The insignificance of the man as a drop of water
going a long a drop in the stream rolling across the land
in no special pattern achieving nothing at all
and screaming out to the rain to land a certain way
like a drop in a river or an ocean
It seems there is no values
therefore no under convictions
a slippery slope for the soul and it's ridiculous baggage
a thousand opinions and clusters start forming
you got a freeze on and no melt
but its just so things slide off you all
reaching for the necklace
the only connection the girl had to her mother
thrown into the world
to make it to the other side of school
those who would ridicule
Unknowing of the struggles
Some come to the race well fed
well groomed and overconfident
The girl had every flow against her
she got 30% of the way through
most of the others got to the other side
and invented excuses to explain away the discrepancy of treatment
Her struggle sculpted her in every fibre of her soul
the inner and the outer being the emotional and physical
The inner wit thread strong and taut
she had invisible enemies during each round
she reached for her necklace
Praying for the next evenful chapter of her life
even as the rest of them would scowl
I had little empathy for the boy uncouth ungroomed
who was actually ostracized from the classroom
digging away at my conscience was the young me
no different to the clown clumsy not free
obsessed with getting attention
more distracted than a psychotic cat
but simple and wanting love
lonely and tristful brat
The group personality has already passed judgement
to the pariah of the group frowning
teaching is like climbing a mountain
and finding just the right view to point out the truth
Noone was interested in his little handful of truth
too much lint and sparechange pocket of the brute
too much residue from painful temper tantrums
noone to comfort him through thick and thin
Every boy and girl is thrown into their prospective schools
with their disorders acceptable or unacceptable by rules
clashing with views and sharp idiosynchracies
so out of proportion and explosive such disparities
Young quickly learn to compare themselves hopefully astute
Not necessarily looking at those inner hidden attributes
But betting everything on the most popular feats of stupidity
teachers and faculty satisfy themselves in unison to the cacophony
Albeit they pretend to hold back their bark
But feed it with sarcasm and smirks and banal remarks
acting as a wall not to stop the useless effort of many
but to guide into fruitless failure and a sense of futility
A brass medal that everyone wins to not feel obsolete
A participation trophy to rub the salt into freshly cut meat
To hide the humiliation so it festers instead of heals
Among the peers all know the truth, the score and the hidden appeal
passivity renders the helpless introvert
vulnerable
a fish beached
The maniac grin of the charismatic extrovert
honourable
The garish besseches
The mixture of people using confused urges
unfavorably
a freak wish
The masochist and psychopath join so suavely
An itch reached
The lack of meaning for humanity troubling
A stitch of impeachment
against the equilibrium once calm now bubbling
They teach the glitch
In our psyche as if it we need instructions to struggling
Genius child built the whole ship
readying it for an inevitable day
Much like a restless noah
In a time when we were completely brainwashed
machine like
the edges of every family came together
bringing the dirt and filth of drama from trauma
that we can feast on before the food arrives a storm
the insatisfactions of the past simply lumped onto the elders
Old family members assume the blame
like gravy soaked puree
That Genus child who engineered an escape
from a time when optimism had died
people hugged their pod cushions
ignoring the worrying consequences
Responsibility was outlawed
like that acidic brocolli isolated on the edge of the plate
refusing it with fervor
That genius child brought us all together
ignorant and stubborn we came together
selfishly praying for our own supply of sugar and fat
That genius child replenished our faith
Intelligence and creativity
and we embarked drinking and eating and finally living
semblances of a once great humanity
I'm born I was born i live
I thrive I jump I am it I taunt
I bolt I grow and grow and want
I see i divide I judge I flaunt
I fall from the forest like fruit at first unsteady
I stand again awake aware and ready
I run I chase I hunt I am alive I quest
I strike I kill I eat I digest
Firey horizons scare our kin and wives
pushing us out of our old lives
toward the sleepy villages
unknown war wages
I am the invader pest
I the ruthless colonist
death makes my nest
pushing out the old residents
to raise my brood
defeat the locals
steal their farms and food
The disorderly bench
