Echos Made

Attention please
I’m buying time
Would you sell to me
For some of mine
My bellicose
Deranging eyes
Strip the leaves
From healthy vines

Resonate
Echos made
To vibrate like
A dot in space
Breath in haste
To bitter tasting
A sucker for
What fears me daily

Conscious controlment
The paperwork skewed
The life of the filing
Has a life of its own

In burrowed offensives
The masochist’s home
In calm clear objective
The sadist responds
The firm self-reflection
Yourself that you hate
A portal of versions
That swirl between changelings in phase

Mithering particles
Dust into dust
Sweeping arrangements from god or just luck
Equate to missed fortune
Of life and of flesh
Rend head from the gas lamp
And let smoke light the way

Fatigue and Fasting

Reflection bounces
From all corners of the room
Heart rate pounding
Long after thoughts have been exhumed
Fatigue and fasting
The flesh must be as I am too
Withered yet bloated
From all the things I can’t undo

Let me explain
With a failing display
The grins thin
And pinned in place
The thoughts lead to a fresh decay

The pride is free
Yet still disappointed
The body is weak
But the rage builds a fortress
With heart and with teeth
The ascent is assaulted
The rolling back down becomes one with onset

Shallow

 

Worthless
As in unable to levy

My mind is adrift as always

I mean with the utmost sincerity
I try with all my might
But I never grew a taste for life

I bathe in the cold
The prickling fickle
Erasing my soul
By each dream and each vision

The weight is unbearable
I scribe without lie
The air leaves me breathless

My stained shallow life

With thorns in my eyes
I doubt I’d be more bitter
With morn breathing light
I wish I hadn’t had risen

The pride
Still alive
Screaming.
Needing to die
But it can’t
And it won’t
So,
I continue to try

Stories are boring
When read more than once
Imagine the feeling you were never picked up

My fault they will say
But my shoulders tell different tales
To wallow here rotting
In bars of perdition
Failed

 

A Curious Version

Usurping assertions
I can’t help but care
The second thought’s mirthful
I wished it was air

The point to develop
Has become to defend this breath
Boxed myself off again
Whilst rotten teeth greet grinning sense

What a curious version
I feel I’ve become
The feelings have lessened
While phrases tease flames with a muted sob

On wards and upwards
Towards what exactly?
Too much
And nothing
I bellow abruptly

I’m tired of the  non sense
Passed from person to person
The year of the searing
Won’t alter its vintage

New growth into fury
How dare they contain
Within the thought bubble
The serfs rebute pain

But see that is impossible
Cruel and with drooling
The human has danced
Pushed all edges of movement

Nothing would live
If it didn’t stand a chance at first
The drive to be
As the drive should be

Instinct is chastised enjoyment
Thank small minds for swallowing time

 

However Yellow

Rather fond of this piece I wrote so I thought It deserved a reshare until I find fresh inspiration

The Wires, Like Roots

Some say its fate

Some say its hate

I say its nothing more than grazing

Trampled meadow

However yellow

Is the product of the phasing

Transition

Its tradition is to try to save the chain

But in its haste

To keep its state

They never check if stocks in date

.

Militant ignorant’s

Boorish and crude

For some unfounded reason

They think that they own this place.

Their piece on the board

Will not move till someone says it does

But as movement strikes bland

You’d think the pawns invented luck

Our home,

Not the playground

Of the cult of fetish death

Guilt should be shat upon

Not placed on daggers hilt and edge.

Humans?

Eschewmans

The instinct runs deep

Forever trapped drowning

Spasm as they breathe

The change that is needed

May not need me

But my conscience speaks volumes

When volume cant speak.

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Rain

Philosophising
As if I know a thing
In degrees rising
Cleansing steam
Realising
That I cannot commit
To a version that quite fits my din

Means to an end
Or end what you mean
Resolve is dissolving
The needing to leave

Tape up the box lid
Reordering corners
Just as soon as its dry
I bet rain will destroy it

Watch one more time
Phasing through my life
Another fail and tempt again
I can’t keep upright

In mirth and absurdity
My words make more sense to me
A sense of unhinging wisdom
Till yesterday is swallowed whole

However Yellow

Some say its fate

Some say its hate

 

I say its nothing more than grazing

 

Trampled meadow

However yellow

 

Is the product of the phasing

 

Transition

Its tradition is to try to save the chain

 

But in its haste

To keep its state

 

They never check if stocks in date

.

Militant ignorant’s

Boorish and crude

 

For some unfounded reason

They think that they own this place.

 

Their piece on the board

Will not move till someone says it does

 

But as movement strikes bland

You’d think the pawns invented luck

 

Our home,

Not the playground

Of the cult of fetish death

Guilt should be shat upon

Not placed on daggers hilt and edge.

Humans?

Eschewmans

The instinct runs deep

Forever trapped drowning

Spasm as they breathe

The change that is needed

May not need me

But my conscience speaks volumes

When volume cant speak.