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  • Bring back the Titans

    When you sit back and have no remorse
    For what you have done.
    You offer this self-elated smile to the world
    And let the grains of gravity
    Slip between your fingers.

    When you have just split a bond so tethered
    That it tears and pulls apart
    That scar you thought had mended,
    It brings your scenery into question.
    Thoughts run and swirl to cause chaos.

    When you perceive your reality change,
    Like a new born that has escaped
    The foetus of maternal protection,
    Wholly vulnerable,
    You sit there with an awkward smile.
    Content but with pangs of guilt.

    Reminisicent of the Golden Age
    But when natural forces surrended
    The Olympians overthrew and banished them.
    If you concentrate you can feel them -
    Cool but faded evening lights flicker
    Once more before dying.

    Inevitably, it is soft familiar sleepy scenery
    That envelopes you;
    But this time you become conscious of
    Oily darkness that seeps in and smothers
    Those titanic efforts are thwarted
    And you become afraid of the dark.

  • sun ritual

    To my match of bottomless beauty.
    The one who makes me feel hand picked,
    Who pulls invisible threads that arch my mouth
    Upwards towards the sky.
    Tingle in my toes as I forget my woes,
    Wrapping my hands around your silky fingertips
    That seem to pulsate warmth and clarity.
    Eyes closed feeling my pride shining brilliantly bright,
    With you in mind it guides me through turbulent times.
    Hairs prickling on my neck I can only surrender
    Everything to kiss your lips
    Daylight comes to wash over me
    The sleepy sun stares at my smile
    As you lie dormantly in my clasp.
    And allows me to partake in its splendour
    This secret ritual we exchange our Oaths
    And a deal is struck to shine more radiantly than before.

  • Eternally thankful

    Pitch black with silver spider-webs of moonlight,
    Pools of silver crystallised on the surface of the deep damp lake
    The old wind rattles and races through the steep hilled valleys.
    Nature lifts its ancient head breathing song into the birds,
    Providing movement and sudden enthusiastic flight
    Tiger skins of sunlight warm the frosty moors.
    Life raises its weary body,
    Tired from its battle to sift the chemicals from its land
    It aches from its efforts to scarcely sustain fertility in its species.
    Wounded from the jagged poles thrust into its crust,
    Scalped of its vegetation, it seems tortured and humanised.
    But there remains hope of the silent poet who sits
    And seems static, but his mind is racing
    Charged with grains of ideas which form springs of inspiration.
    Feeling the warmth from the soil on this bitter-cold day
    Connected through touch and sense, and spirit and mind,
    Charged by the energy that runs through the blades of grass
    Into his fingertips, he undertakes a vow to spread the words
    “Eternally thankful” for such beauty.

  • untitled - discovery as a child part 1

    Creeping down by the old withering trees,
    Like sorcerers did they whisper their secrets,
    Eyes widened with wonder, I tiptoed alone
    Climbing over their rooted defences
    Our ancestor’s land dipped and dived ahead.
    A forbidden kingdom that had to be discovered
    I beat sticks against stumps
    To prove my strength,
    And crumbled dry earth between my palms;
    Saving colour-speckled crinkly leaves
    Like secret relics did I cherish them
    Finding meaning in their waxy surface
    Deeper into the darkness
    Where light was not welcome
    Where branches interwove and held hands above me
    I found their gestures friendly,
    As they had shed leaves for me
    I gathered piles and rested my head
    Ready for the journey ahead.

  • How inspiration flows, it comes and goes.

    How refreshing it is to be back in France. Sitting in some lonely student cafe; whilst it pours down outside. Briefly forgot all my french; so I vow to speak it to Cecile now every day that I am here. I told her about the job that I was offered, which means that I have to return to London once again; reassuring her that we'll have a cat named Jackie when she comes. Blimey I feel down today, I hide myself amongst the shadows in the corner of the coffee shop and think about her and what I-m going to say when the waitress comes my way.

    Keep finding myself making long term promises with this girl, I dont think I've ever done this before. Maybe I promise to call some random female after a sordid one night stand because I cant stand the thought of meeting a girl once just for her to disappear; but these long term plans are NEW and its scares the shit out of me!!

