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~*it is quiet. ..with the O-gape of complete despair. ..*~
20 most recent entries

Date:2016-03-17 12:03
Mood: accomplished


These are the clouds of my skin
White as chalk and burned with the sin of a hundred suns
Enveloping the branches of my bones
Like a fine silk draped over a secret box
You sit up there in your yolk jacket
Stretching your rays out like laser limbs
Over the lambs in the fields
And the rubble on the tracks
Threatening to wash it all clean
To expose the reflections in the puddles
And the dust that refuses to settle
Disappearing in its dandelion puffs
Over the powdered daffodils buttered at dusk
Watch me, the wind, I’ll blow your mind
Watch me shift perspective
I’ll curve the colours of the rain’s bow
I’ll angle the boats bobbing on the steel waves
I’ll anger the crows and confuse the cows
Numb and numbered as tainted snow
I’ll bend the trees away from the shadows
Shaking their leaves as they slap the stones
With their weathered veins
And the weather vanes

Date:2016-01-08 18:37


The space widens
Before narrowing in
The air is vast
Then dense as steel fog
Come past the compass, it won’t lead the way
The neglect of navigation
Impossible as a dark winding corridor
Where half of the lights have given up on life
Flickering with the flies that no longer bother to buzz at the source
The crowds flock like miserable crows
Packed in like an ill-fitted suitcase that gets lost on the carousel
Someone turn the volume down
Or up just enough to drown out the sound of
A myriad of mazed senses
The noise and the light that
Deafens and dazes
Penetrating the clouds
Then softly
But all at once
Inch by inch
Or metres of discouraging magnitude
The miles slip by the stratosphere
Great gaping holes in the spongey sifting white ones
Squinting at the slow progress
The instant glare, blinding
Suffocating on the stale claustrophobia

Date:2014-10-25 21:55
Subject:The light
Mood: indifferent

The light

Enticing the wings that swoop the stale night air
Static but always alive
Intricate as lace, their pallid shadows skim the ceiling spikes

Drifting in then darting out
Sometimes it’s on, sometimes it’s off

Will they ever learn?
The clouds have felt the same way about the sun
They have turned in for the night, back to their cobweb beds that envelope the earth

Down below, they all know
The flowers, the moss, the oceans and rocks

Sometimes it’s on, sometimes it’s off
The seasons will shine and retire
Leaves will rust, leaves will fall
Bulbs will dull in the darkened beds
Don’t they remember what happened the last time?
Are their wings not scorched from the laughing glass?
The great exposing spheres of light spilling over the outlines that outline the ugly truths

It cackles, quietly, unnervingly
‘You can’t hide from me!’
Cowering to the corners they curl into their compact cocoons
Awaiting the blackout
Wondering whether it will ever blind them

Date:2014-07-14 15:41
Mood: blah


I have played it with such repetition

That I no longer want to listen

I have eaten it in such vast quantities

That I’m no longer hungry

I have drawn its outline so many times

That it’s no longer beautiful

I have questioned its meaning with such curiosity

That it no longer interests me

I have persevered with it with such patience

That it no longer seems worthwhile

I have forced it with such iron will

That I no longer care to unlock it

I have polished it with such eagerness

That I don’t care how it reflects now

I have regarded it so highly

That it needs bringing down a peg or two

I have tried to rescue it with such determination

That it seems there is nothing left to save

I have reasoned with it on every logical and illogical level

That it either makes perfect sense or none at all

I have invested every grain of sand in every sands of time

That it feels like I stole it from the sea
I have kept afloat at such empty depths

That drowning seems a plausible escape now

Date:2014-06-05 15:19
Mood: blah


You are the skin tag on my neck

Ugly and spoiling

You are the scuff on my shoe
Unkempt and dirty

You are the crack in my dinner plate

Unsafe and ruined

You are the lipstick on my teeth

And the weeds beneath my patio

You are the trodden gum on the streets

And the witches’ knickers caught in the willow limbs

You are the fox in my alley

Calculated and villainous

You are the virus on my computer

Cold and robotic

You are the cloying scent of an ill-matched fragrance

And the headache from a gaudy print

You are the puncture in my tyre

Draining and restrictive

You are the broken horn on my car

Faint and unresponsive

You are the ladder in my tights

Uncoordinated and humiliating

You are the paper cut on my thumb

And the stain on my white linen

You are the dull clouds
Veiling and apathetic

You are the stale humidity

Claustrophobic and lacklustre

You are the match that refuses to light

The rose that will never bloom. 

