Tag Archives: art
Paper bomb
If we could read all the love letters
the poetry projected over the years
the ink would form the night
the words stars
the sun our intention to love
Would rise every time we wrote the words
the sky and birds
would scream we are alive
I would use the paper and poems we wrote
to drop from the sky
letters and prayers from us to god
to breach the void between us
The elation of creation
within our United Nations.
Undead poetry
whispers of poems in every generation
long forgotten
bodies may decay and become rotten
But the words hang in the cold fresh autumnal air.
The undead poet from their grave may save
humanity still
it’s a battle of wills
selling poetry at bookshop tills.
softness and grace left in memories of one’s who knew them the most
although it’s his words live on like ghosts
a gnarled wizard staff
summons the poets craft
summoning words and stanzas
and questions rhymes and answers
Pulling them from sleepy faded ink
to relive times and make us think…
Poets against humanity
If poets continue to circulate their work after death what does an undead poet look and sound like?
A Devil’s love
You are scared of my love
it’s ferocious
and fierce
but not enough to pierce
through the void
Like the devil
and God
we are pitted against one another
I was your favourite once
now I have a message for you
I won’t give up
Cave in or die
All I ask is why?
It’s all in your head
It’s all in your head
the schizophrenia
the uncertainty
behind the curtains of your mind
to be special,
to be magic is to be tragic
to be alone
than one of your drones
is your superhero ability or curse
left in the storm of denial
we are all crazy here
with broken smiles
token, broken people
who believe in science and logic
So pluck your theories from the air
and prove you care
you make the meaning
even if your dreaming
It’s all in your head
so drive yourself mad
and stand alone
even the devils throne
is not comfortable but it’s home
My last act
Cut off my sellotaped glasses
staring at asses
of girls I can’t have or marry
carry the child I am into the sham
bury all I am
did I give a damn.
yes yes yes I did…
amid tragic transformation
and a pure imagination
spoilt only by being a man
who cannot understand
the state of this world
So throw my body to the flames
a heart who can’t be tamed
full of tearful shame
and guilt ridden blame
I am the anger inside a coke bottle
shaken with mentos falling inside
afterwards fizzy fallout
I will be spent and full of doubt.
Peter Pan as a Man
Drifting from day dream dramas
Karma an unhinged beast
feasting on imagination
His righteous indignation
blushing red against his skin
but chained against his respectable aura
he didn’t want to grow up
He’d rather blow up
like a bomb
Songs gather enemies embolden
the golden days are over
fairies watch dying in the distance
His shadow takes over leading him on
Peter Pan as a man
He’s forgotten to dream
to feed the crocodile of time
these are the days that loose their shine
corporate suits kill
never land roots lost
We all grow up he’ll never settle down
lost in psychosis
waiting for cleansing osmosis
telling tales no one believes…
I miss the days
I miss the bad days
the way you hate me
your words reverberate around my head
we are still in conversation
though in my imagination
sex and beastly claws
the way you wanted more than I could give
I cannot live
without thorns a rose wouldn’t be a rose
I am torn our love wasn’t really love without pain
I am just a blood stained hand holding on
a rose
it’s thorns like all your angry words cutting through skin
love is a tragedy we are all flawed within
yet romantic attachment
when it works
can heal the heart and make it beat like it’s going berserk.
Exceptional
In the days when the exception they say
doesn’t need correction.
we are all creative
but some have it beaten out of us
at some stage
the war the exceptional person rages
is either to have their words heard
or to keep their creative side alive
and not have it brutalised or strangled
an Angel or messenger of light
has to fight to maintain their angle of light
and their perspective and sight.