tools and rubbish haphazardly left
Order hinders creativity
everything needs its place
The smell of burnt wood
cut marks soot filled
saw dust and metal dust
in small galaxies across the floor
cardboard edges almost forming a carpet
The smell of rotting vegetation
10am sun pouring in
through the half opened
corrugated door
stains in the concrete floor
The bathroom door ajar
Work is a reality a whiff of progress
Tasks on a list
energy in the gut
all waiting to be distributed
four pm and the sun was as low as the window
shining in as if uninvited glaring throughout
whether they spoke of the past or the future
it wasn't extended
silence won the afternoon
coming over the two men heavily
forcing them into their silly interpretations
of what the other had said
The kitchen a narrow short corridor
wallpaper from the sixties
musky smell of neglected herbs
a cigarette lights up and blustery cough
a quick opinionated attempt at current politics
a retort from son
A sigh and a yawn
that is the amount of those exchanges
The concerns of the old
repetetive conversions
A millenia of pointless chats
at four pm nonstop
of beard scratching
head nodding head shaking
attempts at good bye
circulating through beliefs
landing on a few agreements
insisting on uneasy disagreements
a state of eternal dialogue then silence
They sit up there luke warm coffee
caramels and cigarettes
machine like responses
the inside falls out in different moods
different tones and urgency
You have become what you thought within
to what you are without
a layer of sweat in the 4pm sun
tired to ask how work is going
work finished a millenia ago
walking stick holding him up
almost a stroll down Matenga street
His skin as red as leather
lateness and anxiety
How they blend
overwhlemed and overworked
hopeful brow
Lateness nothing more than sickened anticipation
table is full of anxiety
car door opens
look down at the time
boss eyes use windows
as spectacles
heart rate spikes
junk food crumbs falls from frown
Enter company forehead burns
lateness and anxiety blend
all impulsive organs squirt
toxic drops of desperation
quicker faster
coffee spilt
a fever of jitters
How it all blends
there was something familylike about leaving the feast
all of these middle chunk folk prepared the bland foods
steaming and boiling it all until it would be edible
a mouthful is equal to smile
The cave was protection
it stretches forward into the present
in the form a of a sewer drain
Not a noble blessed cave
like the one we came out of
Leaving the cave
to live off the mountain
metaphor a mouthful
equal to a smile
and infants ignorance
oh hell it's secret wisdom
siphoned off through a new conditioning
The arc like hills lining the long voyage roads
provided the picnic spot for a family to ponder
the life of the rose before it faded
The food of life a fruit of planning
the privilege of planning
the belief of abundance
the culling of expectation
bland boiled food of life
sustenance in a smile
a purpose sharpened and elegant
more likened to the sport of work
the stainglass illusion necessity
leaving the cave
returning from approved vacation
fathers and mothers best intentions
were the seasonings
that never entered the pot
some prioritized writing them on the chalkboard
outside of the eatery womb
so that one would grin and grow their appetite
sustenance in a smile
entering and searching the flavor with tongue and curiosity
the cooks mistook the silence for satisafaction
the few lucky ones who abhor the spice
gleamed so
a mouthful equal to a smile
life as a triangle
I drew it across the air
many would call me crazy
enteraining the unseen
many shapes come to mind
imagine a triangle
three points like a trinity
metaphors and meanings
semi forthcoming
if life was just a church
settling into a pew
like a real square
a box in heaven
more of the same by the wise
some of that new flavor
as if our mouths were replaced
with fresh lips and
new tongues
triangular teeth
a gateway
the rectangular mouth
heaven being digested by the holy trinity
for an even part of forever
a narrow chin
a wide forehead
In the womb of an angel
warm and hungry
desperate to be born
On an earth that could roll
much like a round wheel
I walked out of the mustard stained day
heroically as if I had lived it before
down through short pray leaf shrubs
under the tall eternal night of a valley thick forest canopy
leaf mold and rusty fences that would divide it inside
now just relicky trash
up the other side of the hill to catch a glance at the city
through a clearing I looked down over the land
distant lakes lit up by the sun almost blinding
and scattered little villages
It never was a city
I walked away from the race track ramp
that failed gurus had established as a rite of passage
empty places pull in ghosts
and ghosts are sucked into empty places
a few moments of nostalgia replayed eternally
