Paradise.
I want you to take me away
from this place
somewhere where
theres not so much a pace
to keep up with
to contend with
to compete with.
To be slain by.
I want to be away
from this war cry
to not have to try to strive.
I want to be more alive.
Simply to rest for a while,
I want you to take me to this place.
Ex 16/11
24 Jan 2013
Naievety, Numb and Home
All from the 21st of October
The worst word in the english language, and the worst insult ever :
Naievety
I know i must live longer,
kick back more years to gain your respect,
but though my years are nothing,
compared to yours,
at least acknowledge
that they are different.
That i do Know things.
That in some respects,
I will Know more than you.
At least acknowledge, I live.
Numb
I want to replicate every
feeling and
emotion
on paper,
to describe,
explain
show others.
But what if i feel
nothing?
how may i speak
when there are no
words,
nor combinations,
nor formulae,
for this.
My speechlessness,
will have to be my
explanation.
Home
Soft bobbled, brown carpet,
warm beneath, wrinkled, bare skin.
Wriggle, scrunch ot between the toes.
Padding across the room
the beam of sun captures you.
Spread an image across the carpet.
Hair, glowing dimly,
and skin, laced with shadows
in each of its perfect imperfections.
Chairs, comfortable,
windows, protective,
the space inbetween the walls, special
Home.
Ex
The worst word in the english language, and the worst insult ever :
Naievety
I know i must live longer,
kick back more years to gain your respect,
but though my years are nothing,
compared to yours,
at least acknowledge
that they are different.
That i do Know things.
That in some respects,
I will Know more than you.
At least acknowledge, I live.
Numb
I want to replicate every
feeling and
emotion
on paper,
to describe,
explain
show others.
But what if i feel
nothing?
how may i speak
when there are no
words,
nor combinations,
nor formulae,
for this.
My speechlessness,
will have to be my
explanation.
Home
Soft bobbled, brown carpet,
warm beneath, wrinkled, bare skin.
Wriggle, scrunch ot between the toes.
Padding across the room
the beam of sun captures you.
Spread an image across the carpet.
Hair, glowing dimly,
and skin, laced with shadows
in each of its perfect imperfections.
Chairs, comfortable,
windows, protective,
the space inbetween the walls, special
Home.
Ex
15 Oct 2012
The Journey
This one is a bit more like my usual complicated, crazy, hard to understand (especially for me) stuff. Its just from watching the outside whizz past in the car.
The Journey
The broken becomes a continuous stream,
leaves, twigs, branches
the years debris
merges into one
constant stream.
Life.
The further things are constant
the horizon is still
through the glass,
teardrops of water
collect on the speeding
windows lip.
The horizon stays constant,
still, the dizzying,
exciting, breathtalingly fast, pass,
leaves, twigs, branches
as debris of my life,
yet the straight,
safe, sturdy.
Stands, shifts, only slightly,
with me.
Let it pass.
Ex
The Journey
The broken becomes a continuous stream,
leaves, twigs, branches
the years debris
merges into one
constant stream.
Life.
The further things are constant
the horizon is still
through the glass,
teardrops of water
collect on the speeding
windows lip.
The horizon stays constant,
still, the dizzying,
exciting, breathtalingly fast, pass,
leaves, twigs, branches
as debris of my life,
yet the straight,
safe, sturdy.
Stands, shifts, only slightly,
with me.
Let it pass.
Ex
Lowry's Lions, Berwicks Ramparts, The house of the blue gables, The Contented Sole
9th of October - All of these poems were written on my trip to St Andrews Open day on wednesday, we stopped in Berwick upon Tweed, a place where the artist Lowry (whom worked majorly in charcoal) worked and lived.
We walked the walls and i jotted down these pieces, I haven't had time to touch up on them, so these are as they were when i wrote them walking about, so don't expect too much !
We saw a grand house, which was derelict the time Lowry was there, and is now scrubbed up so as to honour his love of the place. It is present in many of his paintings/sketches. Outside the door were these two stone lions.
Lowry's Lions
Charcoal outlines the coastline,
it glistens in the setting sunlight,
staring, gazing with solemn, crazed eyes
the lions stone gaze cries
for a long-distant loving master
whom was their caster,
into charcoal on paper
into time,
their saviour.
Ex
Standing on a section of the ancient stone walls that surround the majority of the city, protecting it from the sea (and in places the scots) at around dusk, I could see cormrants (black water birds) what seemed to be a iron smelting building, with a huge red brick chimney, and the sea.
Berwicks Ramparts
From the stone
you see the waters edge
the sand, the weed,
a light house, white, red
on light light blue
and a colossal red finger of fire, from iron,
points to the sky.
It splits the lines of houses
from the sea.
Blackbirds hover,
finding the last of lights catch,
calls mix with the waves, crashing, loud,
but subdued, cowed by the walls, quietened,
less threatening, protecting.
Ex
Around the corner from the done up derelict house of Lowry's day, was -ironically- a derelict town house, with lovely blue gables, sided with a nicely done up one, with quite a boring however neat front.
