Roughly as poetic as a bag of smashed arseholes.







Scribble back.


Friday, 29 October 2010

5. We are shining

The acceptance of light, as that multitude of sparkling powers
That floats down from the ethereal sky, as a lullaby
From the mouth of a child, chewing on toffee
It’s all incoherent, but beautiful and innocent
Those molecules that scatter about, all the corners of the building
Permeating dark corners and recesses, and making them glimmer
This is life, this is everything; this is agnostic superficiality,
At its most awe-inspiring best, at the crux of reality

Tuesday, 26 October 2010

6. Sinatran rhythm

As if in a Sinatran rhythm,
I can see blue skies and nothing else
I can see waves crashing down to earth
I can see seagulls circling their perch;
The sun is smiling, I can see it now
I can see sunlight heating up the town
Turning those frowns, upside down
And each new person is so happy to
Be alive, in this old shining city
And each new person is so happy to
Be alive, in this old Sinatran world


Monday, 25 October 2010

6. Drudge

I’m so very, very, very, very, tired
Of being unable to sleep, and unable
To keep, what I mean from saying
In my concrete, drudgeried head
I just want to lay my skull on the hay and
Rest, and watch your billows of lung
Flare, in the morning sun, like it used to
When we were younger, and I more awake

Sunday, 17 October 2010

6. Treetops

And if you see me in the trees,
Remember I’m alone
You might climb up and join me
But there’s a lesson to be learnt
Because the heart’s divided piece by piece
Until one heart’s at home
Look forward ‘til the day you’re back
The soul's but half its own

2. Fly

Entirely abstracted – a work of art
In nymph-like form, all skin, bones, and broken heart
Sadistic of nature but it’s self-directed;
She created a wall but left it undefended
And as the mortar crumbles down, she’s suddenly
A raven – and she’s free – from the advances of men
All that was ever wanted was love and peace, it’s a shame
This is Shakespeare’s lost tragedy
As wings of flight unfold the world, she’s happy,
Only to be dragged to earth,
By the savage trickster, that bane of men,
Reality, and Physicality
His only friend




24. Question

The question is, and it’s unlikely –
Are you thinking of me?
I’m torn between
Carelessness and spontaneity

47. Jigsaw

You are what I want
This possession is making my chest hurt
And these spasms of coughing are for you
And the pain in my legs; it’s true
You’re an imperfect piece of the jigsaw
I’m longing to complete;
When it’s finished,
Maybe I can finally, finally, sleep

Saturday, 16 October 2010

1. Rot

You hold all that hatred at the palm of your hand
It’s a merry league from where we used to stand
First something, everything – now nothing
That cross we had has rotted
I didn’t speak – it’s true, as silent as a deaf-mute;
The thought of seeing you made my body turn
But I hold no grudge; I know you do
I’m just happy you’ve priors you can relate to

Friday, 15 October 2010

4. I am not your ghost

I am not your ghost
I am not the boy that you love the most
I’m just looking for a bit of company
From the Lunar skies blue-white-green
I am not the man you used to know
I am something new,
I am a fool
From a country you wish deposed
But we are not the same, he and I
Similarities, yes – but different minds
You say he was mad – well this is mine
But my madness will make you smile

Wednesday, 13 October 2010

5. Charon

The light’s diminished in thine eyes
There’s no more kindling for the fire
What are these faces, clustered round?
It’s Hades spectres, underground
In time – and not much time at all
You’ll have to answer Charon’s call
And meet the ashes of the dead
As mourning wails enclose your breath
Yet you pursue your heady quest;
Penelope, brightest and best

5. Parasite

A scattered, shattered, shining wasteland left with hopes and dreams
The remnant of a thousand years, of industry
Discarded toys – like wrappers – here and there
Nuclear particles lie glistening heavy upon the air
This land is now a mourner in deep sleep
To recover the scars that permeate even the Deeps
Movement no longer flies across the surface;
A parasite race has first used, and second, deserted


4. Mary Jane

Still hopeful that things will start someday
I’m Jimmy Olsen and you’re Louis Lane
Still hopeful that things will start again
I’m Peter Parker and you’re Mary Jane

Tuesday, 12 October 2010

12. I

can feel the heartbeat in your chest,
the beat of the feelings you long to express

Saturday, 9 October 2010

6. Margins

The very best part of being low, or high
Is that you’re certain you’re alive
There is a comfortable middle, apart,
But I want no comfort in matters of the heart
It’s all or nothing, and everything not anything
I pity those who settle for lesser things
To live a comfortable life – is never to have lived at all
To have lived in the borders and margins – is my call

2. Midas

Each soul is but an imitation in passing
As if Adonis was swept down and removed life
But as a shadow, or a flicker, to the pyre  -
 Incomparable, untouchable - that is your flame
Like Midas, you touch;
Nothing you touch will ever be the same

