Humanity

People like little rivers and tributaries

flowing to the sea

entwined in words with faces dripping in kisses

but I sometimes wonder about what the eye misses;

contact between humans

sometimes we go bone dry because of the shyness of our eyes

which flow with tears

with our fears

which ravage our souls with plastic aspirations

and metallic and jewelled frustrations

has the black phoned mirror stolen our souls?

Or is the water the constant flow of love enough to water our souls?

Fire burns

Fire burns

turn the page before it burns away

cinders, words charred

Stars burn

Nuclear fusion

Life is fire or is that an illusion?

Love the unquenchable desire

to form flame

to gather that person’s many names

and love them all

Ashes to ashes dust to dust

The ash forms a tree

Yggdrasil the ash tree of life

Forming us anew

The flames that burn in me and you

I can’t be the man you want

No matter how you change the font

words stay the same

I know I am not your type, am I to blame?

I could be made of muscles with six pack and broad shoulder and arms of Steel

but I am not

I could be a scientist with a silver tongue eloquent or just very well hung

I am me there is only one version of myself

I can’t change

or rearrange

I realise my limitations

I won’t be able to perform and act as an imitation

I am who I am

Love me or let me go

for its you I love I know you know!

The God detective

The God detective

Through out my life my abstract mind has been able to detect and find patterns in life and the words people say. I know that life is a deeper mystery than people in the field of science and psychiatry think.
I have battled with my demons, demons which I still battle. I rattle the cage fight in the desperate stages and write in the pages of my own story. I maybe a dragon falling off the wagon of sanity. However I am intrigued by her she is the greatest story I will ever gain. I know her name is Sophia she is the girl with many faces.

I still see her sometimes though it’s strange the voices quieten and sometimes even stop. Is this a coincidence?

Art by Zoe Zass

Rigged systems

Rigged systems

Wall Streets rigged

financial system

the pistons

and cogs

a well oiled machine filled with smog.

A joke, quantitive easing

pleasing the rich

tax breaks and evasion

philanthropy

for white Caucasians.

The system will never benefit

people on dole

losing their soul,

or the disabled

hide your ableism

and stable rules

for this worlds justice

is injustice

and we are fools.

Kitted out with system

that resists change

new world order

shift of power to billionaires

we just churn out blank stares.

Charity the modern guise

death of belief, no god, or surprise

so there is only being famous or rich

To aspire, the death of independence

Set fire to books teaching socialism

or different ways for society

its rigged,

and it’s too late to learn other ways to live.

As propaganda spouts over media

seedier than other lies spouted forth

we won’t be heard over fake news’s discourse,

the ones who shape our lives the 1%

will enslave the 99

and in the system will be written the rules

that enslave us fools

for the internet which was promised to set knowledge free

we lead to down fall of the majority

who data has been mined

and undermined

for all to see,

And we still won’t acknowledge a rigged system of humanity.

Expander

Merging images

Refracted kaleidoscopes

love is time

and time is movement.

I am the places,the faces

of the extraordinary

Interacting on your soul

the way the singing bowl hums

and the waveform on your tongue

I am expansion of your cells

and your soul which dwells

in the cave of the overmind

The collective consciousness

breathing

the water seething seeping and flowing

the eyes which see into the all knowing

I am the light

which goes on

Burning

Your guide walking and showing you the way

it might be late in the day

but I am you and you are me

Music is magic

even the fire dances

to its song

it’s with you I belong.

I can’t get to the bottom of what you’re saying

Words spraying what do they mean?

gangrene, rotted and green

toxic enough to poison my world

never mind the vaccine that makes me hurl

These words confuse

your newspapers rhetorical vitriol

leave us uninformed

just mind control

pathogens of lies

and opinions

get into all our sinews

flesh and brains

our soul is stained

I can’t find the truth

it’s been tipp-exed over

I can’t find the real story

who’s the true victor

when we all suffer

the only answer is they’ve built a buffer

between rich and poor

but as the earth dies

Life dies and so do we all.

Strange love for shadows

This insane love

loving ghosts in this town

I search for old shadows

there are plenty around

They are fickle

they hide from the light

they only want a quiet night.

You are my darkness and my light

the reason I still fight

the night and stars are yours to align

but your heart still isn’t mine

in this design,

I know we both spring forth

in fates curtains and discourse

But I love you like the sun

which causes shadows to hide

but at the end of the day

I call your name on the wind

the secret name you don’t even know yourself

I know we both don’t understand each other’s points of view

but I know one day I won’t sing the blues.

I come from a lost home

I come from

A lost home

my psychosis at 16

two years of hell

Dad and mum threw me out

My roots broken

Then Living in hostel

With Creaking fire safe doors

council estate yellow bricks and concrete

Dirty mirky stained glass windows

looking out on the world

Not a church

where I would fashion ideals

But a place I could be at peace and reshape my soul

Even in a place which had a

scent of old burnt out cigarettes

Smokey stained furniture

like an old fashioned bed and breakfast

The kitchen smelt of convenience.

Packs of chicken and beef super noodles

Boiling in a pan.

This is where freedom started

Hope in the darkness

Grey days but sometimes occasional sun

Dance music blaring from my boom box

a CD player in my room

chemical brothers basement jaxx tracks

Paper and pen

Penning poems

finding myself

I still loved a girl called Becky

who didn’t love me

I gave up,drinking as my mental health was suffering

Giving up the poison

for my own piece of mind.