Date:2014-03-27 20:54
Mood: thoughtful


I’m chalk
And you’re cheese
I’m limestone
And you're Red Leicester
We both crumble
But is it enough?
Go on, snap me
Drag me down that black slate
You know exactly how to
Have you expired?
There are still more in my box
But you know we’re all the same
Your holes aren’t hollow but
They show the same beyond their ends
Sometimes I can’t stomach you
But then you’re familiar like a dry cracker
And it settles
Like the dust
That clouds across the carpet from my white ashes
See, my relatives disintegrating into the waters off the Isle of Wight
Or blinding tourists at the Nitzana curves
What else could I have been?
And you
Matured but still exactly the same
Between two bits of bread on a builder’s lunch
Or some limp slice under the golden arches
I form the white lightning with my digit stubs
And you
Clash with the roar of a yellow cymbal
Makes me wish I was deaf

Date:2014-02-10 14:47
Mood: cold


Bending at the shadow on the bricks
The pink biscuit slate grey red terrace rendered rows
Its neck cocked at the yellow curve
Leaning over the lawns
Doubled in the double glazing
Curiously peeking as if to peer into some life less surreal
With great looming lilac linear limbs
Dissolving into the pillowed smoke puffs that attract the wired shell parasols
Beneath the static ashen blanket
Showing the petrol puddles how it’s done
Up there with the aerial spokes and the crow folks on their tightropes
Hinting at a more intense complexion, or a sky more hopeful

Date:2013-11-18 16:13
Subject:Lungfish in London
Mood: cold

Lungfish in London

The lungfish are underground again
Slithering over London’s limbs like silver shadows in the midday sun
Over the cold steel railings their scales drip and slap
The ladybird carriages gush to still nothingness
The gaps close gawping notochords behind the yellow lines
The tunnels widen with light like spring burrowing from dark winter days
Screeching this is London, this is London
And back in the passageways they’re wading to the exits
Like rainbow fish darting through the coloured chambers
On peak they brush past the coats and cloaks
And the 3 o’clock cases and laces
And after dark Saturday umbrellas and Stellas in the hands of Holborn fellas
The incognitos with their mojitos, you’ll never see them again
Tiles curve to smile as they watch them file, with their backbone from all the latest brands
Black like a swarm of crows brought to stand
The distant purr of the busking band
And all the pennies smashing the velvet
The heads and the tails from endless fingernails
The strum of hope on a rum and coke
Echoing over London’s limbs like the silent breeze whipping at the bridge
Beneath, the Thames tames its waves, conspiring with the Moon to mirror the square
As the lungfish ascend the subway for air

Date:2013-10-03 14:03
Subject:Troubled waters

Troubled waters

Go on, edge closer
Enough with the caution
Fate has no foresight
Stop pussyfooting
Push it
Risk it
Test it
Taunt it
See how thick this ice really is
I dare you
Walk across it in your great black stomping boots
Watch just how wide these cracks grow
See the fish dart away from the surface
Hear the trees leave and bend their branches away
The moon, she gave up months ago
Don't look to her for light now
Her bruised craters shadow the way out
She conspires with the silver clouds
These waters run deep
Snaking through the landscape like wild blue veins
Running into nothing beneath everything
Your shoulders are tired
Your heart is heavy
They drag you under
And out of your depth
Fallen limbs of bark swirl at your elbows
The wind gives you a stern warning, whipping at your ears and your frozen mouth
Ice shards are sharp in the numbing surge
Pricking you to the realisation that you're drowning