a few moments of trauma likewise
Those keen slabs of concrete
ghost blood grey
I above the land no road or path ahead
It shocks a lifeless human into vitality
to realize that truly being lost
is the only form of real honesty
squeeze through into new rules
beg for your existance
sing for your soup
crawl until you can walk
I admire your style of obedience
you are really fitting in respectfully
maybe we can squeeze you into a trophy
scribble your name on a certificate
so run here's spot for the approved drafting
walk into the group lock choreography
this flavor of compliance arouses
the wolf out there
I can read your face
it's a sports car
in a traffic jam zero awareness
these guidelines prompt your admirable deference
Duty duty
quells the sense of self
scripts a path
skips the unknown
what a rehearsal
beautiful routines
photo albums
adjust yourself accordingly
the light you seek
is the just glare of your peers
pizza like opinions
are to be distributed and shared
I can really relate
to your instagram elegy
little bird
weighing down the branch of love
wings a ready ever easy
flight inevitable
in midair observing below
eye follows beak eyes are peeled
toward something to peck
into the shade concealed
where larger animals
cannot identify
weighing down another branch
tweeting in the undergrowth
plain as day from the throat
life inside you
little bird
weighing very little
an insect crawl meal
build a nest breed and feel
fly away
sacred ethereal streams
following behind
faith has wings say it
to carry the weight
trouble's brow just lift
It was food thrown to the ground. A busy crazy kitchen
Dozens of children, lower parts of the city flooded
yet all ignore and invent euphoria
a set of competitions. Out on the long field
along the white house, short cut grass
chaos chaos
chaotically dressed. The children readied themselves to attack each other
lonely city big concrete slabs in the distance
this short sunstained green grass we hold
now the fighting will ensue
No dojo just a small lawn
four groups of insane children lunging at each other
no rules or order. Just bacon and bread on the floor
Pines cowardly swing away from it all
2 missing fingers just bones now
holding them up with her good hand
the university had it's own hospital unit
the celebration was an incredible band
mascots and bombastic music
completely unfitting a desperate person
struggling with a strange hand injury
worried that it would all worsen
fear to the point of fury
coming out of the gym
sense of lack at the end of a limb
or explosive challenges
boney fingers
a woman imbalanced
sad old girl trapped in drama 2 missing fingers
bones now abrupt howls and calls
coming out of the mall
connected to the university
The cheap doctor could be found
pigging out in the food court greasy and round
He gave a discount for repairing the fingers
but the stumps albeit continued to linger
far off apartment buildings knock on doors
we thought they were on the second floor
yet fingers abandoned we never saw more
desperation at fingers lost carelessly
the noise and blurr so starkly cut from awareness see
empty apartments the remnants on cruise ships
deafening music in ballrooms of decorative trimmings
As we climb these tall apartment buildings
in the fruitless quest for these two boney fingers
that this old woman seemed to have lost
if dead and bone and doctor's grimace
we shall never retrieve these digits
A mission for the incurable injury
Embarking across the city
traffic lights are people in fact
changing their expressions
to invite or avoid
Infront is a dozen converted train carriages
now food trucks with hopeful enthusiastic cooks
looking out over the small crowds
so one might catch a glimpse of the smile
to be hooked in
to some fried carb or protein
sauce dressed
an exchange that might be a highlight
afternoon doesn't obey
people change their minds
and cannabalism is frowned upon
So one foot infront of the other
seeking the heat of the city
the radiating concrete
no street trees
shopfronts zero appeal
Nothing to trick the eye
just the practical smell of plastic and steel
just my foot prints
and brain's digestion
afternoon people greet hurriedly
despite repeating the circuit for centuries
checking the box fast to get to the next traffic light
slowing down stopping and continuing
novelty trance
a sense of throroughfare
speed the conman of achievement
anxious people running on foodtruck grease
I saw over the other side of the world
we'd negotate tickets to once again see each other
amusement parks in tropical places
rust like chicken wire holding us graceless
Grand rivers thick blue grey cloud touching
glistening pasture theres your face
humidity has this monopoly
noone broaches the subject
moss in the shadows
concealing the old building colors real desires
old comforting falsehoods overgrown