Friday, 8 October 2010

5. Holy Grail

Seeking that long-lost Holy Grail
The knight blunders blindly through the woods
Full of bracken, and thorns, it’s inescapable
In staying on the middle path, he’s sealed his fate
Whispers abound in the undergrowth
Full of sleeplessness, spite, and hate
Conflicting with his pure and goodly heart;
Corruption spreads from this wasteland.
Until the morning comes, there’s no escape

Thursday, 7 October 2010

5. Ghosts

We all have our ghosts
A multitude of voices that keep us awake
Neither happy, nor sad – it’s fate
That a silent few remain
A certain type of person, wondering
If, and how, and when
Could it ever have been changed?

Wednesday, 6 October 2010

24. Muse

Quiet, oh Muse
Still those voices and let me sleep
This endless need to write for you
To dedicate my nights to you
Is making me ill

5. Hiding place

Endless flow of the silver-blue through moons delight
This is the place where vagrants go
To meet and eat and sleep and stare
Through schools of fish that dance and hiss
In sleepy unaware and blackened ground
This is a place of silent witness to corruption
Twixt bike-chains, reeds, and slathered snakes
A testament to lashing of earth by boys with nothing
But imagination, sticks, violence and youth
That stands too briefly underneath the starred and scattered sky
Unlike this land, which sleeps immortal ‘til the end of time

Monday, 4 October 2010

I was rather bored

Aggressive atheism in a wide-spread sense is a relatively modern phenomenon, with no culpable doctrine existing before the 16th and 17th centuries. The current movement, headed by extreme rationalists (most notably Richard Dawkins) is particularly zealous in its beliefs, and intent on disproving any sense or value in religion. This missionary approach does, however, beg the question – at what point does the deification of logic place it on the same pedestal as a god? Aggressive, or missionary, atheism is to a much lesser extent following the same pattern of almost all religions; it needs followers to survive as a political, economic, or social force, and as a result will do anything to gain them. Dawkins in particular follows the creed of the atheist with self-righteous fury, vehemently denying the existence of any god or the point of religion as a whole. One of the central atheist arguments can be summarized by Christopher Hitchens, who states that ‘what can be asserted without proof can be dismissed without proof’.  The integral logic of this argument can, of course, be used in the counter-argument. Aggressive atheism is flawed simply because absence of proof is neither reason for belief, or denial. This now religious, or cultish, nature of atheism, with Dawkins as head and Logic as god, is particularly worrying; with as much proof for their arguments as that of Christianity, or Islam, these views are being forced upon others, and scorn heaped upon those who disagree. Even the argument that religion has no value is a flawed one; there may well be no God, Muhammad may not have been the prophet of a religious deity – but religion as a social focus, at the very least, is certainly not irrelevant. Imagine a western civilization without the church; it provided the first schools, the first social hubs, and the first refuges for lepers, outcasts and the lost. Even now, religion brings hope and happiness to untold millions the world over – and the existence of any supernatural entity is completely irrelevant to this. Of course in counter-argument religion has also caused untold millions of deaths, but can anyone honestly say that the savage elements of human nature would not have found another excuse to wage war and inflict genocide?
This is where an atheist’s argument is truly flawed. Nobody can prove, or disprove, the existence of any kind of god. That is a fact. If religion brings content and hope to so many, and atheists are genuinely content with rationality, there should be no need for conflict. The world has developed (partly) beyond this basic tribalism of conversion and a missionary need to prove oneself. Atheism and religions as a base are perfectly acceptable, if flawed, systems of belief. This overwhelming desire from both sides to convert others needs to stop as the two can co-exist – or better yet, everyone could become agnostic.

4. Amateur bank

It’s over before it began
I’d started to put myself in a savings account
Not sure I’m ready for this again –
But then you made the choice, and it’s the end
And like every girl before you, and after
Any investment leads to disaster
I should just stick, to cash
In a mattress under the bed

Sunday, 3 October 2010

2. Spectres

Silence is all-consuming;
Consuming me – I need to breathe
You, only you, it’s me
I am only me, myself – but that’s not quite right
I am nothing; you are everything
You’re a spectre of my past imagination
Left in pictures and writing and dreams
Nothing is ever as it seems.
Nothing is left but Martian-mindscapes
Do you ever wonder how it feels?

Saturday, 2 October 2010

2. Flowers

She circles those beautiful wrists
That complete an ideal – it’s this
Astonishing moment,
Aphrodite, you’re perfect
With eyes etched in ice
And smothered in sadness
Strolling full those far-flung fields
The flowers cry Emily, again
Casually, savagely,
 At the end of the end