Date:2013-09-20 16:32
Subject:The stray black dog
Mood: indifferent

The stray black dog

The transitioning foliage curls at my paws
Here I am, pathetic on all fours
Wandering lonely beneath the fizzled out lamp posts
Sniffing at the air, the scent of occasional family roasts
No home and no bone, nowhere to call my own
And I'm howling at the moon, I'm jealous of its fullness
I'd trade her dimpled coat for my shaggy fur
I'd wake her from her bipolar stir
The rain penetrates the tissue clouds
And soaks my tail as I wag through the crowds
Where is my best friend?
Man has abandoned me
I was deceived to believe there was a loyal companion in me
Cross-breeds on leads at the cross-roads bark
First thing in the morning, at noon and after dark
Muzzled and reigned, they'll never be tamed
They're waiting for the cage when someone gets maimed
To be in the dog house is a dream for me
But no one wants a stray black dog, you see
So I wander on, hunting the streets
I know my routes so well, they're on repeat
Each season it stays with me on my face
It weathers my eyes, it leaves its trace
And the postman who used to look on with fear
Just looks at me pitifully and pats my ear
The dog days are mine, I expect them now
There's no need to whimper, there's no need to growl.

Date:2013-07-04 13:59
Mood: curious


Hey! You, with the fork
Licking your lips
Eyes glazed like a sugar mouse
Lay down your napkin and cake for life
Crumbs, you’ve chosen the wrong sponge?
Savoured something past its best?
It’s stalemate for you and I
Skating on thin icing
Your eggs have risen
But you’ve burnt your edges
Your fat candle-stick fingers chalked with icing sugar and granulated as brail
Time passes and you need glasses
And now you decide your tastes have changed?
You can’t have your cake and eat it
No veiled lace will keep that from spoiling in the maturing sun
A zestless fruitcake is no fun for anyone
You prefer something fondant to tickle your fancy
Discrete dates that don’t date
The Black Forest of your betrayal

Date:2013-06-03 22:24
Subject:The curious mole
Mood: indifferent

The curious mole

Here I am, almost completely blind
But still with my hands burrowing, desperately I find
Something damp and fresh, new life in the earth
Is it really all that it's worth?
Should I now call off the search?
The soil is rich getting under my skin and beneath my fingernails
I've stolen nature's carpet from the worms and the snails
If I let the light in would the clouds be kind?
Would my heart then rule my mind?
The tunnel is narrow and dark, not quite complete
I can hide inside with everything but my feet
Shall I admit defeat? Look, my velveteen fur's getting spoiled
Digging through this complex underground, my maze almost foiled
I can adapt overground scurrying along by the scent I've found
Choking on my curiosity and my little linear dirt mounds

Date:2013-05-27 21:58
Mood: frustrated


Bleak distant creatures
That roam the seas like distant silver robots
With their anonymous faces
And traces of tragedy
Teeth marks in mourning
Little coral reefs breathe a sigh of relief
And all the plankton sank on in quiet despair
The sky reflects some colour on the grey, cynical surface
Some indigo rays snake down to the sea bed
The starfish unpeel their brail limbs like alien daffodils
Whirling in the turbulent orbs that whip up the
Sea froth into a stormed frenzy
Exposing the waves of truth that skim
The gull-levelled gullible buoys
Bobbing beneath the burning light
Atop the crashing sheet that sleeps with the salty moon
Drunk on her vast crators
And the depth of illusion that only a shark could drink in.

Date:2013-04-24 17:24
Subject:The loneliest star in space
Mood: mellow

The loneliest star in space

I am the statue and the hedgerow
I weather with the elements and change with the seasons
I am a half-life of happiness and paired desolation
I am the soot-black poppy seeds waiting patiently in the dry soil
I am the milky clouds rearranged in dreams on rewind through the rapid skies that you ignore while travelling backwards on trainsss

I am the tired birds at dawn whistling the same old song through your window
I am the broken record and the heart torn on my sleeve
The rusty needle and the dusty box
The frequent stall and empty glass panes
The curiosity that you brush under the carpet
The ghost of your indecision

