Today I stumbled upon a ghost
An accidental apparition
Best not give it too much thought though
Or it’ll move into the loft
And exorcists are hard to come by these days
Category: Observations
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Old man traffic cone
I wonder when the day will come,
The day when I will be that weathered old man
Standing and staring at the traffic
Almost as if to say,
This is enough for me
I’mma stand here and watch the rest of you mugs run
You’ll all stop eventually
But fresh ones will keep coming
Keep on running
Pretending we have somewhere to be
As though the circles we run will set us free
No thanks youngun, this is far enough for me
Peace and love ✌🏽
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Summiting
Somehow, words tend to fall short.
Clichés of bleeding pens,
Of pouring hearts onto pages—
Nonsense!
They never crossed the writer’s door.
Ring-fenced within words, the heart is mute.
To believe otherwise is vanity—
It’s foolish
One can write and write, yet the words arrive stale,
Pale and cold in the shadow of mountains
They try and fail to describe
I do not know which medium would suffice,
Just not that of the scribe
How many times, in how many ways,
Have I longed to make you see through my eyes?
Make you believe what I believe—
Yet as soon as the word is written,
It is at the mercy of what you perceive
It’s make-believe
And then somehow,
The mountains I peaked become molehills…
Or maybe..
I’m just blaming my pen.
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Under the clock
Perched in the rafters of Waterloo station
Watching the show unfold
A production of epic proportions
Stage left, right, north, south, it’s a free for all!
Some seem to know their lines, others a little lost
Missing their cues, they beg the departure board for clues
Every direction, every face, invites indulgence in sonder
Who are they? Where are they going?
Infinite stories unfolding
Impossible to know
How unsatisfying
In the midst of this choreographed chaos,
Under the disembodied – allegedly iconic – clock, two bodies meet
Greeting with a kiss, a quip and slightly averted glances
Nervous and slightly breathless
A new romance
About to leave the station
Godspeed to you
-
Putting it on paper
Am I writing you out of me,
or writing you into existence?
Does the paper take the weight of the words,
or immortalise a fleeting thought?
Oh the irony…
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Urban Buddha
A whirring fridge,
Intermittent hissing
from an old boiler
And the clacking staccato
of a suitcase bouncing
along the pavement outside
With me in the middle
The conductor of this cacophony
Struggling to harmonise
this discorded orchestra
As the magpie is tone deaf,
And that leafblower
is messing up the crescendo…
I think I’m meditating wrong
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A void dance
If I look to the world for company, I find it fleeting
I forget every time that you’re in here all along
Beating gently within and without,
The only certainty atop my mountain of doubt
I need not listen for your whispers,
For in that straining, the undue pain of loneliness is paid with interest
Torment replaces rest, and your peace is drowned
Let me go
Let me drown instead
End that ego that begins and ends in my head
Become nothing,
Where it all begins with no end
Embrace the void,
To feel full again.
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Deadwood
In a rolling meadow stands a solitary tree,
A mighty noble oak, it would seem.
Its facade broad and strong,
Yet marked by demise, long writ across its pale, brittle carcass.
Withered branches contort skyward, as if pleading for another day.
How cruel the fate, to stand frozen in a plea.
A once vibrant life, now a stark harbinger of the inevitable.
Imprisoned in time like the statues of Pompeii,
Cursed to stand like a rooted memory,
God’s own sculpted memento mori,
Longing to become the wind.
-
The dry cleaner
Spread, fold,
Stretch and steam,
Press, assess—
Then on to the next
Costumes, disguises,
Glad rags and sad,
Press, assess—
Then on to the next
Daily, nightly,
They come and they go,
Press, assess—
Then on to the next
Scraping, slamming,
Shutters pulled down,
Keep the actors dressed
Till the curtain comes down
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Midnight train
Laying out tracks for the incoming train of thought
Freight train of course
Need space for all the baggage
It’s going to be a heavy load tonight
The workers better hurry and put that track down
Derailing is not desirable
Could you imagine?
The carnage would be unspeakable
It took a lifetime to accumulate all this baggage
Although… offloading some couldn’t hurt right?
Might reach the destination a little faster?
A little lighter?
The thoughts a good one
Just a backpack and a deep breath
Guys take a break tonight
I’m done thinking
I’m dreaming now
And last time I checked, trains can’t fly
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The big man
People give space when you look like me
I’m pretty big and broad you see
I saunter at a leisurely pace
Lumbering like a gorilla on a Sunday stroll
You wouldn’t ask me the time or to take a picture
Now that’s not to say I look mean
I’m harmless but I guess you see the potential
Calculate the risk and give me a wider berth
The armour I’ve built is doing its job I guess
A little too well
I designed it to shield myself and those I love
A human shield you could say
So impenetrable it seems that even kindness can’t get in
You won’t see me and offer a word of comfort
Or an offer to join you
At most a smile to pacify the big man sitting alone
In hopes he smiles back and leaves you alone
I see you shifting anxiously so I bury myself in my phone
Catching my big man’s reflection
Remembering what you see
For I am invisible
But not the big man
-
The Cave
Love yourself
Love myself?
Love the shadows on the wall?
What’s casting them?
Is it me?
My self?
My ego?
Is it everything?
Is loving myself turning around?
I wish I knew how to turn this thing around
I have to admit, I don’t love this
The shadows are too black and white
I want to feel the heat of the fire on my face
Look beyond the flames and see
See Everything
See it for what it really is
Unchained and unfettered
Maybe, see what’s worth loving?
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Elders
Am I now the elder I looked up to?
Man it don’t feel that way
I wonder, were they fucked up too?
