Sunday, 13 February 2011


This night is velvet,
But it does not comfort me
It lays thickly on my body like woven oil
Blood sings a song
Of trains and cars and buses
Heart struggles to keep up
One word could ease this
But it never comes.

Saturday, 5 February 2011


Once Written
it can never be taken back into me
inked forever on an atom
though the paper be destroyed
carved into space and time
etched into yours and my

Not just a memory anymore, drunk with our ears,
But a Photograph of the words that should have only been said
And then denied
And pushed aside
By our common sense

A fixed point, to hinge ourselves on,
A chemical change in the world's timeline,
A pen-stroke noose to hang ourselves on,
Or a place to load our joy.

So before the words are written, before they have bitten the paper,
the page,
the wall,
Always Think.
And then have the strength to stay.
Or walk away.


From June 09.

We've got so many onion layers
Too many jigsaw pieces of our minds
And if you look, in the distance
We'll be melting all the time
Under the heat of confusion
Under the scorch of pain
Dissolving in madness
Washing away with the rain.

When a butterfly flutters it's tiny wings
A thousand people die.
If I don't let you see my smile
A thousand children cry.

Every action, a reaction
One thing, a price
One word, a chain reaction
One bullet, one life.

So when you flippantly kiss me hard on the mouth
Or oh so gently whisper in her ear
Think of the dominoes falling
Think of the futures, my dear.


Written in September last year.

I want to stand

To replace reaction with action

To move without trigger, my fuse already lit

I want to stop knowing things

And start knowing something

My present likes the drifting

But my future creaks and rots

I want to stand

I want to make absurd, ridiculous promises

And keep them

And make you amazing, like I should be

I want to feel what you feel

And take up arms for it

Your Protector

I want to stand

I want to tell you I'm worth more than what you see

I want to tell myself I'm worth more than what I see

I want to tell you you're worth more than what I see

I want to know most things have more value than I could ever imagine

Stop sampling imitations of real things

And eat them whole

And then lick the sugar off my lips

And then bake them in my oven

And give them away, anonymously

In little scarlet parcels

I want to dance on the wind, not drift on the breeze

Be amazing enough that you want all of me

Be beautiful enough that I want all of you

But what I want and what I do are so separate

That all I can do is sit down

And think about how separate they are

And so I'm sitting on my dreams, carried by the ebb and flow of familiarity

Thinking the aimless wandering is who I am, what I need, what you need

That I'm finding myself,

When really, I'm getting even more lost

When really, I just need to stand.