I am the bruise on the perfect moon
I am the creases in the perfect sea
I am the misalignment on the eroding mountain tops
The blinding glare of the glaciers
Distorting a reflection you will never accept

I am the Russian doll glazed with multiple coats of wooden armour
Excluding the ordinary and the dull
Convinced something still burns on this vast bemusing sphere
Adamant that you're aware of it too
Yet too afraid to change

And there you are, the loneliest star, safe in space
Unknown to the telescopes and the avid eyes
Hiding away in the shadowed background of life
Too cautious to form a constellation

Date:2013-04-04 22:05
Subject:Grounds for solitude
Mood: indifferent

Grounds for solitude

Here I am again, rising and falling with the rolling landscape
The dull green hills that dictate my highs and lows
The flooded bank that forces me to travel back the old damp path
And the sheep with their similar, unfamiliar faces, judging me with their simple eyes

Here I am again, so insignificant in the midst of these mangled trees
The light penetrates my skin like the white winter lambs
The wind whispers the way through the raw, mouthing clouds
And the women with their prams, weave out of the way
And the men walking their dogs, divert away

Here I am again, pacing my way around idyllic palace grounds
The tourists with their Canons capturing happy memories
The coach drivers with their Cokes catching a break as the sun cooks the leather on the levers
The lake calmly lapping as I lap round its vast body
And the bridge and its shadows, bending the water away

Date:2013-03-29 15:44
Subject:Repeated streets
Mood: blah

Repeated streets

My imprints are invisible on these static streets
I am a shadow at dusk through the dirty headlights
I am the hedgehog scuttling off in seasonal solitude
Searching for shelter through the darting rain, the milky snow showers, the butter-bright sun drizzling light over all that is bleak

These streets are repeats
Routes of routine motion with no notion of change or impulse
Their thick-skinned pavements, I have licked with my soles
Their contours I’ve conquered with an upright gait
I have levelled with the level crossing
Dubiously skirting between the metal and ‘mac
Beneath the bridges transporting the carriages of convention
The grey suits avoiding gridlock, the discarded Metros and timely ties, gin and tonics and smoky eyes

I reach the top and it’s roundabout o’clock
The engines drill my ear drums like a raucous cockerel
Drink the forecourts dry then slink off to their urgent lives
Through the town the clouds close in on me like the burning of light before death
These eyes, I have met their gaze a dozen times before
Their accusational glare, their glassy stare

I am the telescope overlooking the pier, staring so intently
Far forward that I lose all sense of self
My conscience trips me up at the next curb, forcing me to focus
On the hopeful daffodils lashing the air like green flares of optimism beneath the miserable moon

The church with its wooden lies registers my passing
I am the backwards reflection in a stained glass window
Blurry in the breeze and coloured by my past without the bread of conviction or the thirst to be holy

Past the greasy spoons with their extractor fan fumes
Behind the glass, the kids-eat-free families are happy and content
I am the chid without a happy meal, ripped from my father’s arms before the bond was sealed

I am the bluebell naïve and trusting, attempting to blossom in the cruel bitter winter
I am the shrinking violet, dulled to a lilac vein spidering through colourless petals
Growing impatient of an aborted spring.

Date:2013-03-25 14:06
Subject:Dream robots
Mood: annoyed

Dream robots

The meticulous robots are working the night shift again

Winding the cogs in my ageing body clock

Hurtling towards my next birthday

An additional candle squeezes onto the cake

Another dent in the bouncy sponge

Another flame of youth to snuff

They clock on when the night clocks off

When the day is done and the morning is wiping the sky clean for a new slate of clouds

And the moon is making her excuses dimming her craters

To make way for the milk crates floating up the tired, predictable streets to clink a toast to the promising new day on the bristled doormats

When the curtains close, they frequent the chambers and the cells

Slackers tending to the budget dreamers behind their spiritless eyes

The qualified co-ordinate the complex minds

Keeping an eye on the R.E.M

Drawing up wild plots

And characters that speak out of context

With faces I don’t recognise

And voices I can’t comprehend

The familiarity is reassuring until they flip the switch

And now, the surrealism kick warps every perception of normality known to humanity

