle on the first,
For me, I think, I'll climb aboard and quietly observe.
A short time passes, but a lifetime of visions,
You chop and change, fold and play, indecisive in your decisions.
Settling on the choicest cuts, your thoughts begin to torrent,
Between thought and sleep, you control the mood, if only for a moment,
I watch as you resist the urge to submit to Sleep's enticing merchant.
Sleep begins to make your dreams merge uncontrollably,
I take your hand and lead you back to a place where you can see.
This moment, so elusive, when you recall you'll forget to breathe,
Just one moment, and you feel it, as you drift off to Sleep.
All thoughts, and worries, banked memories stored. Feeling at ease.
Now I lose you to the dream inside, the boat floats far away.
I watch as you disappear amongst the trees that sway.
That moment, just one moment, so blissful and complete.
It's a shame you'll never understand what it means to defeat Sleep.
I hope you'll recall that moment without falling fast asleep.
Developing, somehow ripening, until the time arrives.
Such aspirations held off until it's time to hide,
Inside your mind, you drift to sleep, within your comfort dreams,
A beautiful elation sweeps over and fills your self-esteem.
Close your eyes. Blissfully delve into the treasure trove.
Selecting carefully your cast, your setting in a dim alcove.
Suddenly you rearrange to a boat floating in the mangroves.
Romance tonight? Or a moment of success? You settle on the first,
For me, I think, I'll climb aboard and quietly observe.
A short time passes, but a lifetime of visions,
You chop and change, fold and play, indecisive in your decisions.
Settling on the choicest cuts, your thoughts begin to torrent,
Between thought and sleep, you control the mood, if only for a moment,
I watch as you resist the urge to submit to Sleep's enticing merchant.
Sleep begins to make your dreams merge uncontrollably,
I take your hand and lead you back to a place where you can see.
This moment, so elusive, when you recall you'll forget to breathe,
Just one moment, and you feel it, as you drift off to Sleep.
All thoughts, and worries, banked memories stored. Feeling at ease.
Now I lose you to the dream inside, the boat floats far away.
I watch as you disappear amongst the trees that sway.
That moment, just one moment, so blissful and complete.
It's a shame you'll never understand what it means to defeat Sleep.
I hope you'll recall that moment without falling fast asleep.
Brilliant You
Close your eyes and think of a time when you felt bliss.
A time when nothing and nobody could harm you with a kiss.
Dream of this repeatedly and try to recapture faith.
Brilliance exudes you. Put a smile back on that face.
Take a deep breath and hold it in. Count: One. Two. Three.
Let it out, and see how black the air turns with debris.
Inner turmoil in your mind is now nearly in the past.
Hold the thoughts of happiness, and try a hearty laugh.
It doesn't come immediately, but suddenly you'll see.
Clarity and rationale will help to set you free.
Believe in you. You are the best. You have everything to show.
Allow me to explain in quatrain-style prose.
Each of us has the ability to improve the world around.
One little action unique to us. Don't let another drown.
You understand the pain inside. It's a path that we all follow.
Responsible for saving lives just by dispelling sorrow.
A time when nothing and nobody could harm you with a kiss.
Dream of this repeatedly and try to recapture faith.
Brilliance exudes you. Put a smile back on that face.
Take a deep breath and hold it in. Count: One. Two. Three.
Let it out, and see how black the air turns with debris.
Inner turmoil in your mind is now nearly in the past.
Hold the thoughts of happiness, and try a hearty laugh.
It doesn't come immediately, but suddenly you'll see.
Clarity and rationale will help to set you free.
Believe in you. You are the best. You have everything to show.
Allow me to explain in quatrain-style prose.
Each of us has the ability to improve the world around.
One little action unique to us. Don't let another drown.
You understand the pain inside. It's a path that we all follow.
Responsible for saving lives just by dispelling sorrow.
Battered Cod
It was a day of truth and lies. Mostly the latter.
If today was a fish, it would be covered in batter.
Hatred. Love. Disdain. Predominantly the last and the first.
Anger, tears and runny nose. No longer have that thirst.
Broken spirit. Nasty dreams. Breathing in the air.
Painful lungs and uprooted songs. Complete and utter despair.
Faded hopes fall farther into murky waters past.
Dreaming lost, Ambriel cross. Yesterday was such a contrast.
Black and brown and blue. The colours on this flag.
Fly it high to symbolise how life can really drag.
If today was a fish, it would be covered in batter.
Hatred. Love. Disdain. Predominantly the last and the first.
Anger, tears and runny nose. No longer have that thirst.
Broken spirit. Nasty dreams. Breathing in the air.
Painful lungs and uprooted songs. Complete and utter despair.
Faded hopes fall farther into murky waters past.
Dreaming lost, Ambriel cross. Yesterday was such a contrast.
Black and brown and blue. The colours on this flag.
Fly it high to symbolise how life can really drag.
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