Sunday 17 April 2016
Monday 11 April 2016
Faces in the trees
It was quite a sight to see.
I look up and all there is to see are trees.
On closer inspection the different forms and limbs start to morph and combine.
When so many patterns, objects and faces come to mind.
Some are scary things and others are not.
Sometimes the good things change their face.
Other times the evil things turn good.
In this place of the trees.
Its dosent much matter matter.
I look up and all there is to see are trees.
On closer inspection the different forms and limbs start to morph and combine.
When so many patterns, objects and faces come to mind.
Some are scary things and others are not.
Sometimes the good things change their face.
Other times the evil things turn good.
In this place of the trees.
Its dosent much matter matter.
Sunday 10 April 2016
Combination on lock
Brain is dead, no thoughts.
I don’t want to be saved because it’s already too late.
Love is like that ulcer that you keep tonguing.
Slipping through space and time. Wondering if you’ll be mine.
Now I can’t rap and I can’t sing. But soon you will see I do this thing where I say words.
Live fast and it will break you. Die young. It will make you.
I don’t want to be saved because it’s already too late.
Love is like that ulcer that you keep tonguing.
Slipping through space and time. Wondering if you’ll be mine.
Now I can’t rap and I can’t sing. But soon you will see I do this thing where I say words.
Live fast and it will break you. Die young. It will make you.
A side note to this poem - I always have a note in my phone chocked full of phrases and little bits and bobs I think of but have no use for. One day I was reading down it and was incredibly surprised when it read this beautiful. I haven’t changed or rearranged anything here it’s just how I wrote each snippet.
Wednesday 6 April 2016
The story of the two trees
This is the story of two trees.
One grew straight and the other crooked.
The straight tree always passed judgment on his brother for being crooked and not growing straight. He used to laugh and remind him that he was growing the wrong way.
Until one day the lumberjacks came through and said to cut all the straight trees down.
Goes to show even the best of us get cut down to size.
- wristcutters a love story
One grew straight and the other crooked.
The straight tree always passed judgment on his brother for being crooked and not growing straight. He used to laugh and remind him that he was growing the wrong way.
Until one day the lumberjacks came through and said to cut all the straight trees down.
Goes to show even the best of us get cut down to size.
- wristcutters a love story
Ignition
These red thoughts are warm and fuzzy.
These thoughts are fun and buzzy.
These warm feelings are funny.
These fuzzy feelings are clearing.
These thoughts are fun and buzzy.
These warm feelings are funny.
These fuzzy feelings are clearing.
Tuesday 5 April 2016
New times to come
My thoughts are translucent and thick.
It’s a strange feeling to be sure.
A feeling I’ve not felt before.
Breathing deep has always been a problem.
But for some reason these days there isn’t resistance.
No weight pressing down on my chest.
No short scared breaths.
I can hear my self from with in.
It’s a strange feeling to be sure.
A feeling I’ve not felt before.
Breathing deep has always been a problem.
But for some reason these days there isn’t resistance.
No weight pressing down on my chest.
No short scared breaths.
I can hear my self from with in.
Saturday 2 April 2016
Ultra violet
Some times I want to crawl out of this skin of mine.
Some times I want to change my mind.
Make mistakes and dance all night.
Say fuck it to the world.
Some times I want to fly like Icarus.
Shoot so far and super fast, burn like hell to make it last.
Some times I want to change my mind.
Make mistakes and dance all night.
Say fuck it to the world.
Some times I want to fly like Icarus.
Shoot so far and super fast, burn like hell to make it last.
L
The horror these eyes have seen.
Nothing on the surface to see, he seems normal enough.
The bad times are bad but the worst times are still to come.
You know you can’t run from a demon when you have nightmares when your awake.
He flinches from a force that can no longer hurt him.
And yet still continues to cause him pain.
He twitches from the thought of the event. Both seeing it as a blur and crystal clear in his head.
He is confused.
The voice taunts him from afar and sometimes takes the time to find him where he had been hiding.
He feels sick to his stomach. Other people feel rage and anger. But these are not the emotions he harbors In his heart.
He dosent know what this world is coming to. Nor does he know if he wants to be apart of it.
Every time he sees something in this world worth living for he gets crushed and shunted aside like yesterday’s news.
Every time he sees a light it’s always dimmed by his views.
They say to him time heals everything. But he knows that’s a sour truth. Because be that as it may it’s also the slow ticking of that same clock that kills.
How can someone die if they hadn’t ever lived he wonders to him self.
He shan’t think about this morbid subject lightly. For everything has its timing.
Nothing on the surface to see, he seems normal enough.
The bad times are bad but the worst times are still to come.
You know you can’t run from a demon when you have nightmares when your awake.
He flinches from a force that can no longer hurt him.
And yet still continues to cause him pain.
He twitches from the thought of the event. Both seeing it as a blur and crystal clear in his head.
He is confused.
The voice taunts him from afar and sometimes takes the time to find him where he had been hiding.
He feels sick to his stomach. Other people feel rage and anger. But these are not the emotions he harbors In his heart.
He dosent know what this world is coming to. Nor does he know if he wants to be apart of it.
Every time he sees something in this world worth living for he gets crushed and shunted aside like yesterday’s news.
Every time he sees a light it’s always dimmed by his views.
They say to him time heals everything. But he knows that’s a sour truth. Because be that as it may it’s also the slow ticking of that same clock that kills.
How can someone die if they hadn’t ever lived he wonders to him self.
He shan’t think about this morbid subject lightly. For everything has its timing.
Polarize
Searching for meaning in This vast ocean of people.
Society has a place for you, behind a desk.
Your outfit is chosen.
Your identity subdued.
The boot of society stamping out the difference in he rest.
Colours are too hard to handle.
Black and white convictions.
Never changing ideas and jurisdictions.
Society has a place for you, behind a desk.
Your outfit is chosen.
Your identity subdued.
The boot of society stamping out the difference in he rest.
Colours are too hard to handle.
Black and white convictions.
Never changing ideas and jurisdictions.
Listen to me.
That’s all I ask.
I know you hear me but the words don’t sink in.
We talk for hours only for you to turn around and ask all the same questions.
I might be quiet or you might be deaf.
But for 20 years of my life I feel I haven’t been heard yet.
It’s not fair, it’s not ok.
I want to talk about these feelings in my brain.
You shoot me down like I’m a lead Zeppelin.
My none existent confidence cant stand it.
I can barley breath around you for fear I might do it wrong.
Just listen to me and I will tell you.
That’s all I ask.
I know you hear me but the words don’t sink in.
We talk for hours only for you to turn around and ask all the same questions.
I might be quiet or you might be deaf.
But for 20 years of my life I feel I haven’t been heard yet.
It’s not fair, it’s not ok.
I want to talk about these feelings in my brain.
You shoot me down like I’m a lead Zeppelin.
My none existent confidence cant stand it.
I can barley breath around you for fear I might do it wrong.
Just listen to me and I will tell you.
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