The house of the blue gables
From the broken windows the eyes stare,
watch as tourists totter past
in the suns last glare.
They just gaze quietly, sadly,
beside their grand neighbour
whom wields the history, power.
When they are seen as lower,
though gables blue
they no longer house
their happy owner,
though past lives on in the broken windows
eyeless stare.
Ex
After Berwick, we headed past Eyemouth, where we stopped at a harbour side pub/restaurant called 'The Contented Sole'.
The Cotented Sole
The pubs open door breathes
warmth and music
onto the balmy harbour,
and the people settle into the cosy leather seats,
fish battered, sigh heat as sliced,
and the beer fizzes,
as the sun sets the people fill their hungry bellies,
with the possessions of the sea,
white fish in bubbling batter.
Ex
We walked the walls and i jotted down these pieces, I haven't had time to touch up on them, so these are as they were when i wrote them walking about, so don't expect too much !
We saw a grand house, which was derelict the time Lowry was there, and is now scrubbed up so as to honour his love of the place. It is present in many of his paintings/sketches. Outside the door were these two stone lions.
Lowry's Lions
Charcoal outlines the coastline,
it glistens in the setting sunlight,
staring, gazing with solemn, crazed eyes
the lions stone gaze cries
for a long-distant loving master
whom was their caster,
into charcoal on paper
into time,
their saviour.
Ex
Standing on a section of the ancient stone walls that surround the majority of the city, protecting it from the sea (and in places the scots) at around dusk, I could see cormrants (black water birds) what seemed to be a iron smelting building, with a huge red brick chimney, and the sea.
Berwicks Ramparts
From the stone
you see the waters edge
the sand, the weed,
a light house, white, red
on light light blue
and a colossal red finger of fire, from iron,
points to the sky.
It splits the lines of houses
from the sea.
Blackbirds hover,
finding the last of lights catch,
calls mix with the waves, crashing, loud,
but subdued, cowed by the walls, quietened,
less threatening, protecting.
Ex
Around the corner from the done up derelict house of Lowry's day, was -ironically- a derelict town house, with lovely blue gables, sided with a nicely done up one, with quite a boring however neat front.
The house of the blue gables
From the broken windows the eyes stare,
watch as tourists totter past
in the suns last glare.
They just gaze quietly, sadly,
beside their grand neighbour
whom wields the history, power.
When they are seen as lower,
though gables blue
they no longer house
their happy owner,
though past lives on in the broken windows
eyeless stare.
Ex
After Berwick, we headed past Eyemouth, where we stopped at a harbour side pub/restaurant called 'The Contented Sole'.
The Cotented Sole
The pubs open door breathes
warmth and music
onto the balmy harbour,
and the people settle into the cosy leather seats,
fish battered, sigh heat as sliced,
and the beer fizzes,
as the sun sets the people fill their hungry bellies,
with the possessions of the sea,
white fish in bubbling batter.
Ex
7 Oct 2012
The Clock
The watched clock never changes.
If only that was true.
Time would be mine.
Instead I sit
as greedy fingers drag away my precious minutes.
A slave to the unperturbed face.
Continuously moving onwards
constantly tracing a circle,
the arms are dizzying as they spin,
the head aches
trying to comprehend the stakes
time entails.
Ex 7th/10
Weaving
You can say something about anything.
Words can
change, trick, decieve millions of minds,
around hatred, weave the appearence of love.
Dig, lift, crush, inflate.
Worlds greatest enemy
is the master of words.
Ex 7th/10
Fallen
Freedom. Will not you bring solace?
To a heart, yet unwarmed,
cold as ice.
Or bring quality to loneliness?
If never felt, never touched upon
what could be.. What dreams, can be..
Then there is quality in loneliness,
solace in freedom.
However, if you are falling from dreams,
so as your fabricated life, ends,
it breaks at the seams.
Ex 2nd 10th
13 Sept 2012
The friend
It was my friends birthday so i tried to write her a happy friendly poem. And this is what i got -_- Its a lot more lovey and sounds alot like the person has left me, gone to university, or died ..
In times to come
when i lie on pastures green,
will you lie with me?
Though unseen.
In times to come
when i look to the sky,
will you look with me?
at every ray and beam.
In times to come
you will be with me
walk with me,
lie with me,
see with me,
even though
you are not with me,
you are far away,
we will be as one.
Because, my friend,
who we are,
is what we become,
and you and i, my friend
we are so similar, that,
our minds, hearts,
are not yet done.
Ex 12/9
In times to come
when i lie on pastures green,
will you lie with me?
Though unseen.
In times to come
when i look to the sky,
will you look with me?
at every ray and beam.
In times to come
you will be with me
walk with me,
lie with me,
see with me,
even though
you are not with me,
you are far away,
we will be as one.
Because, my friend,
who we are,
is what we become,
and you and i, my friend
we are so similar, that,
our minds, hearts,
are not yet done.
Ex 12/9
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