Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Youth's Manic Chic

To see you age, through smiles of stainless steel,
To see your salted skin begin to pale.
and the glint in your eyes become vulnerable tears...
I couldn't bear it.

So i look through a tint.
At everything as if,
everyone were there for solitary immortal moments.
captured in continuous plastic photographs,
Where no blood seeps through potential cracks.

They say these are the good days, the ones they talk about which fade.
Where music blasts through are ears so loud, the echoes of silence sit in the background like reapers and wait.
Like how our day of death hides behind a certain meander of fate.
not known until the step has been taken,
A footstep before your final feat.
When your invincible until your the day your not,
And death is only for a moment, and then the moments gone.

So you turn up the music inside your head,
of romanticized life, and feigned surprises.
And everything dead is something to be forgotten.
and all the gaps you jump over, that you never look below,
are inconveniences never to wonder about, never to ponder.
and you never think on it, the gaps you'll eventually collapse beneath,
The ones that lie below youths manic chic.


With no reason other than cowardice,
will I hide away from grape-vines,
and minds of those I care to understand.
I will hide from the transience of the fast slipping sand.

No perpetual wisdom will lead me to reclusion,
No Tibetan ritual of self-actualization.

With no other reason than fear,
will I hide away from crossroads.
And all those winding paths that lead to high roads and low roads,
I'll hide where no roads can lead to.
Under a cover of blissful ignorance.
Of beautiful insignificance and lack of experience.
Under a veil of twinkling stars,
The only thing left to fear being fear itself.

Monday, December 14, 2009

A song

I walked inside and I saw you, With all your budget beers,
And my face must have blended in with all your troubled tears.
And I can't forgive you, just because you apologized,
and your face crumpled up so much i couldn't recognize,
That face that sought and meant to hate,
That sealed my fate so readily
and destroyed these dreams so terribly,
And you sit there and stare at walls,
And time melts slowly by,
Oh I couldn't feel any worse, no I couldnt feel any worse,
And Time melts slowly by
Oh I'm sorry, so sorry, I couldn't find the words
And I'm sorry, the common blood couldn't wash away this hurt.
And your time melts slowly by.

Monday, December 7, 2009


level up, breathe past the surface,
stick your chin up and rise above it.
Let the water rise so close,
So you can open your mouth wide enough to taste it,
and the water rings through your ears,
emitting the echoes of your hollow heartbeat.

Sink into a watery realm,
where finger tips lengthen and skin softens.
Where hair fans out like flames in a breeze.
Where breath takes a time out and the mind winds down.
And everything slows down and is taken at ease.

Saturday, November 28, 2009

A Poem By Charles Bukowski

So You Want To Be A Writer

if it doesn't come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don't do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don't do it.
if you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen
or hunched over your
searching for words,
don't do it.
if you're doing it for money or
don't do it.
if you're doing it because you want
women in your bed,
don't do it.
if you have to sit there and
rewrite it again and again,
don't do it.
if it's hard work just thinking about doing it,
don't do it.
if you're trying to write like somebody
forget about it.
if you have to wait for it to roar out of
then wait patiently.
if it never does roar out of you,
do something else.

if you first have to read it to your wife
or your girlfriend or your boyfriend
or your parents or to anybody at all,
you're not ready.

don't be like so many writers,
don't be like so many thousands of
people who call themselves writers,
don't be dull and boring and
pretentious, don't be consumed with self-
the libraries of the world have
yawned themselves to
over your kind.
don't add to that.
don't do it.
unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don't do it.
unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don't do it.

when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in you.

there is no other way.

and there never was.

Monday, November 23, 2009


In my favorite dress of skin and cloth, I'll go out from warmth to wind.
I'll walk down the road to meet your eyes, on a dark, candle lit street.
I'll leave the air between our breath, to see what you can dish.
What movement and words the wind can bring,
and the effect, like a blow of fire and lead.

I'll unfurl myself outwards, to soak in the words.
let the pain seep into my every pore.
Breathe it in as if pain were part of the heavy air,
Breathe it in like my greatest friend.
I've kept you at bay for far too long,
I'll open my arms to you, my crouching tiger.
The only one always there when everyone else has left.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

following my head

A heart lies here in a darkened room,
clenching and letting go.
Like a fist in the night with a lot on it's mind,
It can't seem to just be still.
And a body encases the anger inside,
to feel it's every cry.
And I, the soul who holds it close,
will keep it company every night.
And I'll lie awake hearing its plea for me,
to just let go of sadness.
And it pleas please get up and follow me
and I'll bring you away from madness.
But then my mind reminds me that my heart is blind,
And would lead me through the thick and thin.
And even then I'll never catch up,
with the call that has my heart clenching.