Clouding my judgement like merging shadows

Indistinguishable in the low light that forms the stage between my ears

Insignificant in the grand scheme

Epic in the time being

They monitor my stirring with their cold, metal digits

Tally my heart rate on a digital slate
They watch my reaction on the big screen of dreams with their glazed foil eyes and spindly tin lashes

The old reels are nostalgia, memories of the past, collecting dust in the back room of my mind

They observe my life unfolding before them, hinting at the paths to descend

Desperate attempts to avoid me missing the last train of fate

Nudging me in the right direction until I realise my destiny

The film whirs like a distant motorway heard partially through double-glazing

The invent a theme and I hear it crackling like an old vinyl in my head as the idyllic scenes are replaced with familiar surroundings

A modern alarm clock

The robots are out of charge now

Bent double like crippled daffodils, robbed of their golden opportunities

Their rippled eyelids like rusty shunting garage doors

Mechanic mouths muted in the interim

Their dreamland duties

Redundant in reality.

Date:2013-02-22 12:13
Subject:Falling on deaf ears
Mood: calm

Falling on deaf ears

Silence is golden daffodils stillborn from the bitter winter

Peace is a deaf dog, unaware of its own decibels

Calmness is a shore rushing out to tell the sand

In the salty dead air
Without crashing or roaring

Without gulls soaring

Without cawing

Bliss is a lightning bolt carving a quiet diagonal through the subtle clouds

Creeping upon the unexpecting fields, the noiseless frazzled crops, the dead footpath secretly luminous beneath the silver, sleeping moon

The moon mutes the ringing reality, blackness brings blackout

Still streets, sleeping tongues each on their pink, quilted pillows

Shadows statuesque in the lifeless landscape

Trees hush the breeze on the heavy windows

Ghost roads relieved of rush hour rage

The speed of sound slows to a comfortable pace

And at once, it seems manageable


Date:2013-02-17 23:03
Mood: productive


Underneath the bed are the remains of our relationship

Like a sandwich, the duvet is a thin slice of predictable bread

The mattress, one of your disgustingly pungent meats

Pushing down on the slats, like big wooden teeth
Squashing all our material possessions outside the edges

Like some poor attempt at a Tracey Emin, or just a horrific mess

I spring-clean and you refrain from the change

Hoarding every last coat hanger and empty plastic bag
, threadbare t-shirts that won't even fit
You want to wear it all and I want to be naked

You like it all warm and dusty

I like to breathe in the cool, new air

Imagining waking up elsewhere

Look, this is my side and that is yours

We’re divided by receipts and shrink-wrapped clothes no longer in season

They’re sad and beige, crumpled holding their breath

Your socks are bobbled and singular, lying alone beneath the still headboard

And my CDs are all scratched, refusing to play
Almost as if they know
Of the jolted emotions and days on repeat.

Date:2013-02-14 14:07
Mood: artistic


Spitting, raucous exhausts
So many people in such a hurry
Day in, day out, from rush hour to rush hour
The rat race of life knawing away
At either ends of the day
The spectrum of time is a static dual carriageway
Stationary then starting all over again

Thrashing the engine
Pushing the pedals
Grills like muzzles
Blinding lights
A badly aligned plate
Shattering the silence and the still, peaceful air
Scaring the clouds and shaking the daffodils
Disturbing the crows tight-roping the telephone wires

And the pigeons, shaking their heads
And the magpies fluttering in the haste
And the dog walkers at dawn say what a waste, what a waste

The tremors vibrate through my skin
My veins blue as the enveloping sky, drowning the late afternoon sun
My skin is transparent as the air before my face, evaporating into the emptiness
Vast open space opens my eyes, dilates my pupils

Bluebells creep up as if to apologise
The trees wind their wiry limbs around the spirits in the wind, greeting the new seasons
That promise the same highs and lows
Shielding their leaves until it leaves in the evening solitude
Numb to the urgency with their rings of wisdom and their burly barks.

my journal