Tag Archives: spoken word

Knowledge is carnage

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Knowledge is carnage it kills lies

Those pretty liars don’t like it!

Knowledge is power

it hurts you want it

more

it opens doors that you shouldn’t want to open

it plays on repeat in hidden escape rooms

with the truth

that pisses you off

it makes you want die

cry open up and ask why?

but it’s scientifically proven

so there’s no getting around it

confound it!

But knowledge is like a clever serial killer you have to look in the right places to find it

and most people unfortunately are blind to it.

This life (my life so far)

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People tell me it’s easy to reach forty

I waged a war to get here

At 10 years old I ran away

a post man found me

and delivered me back to my mum

At 16 psychosis blew my mind

always out of step with time

At 18 I found poetry and rhyme

but suicidal tendencies stuck in my mind

At 21 I climbed a mountain in foreign land to see the Dawn

At 25 I wrote a letter to myself at 16

Because although I saw stars I still bore the scars

from my breakdowns

At 30 I pressed the reset button

and found myself in hospital again

but my life twisted and turned my heart burned

I found creative writing course which inspired at 32

I recited poetry on the radio too

and fought for community projects

to advertise and endorse

At 40 I live my life

I show love and remorse

I fight to live but that’s what life is for me

but in between moments of pain and work

Is the happiness I desired and the freedom I planted like the seeds that formed a tree

I sit in their shade

One day my body will fade

but I will be a soul free in the wind

guiding others my kin.

When it takes a mad man to see the truth (spoken word)

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We all fight to be kind
to have love and life
interchangeable in our minds
don’t live off of anyone
or become a vampire
that feeds on blood, flesh and tears
I loved you throughout the years
We are the universe
we are god
from children of inner sense
to wisdoms pre-tense
we live our lives wild and free
untamed by the flames of reality
which course and flow
like watery waves
We all have light waves running through us
Our consciousness cannot die
even of our last sigh.

Not my King!

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Not my king

Not my government

not my establishment.

I resent you all

who can stand tall

and not be beaten

or arrested in protests

who can stand tall?

when people are so restless?

who can stress less

when all around suffer

where is the buffer

for the cost of living

where is freedom of speech

replaced by law and order unforgiving

us.

We may all curse and cuss under our breath

no freedom to protest cause we might cause a nuisance

law and order just an excuse

to beat down on us through and through

no freedom

when we just accept

that this law and order just crept into view

grew out of our fears through and through

they’ll come for us and they’ll come for you

they’ll lock up our children too in this state wide prison.

No money for services or the epidemics of mental illnesses

as they cause us will full distress

and keep the peace through an iron fist

like the fascists we were told to hate and malign

written underneath law and order wins

fists of the police hit our chins

meanwhile the prime minister grins

as his profits hit the roof

the truth is lost under parliaments roof.

Dreaming worlds that never were (spoken word poem)

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Silence traps daydreams

energy burns

the multi verses yearn

worlds that never were

outstretch themselves in time

The universes machine purrs

and her soul pines

for her lover to set her free

she creates doors for just one key

she speaks through us all

just to speak to me

I seek answers but love is the only answer we need

but in this daydream my healed hand bleeds

and sometimes hurts

she is my reason my soul

I am the messenger of the monad the mind of heaven

the hour is late the end is all ready here

it’s time to let go of all our childish fear.

The history of words

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Words have a history

it’s not a mystery

If you do the research

from racist toys

for girls and boys

we have to respect

words have a history

and so do objects

so please have some respect

and acknowledge the implications

we all want to be loved above stereotypes

and life is cannot be lived in present only;

history matters

and leaves us sometimes in tatters

words will often leave us broken

hurting us more than sticks and stones

and broken bones.

Themes of life

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From Cinematic skies

to the cemeteries where they lay us to rest.

From the hovels of the poor

to the grand entrances of lords.

From ladies who go out on ladies nights

to men beaten by many fights

the stories we tell ourselves

not sold on supermarket shelves.

From the desperate love in ashes

to tattoos of hearts set like gashes

from the schools classes

through to the waiting rooms of life

from the mother cradling her daughter

to the Dad fighting his way through wars and slaughter

to the conventions of gay and straight

the way we breathe in life and wait

or wipe the slate

and find foundations and roots in identity

and eventually bridge the gaps

born into this life our mothers and fathers telling us stories for maps.

Themes of life and love

the great adventures there of.

Simp-pathetic ?

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I love you like you are my light and my life

wanted you to be my wife

loved you like a fetish

black like a rubber skirt

the words you say hurt

you cut my heart to ribbons

and still I am giving

my all

in your dominance I fall

I hit the wall

but I drill through

I love you I still do

but I am ruled by you

the wisest thing to do is to walk away

but I can’t eat or breathe without you

I love you I know I am no wimp

maybe I am a simp

but I love you all the same

in our deranged game.

Under a sign of neon loneliness

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Under a sign of neon loneliness

We are all drifting

shifting uncertainty.

If you don’t say what you mean clearly

it falls apart!

Like the shifting sands of a man’s heart.

I love yous repeated like rhetorical questions

a quest never to be won

a word we lean upon

but who really knows what it means

we can only dream

of being narcissistic kings or Queens

with enough love for ourselves

the magazines sit on the shop shelves

Do they dream of being read?

Loneliness the killer of lives

love the flip side of the coin

but they join…

They call me the bravest man in the world

but I just want to be held

and kept in her cage

admired at her whim.