Did they feel they strayed, often lay awake afraid thinking that they’re corrupt too?
Running out of elders to ask now
I ran out on my own, to own it alone
Now I’m home alone in a home on loan
Due on rent but never paid due to my ‘rents
Or did I? It’s hard to say
Look, it was hard to stay
It was inevitable we’d part ways
I wanted to say I did it my way
But my way meant the highway
Cos conditions weren’t good for me to thrive
Cos I was conditioned to just ‘be good’ to survive
When I hit the highway though..man I never felt so alive
Driving my hand me down
Wishing they could see me now
1.6 focus zetec
Telling myself it’s my time
It’s me next
I’m gonna smash the world
Gonna get me a girl
And all the basics a tween gets gassed about
15 years later I’ve got a hangover and a stitch
Man I’m gassed out
I need to stretch it out
Downward dog this thing
Sometimes, I feel I’m barking mad
Happy half the time and for that I’m glad
Grateful for the memories when I’m feeling sad
Sometimes, I think I’m just like my dad
He’s mad anxious and introspective
Reflective to the point that he’s ineffective
I can only see myself though, I’m being selfish
Cos beyond all his doubts he has forgiveness, kindness and a compassionate ease
Thank you dad, for giving me a piece of your mind
It’s not a sickness
It’s not a disease
Just gotta keep it in check
And forgive it sometimes
Give it some time
Help it not relive all the times
Maybe perhaps just stick it in a rhyme?
Shit that was deep for me..
Like something an elder would say?
Maybe one day
Now let me go dye those greys
Oh..wait..
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Limelight
Everyone tells me it’s simple
It’s seems so simple in theory
In a feeling, in a poem, in my heart I feel it all
So why won’t my mind let me believe?
Why does it fight love with fear?
I just want to be here and live the story
Not write my own
It’s a vast stage already
Why do I insist on doing improv in the cloakroom?
You can’t have dialog while reciting a soliloquy
Hear what is said and not what you think
That’s what I think people try to say
Reality is out there but what is real?
Their version or mine?
I have to trust that they nor I know
Yet we have to trust the dialog and engage
Here comes the fear demanding certainty
This floor open to unpredictability overwhelms me
Or is it you fear, that is overwhelmed?
I’m curious to see down the road
You wish to know it all before you know
See the end before we’re into the second act
At least read a review first
Yet this stage never ends
Exit stage left brings us right back to where we are
So next time let’s stay in the limelight a little longer
Or shall I say, I stay in the limelight
I can hold your hand in the shadow if you want?
But you follow me
-
Qué sera?
Searching for tomorrow
Daydreaming through today
Feels like I live half my life
And think the rest away..
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Wishing well
Such tranquility looking up from the bottom of this well
Quiet solitude and a beating heart
Where will you hide from the echoes in this chamber?
-
Losing myself
I’m not me
Was I ever?
Me has been a boy
A man
A thousand faces
Never changing
Never the same
You know me
He knows me
She knows me
They all know faces
Faces in spaces and time
Was it me?
When was me?
The boy in the space jam pyjamas?
The romantic?
The villain?
Hurt or hurting?
Comparing or contrasting?
I don’t know me
The idea of me
As if I am
I wonder what I would ask
If I were to be acquainted with I
Would I believe in I
Or you
All of you I’ve known
Thought to be true
Avatars
Energies
Faces in spaces and time
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A shot for hope
Sitting here again
Thinking, drinking
Smoking something straight up stinking
Reminiscing all the faces that be missing from my life
Spinning stories of strife on the edge of knife
Carving off the fat to show the starving soul
The story untold
The voice that’s never heard, it’s absurd all the words that we use
More red herrings than clues that we use to confuse
Hiding all the skeletons cos that shits too gory
Dressing it up in synonyms
You say it’s allegory
It’s simple really
I’m sick of feeling sad
Sick of waiting for the sun
Sick of pretending to be glad
Sick of people being sick
And coughing up their lungs
Sick of missing all the laughter
Sick of worrying about my mum
Sick of seeing people dying
Sick of coffins on the news
Sick of not seeing anyone
Sick of the world being stuck on snooze
Sick of hearing about the sickness
Sick of the hate and all the lies
Sick of sitting here just sitting
Sick of being too scared to go outside
Feeling restless and lazy it amazes me how the days gone by are one big hazy mess
Distressed I confess I fear I’m far less than who I was
It’s just my anxiety man
It shouldn’t scare me but it does
There I said it
I spoke it into existence
Some days are heavenly but others I have to be persistent
Resisting the urge to sit quietly and listen to the words it puts in my head
I have to fight hard to seize the day
And believe in myself instead
For the love of life and for the love of my life
Since this day is all there is
There’s gotta be a better way
Man this ain’t no way to live
Here’s to hoping so let me just say
I hope that we can dance again
Hope that we can laugh again
Hope to wipe your tears with my own hands when we can hug again
Hope that you’re still friends of mine
Hope that we can jam sometime
Hope that we can say we’re not ok and not just say I’m fine
Hope that we will fly some day
Drink cocktails in the sea some day
Hope that I can learn to swim and chase you down the beach some day
Hope there’s queues outside the bars
Hope that we can see the stars
Hope that all the wounds can heal
And all we have to show is scars
Hope we see some better times
Hope I write some happy rhymes
Hope to reminisce about all this like it was all a dream sometime.
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Strange love
Love is a strange thing indeed
Someone gave it to me
Someone stole it from me
Someone showed me right
Someone showed me wrong
Someone helped me put it all together
Someone else reaped the reward
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