the mythical return of loving years
sweet naiivety across our curious foreheads and cheeks
guiding us into delusions we once had of growing up
and now we are here and it's almost raining
this riverside port with so many warehouses
each one empty and celebrated as if full
traffic anxious and abrupt speeding as gates lift
and portmen wave them through
from one boat to land expecting drizzle
the heart wet wth the hopeful flow of blood
We promised ourselves that upon the completion of this life
we would have expanded love and every magnificient gesture of it
don't let the weather stop you from traveling
Don't let customs stop you from getting aboard
those soggy tickets in hand love a dream
mist coming in heavily concealing the tides out there
beyond the warm river
You all dream about ports and trips
the absudity of feeling unique
somewhere far from your nest
oh the wonder of such a dry place
protected from the weirdness of the unknown
cozy and furry like the bold blue stratus
that longs for night as you do for distance
yet equally longing for the prosiac familiarity
As junkie in a cell
baby far from breast
stomach from feast
child from embrace
and youll be pondering like a predictable machine
how the trip will go
as you disappear into the thickness
leaving your handprint in the moisture on the window
welcome to a life of custard
let it not dry and crust up
for the buildings levels are a live
seeking you to fill an office
exchange a few smiles
get the jobs done
feel a slight sense of pride
substitute the rest of your life
Those young faces here to greet you
their eyes fill up with familiarity
as they greet you like you were savior
the awning outside the front of the building
shaded
formal
Back up to guide youg lives into some custard bias
the milk of years gone by
it's the certainty in your voice
cunningly obscuring your errors
lick tenure now
one cycle after the next
the entitled accusing the entitled
seasons leave you retirement beacons
forgetfulness
duty
One cried
not enough sugar
rhyming
or remuneration
I lived Once before this all, t'was a chore
just a thin man in the small town Blyth
Not a lot of prospects then called off to war
fought a few years and stole my fair share
collectibles some off the old bodies
unluckily deceased in the fray thrill
Back in Blyth i'd tell heroic stories
about the men I'd saved and killed
enough free drinks at the tavern is the truth
to make a tippler out of me never mistook
Sold my old relics to thatch the holy roof
became a lowly coalminer at Durham crook
every night empty home no hi's or goodbyes
coughing and soiled problems pissing
for a decade of booze and beautiful lies
that singing fools would pay drink to listen
The old cabin so cold as January finishes
down yeavering way a no exit diminished
each year another gram of exhaustion
another bag of memories extinguished
The loneliness holds me up
on my motorcycle as I speed off
to another shift down the shaft
No fuel in the legs
parents dead
siblings gone
talking to myself
deeper into silence
The street outside howling and sinister
in these bland frightful fangfull winters
I swear black shuck looked up from a hedgerow
As I glanced out streetlight glow expose
silence a cold lake feeling the flow
freezing over tediously slowly
the wind that breathes down yeavering way
under my front door hampering my brave
tickling the fire shivers feel a price
shutting the water and the past inside ice
whispering all the lies i've told back to me
A quiet tax on the conscience weighing heavily
Oh the fuss I am he said
The anxious nausea ahead
liquid like being sipped I'd say
to get us through an underwhelming day
the fuss I am
the fine clothes I demand
the right words to spew
associations I grew
smooth as the ruse
i believe I'm smooth
rolling off the ability
to vanglorify my self supercilious
the fuss I am dominates so brace for
the petulance that comes over my face
like a warm inviting smile cold and stoney
flooding this prodigious sanctimony
The fuss I am sits shaking to attack
begging to foresee and pleading to pro act
pedantic and finical inside my own headlock
reaching for that blindfold while I continually mock
avoiding my hypocrisy
to not taste or smell leave me be
the pretentious fumes omitting out of me
So I can get onto the business of putting into view
the criteria I need for judging the rest of you
lying in the grass outside lille
Deep green short dense grass offering a mattress
seems clean mild cloud couldn't hold the land
passes like time
the world is a forehead round and unflattering
resting back letting that southern warmth throw
more air over it all soothing and healing
surreal to a metropolitan anxious waste
late morning toasted bread subtle coffee
late afternoon the soup cauldron full
and something mammal roasts
how the mouth makes a slave