    Just looked at the headlines on the bbc website; global shares tumbling and wiping out any gains. It makes me feel selfishly elated, I have to admit. Its the hope that this will spark some kind of global sustainable development revolution; where capitalism admits its flaws and we embrace a new philosophy of corporate social responsiblity. There is a feeling the pit of my stomach which turns over and over and I feel refreshed to have got out of bed this morning.

  • My pen of wrath

    Head up whilst my body follows idly along
    I struggle to smile as my vision is blurred by thick fog
    I wriggle to release myself from this prosthetic skin
    One red eye as that jagged vein scratches against my glossy eyeball
    Staring at the facts and the threats, yet I cannot act in time
    It makes me want to scream my purpose out loud
    And see if anyone can relate to my pain?
    Must I say goodbye to this passion of mine;
    This aching swell that never seems to go
    That’s seems to rule my thoughts and turns everything
    Into a cryptic poem;
    I invite you to dissect this raging thought
    Relentless wrath which rules and will not calm

    The pitch of my thought changes and hazes
    As I am greeted by the soft purrs of my feline friend
    And smile at her willingness to roll over
    And for me to scratch her head with my pen
    Which suddenly does not seem so angry with me.

  • dreaming of emptiness

    They say that emotions are potent; for they can steal your focus
    Pensive wandering is upon me, its cast its presence visibly:
    I’m sitting here thinking abstract, of crystal clear azurity,
    Oceans of purity - leafy-green islands of land - untouched beauty
    Fine-speckled golden sandy shores, wind whispering silent wishes,
    Gliding nonchalantly through cloudy depths hazing my gaze,
    Must awake from this revelry, I have so many things to complete,
    But why should I castigate the passions and erase this willing smile;
    I’ll only become bitter at the thought of the last aching mile.
    You have become the scenery for everyone of my thoughts,
    My imagination has run riot;
    And I can only think of beautiful things
    Preoccupied with you and my heart is my head.
    Your depart has left me with such emptiness instead

  • You

    What would happen if I acted on everyone of my urges ?
    Would it be safe to presume I would act responsibly ?
    Why castigate the passions as the author says ?
    Do we think too much about the consequence ?

    Talking to you arouses new interest in me.
    You saved me from monotony, from the droll of everyday scenery.
    Questions like these need no answer
    They are part of my everyday action, with you in mind.
    I never think twice when i’m with you.
    I feel the warmth and comfort of your approval.
    Your acceptance gves me new confidence.
    It brings waves of poetic brilliance
    Which just seem to flow through my veins.
    You bring calm in the middle of the night.
    You bring the force when I’m down and out,
    You make me smile when everyone radiates grief.
    You stop me from making a fool out of myself after too many drinks.
    Living with you in mind is living a day with sunshine
    You give me the ability to see the Earth in a postive shiny light,
    You provide warmth and clarity.

    You are my muse. You help me to weave creativity.
    You are my first waking thought
    You are my nurse in times of aching pain
    You are my support
    You help the clogs turn in my brain.

  • Dry Pocket

    All I need is my head
    My pocket is dry
    But words and anecdotes swapped are met with laughter
    No need for expense to impress
    Words invested in calculated topics and wit
    Capture me with your conversation
    Golden Fields over which we run riot
    Paths made by treading feet over the long wheat
    Which groan as we break their stems
    Two twenty year old kids
    Learning how to discover again

  • My ode to you know who

    What is it that you give me ?
    Apart from peace of mind and confidence.
    Solitary smiles guarenteed,
    I could almost say you complete me
    But then again you know I’m a fan of shunning self contentedness.
    Sometimes, one would say that i act if you give me next to nothing.
    Your stare teleports me to the days of a child
    I feel giddy and electric so selected and special

    Thankyou for making me believe who i am
    Let me take your hand, clasp it in our special way.
    Its fits in yours like that missing jigsaw piece.
    I am a bigger fan of you than you are of me.
    Let me say it and I want you to smile nonchalantly.
    Like you always do, an example of those quirks you possess.

    I wish I could lie because I’m scared of the truth.
    Although from this feeling I feel no need to be released.
    At the same time I feel free from strife.
    I’m grinning permanently,
    Your pure unrefined perfection makes me dream at night
    You throw clouds my way, so much so
    That the majestic view from my bedroom is your silhouette.

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