In Stories written
I am smitten by hero or heroin
Life is stranger that the art we stare in
fairy tale romances underneath the surface glances
uncovers a setting
But I am betting you couldn’t of picked a better villain from your library book
and you will see
that there is a reason behind
their evil mentality.
It starts with there parents story
as it recycles on
Unhappiness detachment from love
is a somber song
sometimes played from a harp.
We are not the people who we thought
we are the stories we tell ourselves
the book our character is the one we tell ourselves we ought to play
but in the light of day
and in the night time
we hold onto the person we’ve told ourselves
whether we are lion king
we are not the character written on our forehead by god or the stars
we are the character fashioned and shaped by life our parents and ourselves
But do you know we can change our fortunes by changing the way we think
about ourselves in our own head
by burying the past and leaving it for dead.
I am a white Labrador
I don’t like other types
I bark and I bark and I bite
I am a white human
I don’t like people of other shades
I load my gun and sharpen my blades
I am a husky I like to play
I tussle I hustle and bustle with other dogs all day
I am a human being
I see that we are all different but the same
blaming other people is a playground game
I am an alien we been through all these struggles
On our planet we recognise that variation is fun and not trouble
and variation is also causes beauty in strange ways
we don’t come to fight we come to observe your planets creatures
But we are light years away but we’d like to teach you.
If fate is fact
Then is life fiction
Written by God
Our daily affliction.
If our destiny is death
With life sandwiched in between
Is life free choice or someone else’s dream?
Or is it a scheme?
A set level on a platform game
Perhaps freedom isn’t real
We are slaves to karma
We don’t define our lives they have already been defined
Time is a certain answer, choice a question?
Philosophers then should know their own destination
Who has defined our character if fate or destiny exists?
Is it circumstance that guides our hand or actions
Either way what is fates desire?
To throw us into the fire
To see how we turn out
Was there any doubt?
When black is the new white
When the TV doesn’t sell shite
When the stars go out in the heavens
When I win on the slot machine with lucky sevens
When money doesn’t rule the world
When racism is no longer spoken
When mankind truly sees and is not broken
When we are one
Under one nation one Kingdom of love and of hope
It will be time to stop the clocks.
In Sharp edged longing
I find no belonging
No home in freedom
No place in my heart.
I was better at the start
Life cannot be defined
by a shopping carts
or bank accounts
It’s the moments we shared
I haven’t disarmed my karma
If life is a bird I never meant to harm her
But my be spoken promises
Have turned to nothing but death
I try to hold onto my breath,
my life ill conceived
Gets lost like between the pen and the mind
and I am left blind behind the absent truth
I am cut aloof.