Saturday, November 7, 2009

Conversation between Strangers

Man - you OK there?
Girl- Yeah.
Man- You don't look it. I saw you heading toward the water there, for a second I was thinking "oh shit", I thought I'd have to go swimming, and I'm not a strong swimmer so we'd both have drowned!
Man- Don't be a fool, last year I was a fool. Your not a fool are you?
Girl - No, I'm not a fool.
Man - Whats your name? I'm just heading home now.
They call me Frank, Frank the Tank, but that's a different story.
Girl - ......
Frank - let me tell you, Last year, I was at rock bottom. But my father used to always tell me that life was like a wheel, you can be at rock bottom one year, and the next you'd be at the top of it, and be the most popular in everything you do. Things always get better, don't let boys get you down anyway, there's plenty more of them.
Girl - It's not that.
Frank - Well whatever it is, take care of yourself, and get home safe.

Thursday, October 15, 2009

Eternally Underwhelmed

Its rarely i pierce through the grey tinted glass of my own world that veils me, as it veils us all, and take a breathe of raw reality.
I find the slight suffocation of personal reclusion, in our own bubbles to be warm and distracting.
the lack of oxygen like a lack of bitter perspective, eclipsing that feeling of a bottomless pit in the core of your being, and a cosy distraction from the cold vastness we perside in.

It's that grey tint that blocks out the sun and fire.
You're neither filled with happiness, nor are you burnt by scorching flames.
Eternally underwhelmed.
To catch a glimpse of reality itself you must carefully focus on your breathe.
Realise where you are presently as you feel the now slip into the past, recurring over and over and over, second by second, you revert back,
and for a fraction of a moment, you see everything in that chilling light
and your overwhelmed by how unexciting infinite space and disbeliveing of what it has landed you with.

and so you retreat back to your warm bulbble
where you are the centre of your own little grey universe.

Monday, September 7, 2009


Away from all the eys,
Paranoia gulps in a shaky breathe.
The clockwork in my mind winds down,
from a speedy whine to a jewelery box's soft twinkle.

Appearance and inhibitions disappear,
as I sink into the comfort of satisfied silence,
my kindest and most needed friend.
Silence, In where I'll never have to watch my back.
Never have to debate my time, or prove my character.
In the silence I can survive.
not oppressed to just a part of a big picture.
In the silence, I am alive.

Friday, September 4, 2009


You are my outlet of happiness,
my unashamed feeling of euphoria.
And time still wastes, yet, it's with you.
You. My guilty, shallow pleasure.

You are the filter of all my worries,
My constant visual reason.
And in y our presence, i frivolously link,
my fragile soul with yours.

And I would be completed,
If only, this were true,
and i was not sat here writing this,
Imaginary truth.

Monday, June 15, 2009

Oh Mystery

I run through the busy street, to follow your scent.
The one that fills me with a soft buzzing that weighs down my head.
Your oblivious nature leaves me in your peripheral, where I always stay.
Please wake up and realize, don't leave me this way.

But then I think about it and I think of all the times,
they turned around and left me searching for more signs.
and there was none even though their soul was left for me to search,
and i found nothing there for me to want to keep in touch.

Oh mystery, i almost want to keep,
you secretive so you can't disappoint me.
as everyone does, when i reach them through the crowd.
So mystery, please don't leave,
just don't turn around.

Monday, June 8, 2009

Reality creaps up on us

open doors, to lolipop floors.
spiked with sugar cane glass.
through liquorish light.
the darkest night,
rips to reveal the rotting mass.
i cannot see as i'm asleep,
away in candyfloss land.
bur reality keeps seeping into my cloud,
keeps seeping up through the sand.
it pops up into my fairytale beach,
and my sea turns crimson read.
and the waves crash down while im fast asleep
till reality has drowned me dead.

I'm not too sure what inspired me to write this poem, I can only interpret it as my own perception of false happiness, and the things we try to cover through are goals in life, like money or love, like the type of dreams and aspirations we use as a blanket to cover all our dirty secrets, and bitterness.
I feel like if we keep building on top of a rotting foundation of consciousness, and do not sort out those problems, like the type of infliction others have caused, or the infliction we have put upon others, then everything, the most intricate of problems we haven't resolved will come back to haunt us.

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Time Warp

Do you ever feel like your stuck in a time warp?

like, you ride it out, when everything seems to be happening for everything else, and your just waiting, but nothing ever changes? Like you can predict each little meander of fate, and your not surprised by the absolute emptyness that follows day after day..

Like, you just notice that it's all one big routine you follow throughout the day, striving to complete all the tasks, just to keep up with the next day that follows, the exact same way.

For me It's, get up, breakfast, school, home, eat, play guitar and go to sleep as early as possible.. i've just gotten so bored, the highlight of my life is sleep.
And I have no idea how to get out of it.

Sunday, May 3, 2009


I was numbed and couldn’t see, you crying beside me,
You fell and it seemed I didn’t care, your soul had lost its meaning.
He crept inside your fragile mind, I found you when it was too late.
Your heart on the floor, and your eyes looking like a scream
Your eyes glinting with fear as you walk down the hall
The echos of madness that once was is gone.
Yet, the madness gushes in..

And your numb… I couldn't see. It happened suddenly.
You were alone as I stood beside you.
I'm sorry that the things that happened have happened. 

Monday, March 30, 2009

all of a sudden

My tears run dry, My laugh turns mute.
I do not hate, i do not love.
I only sit. and sieve.

As days go by, i see the change,
though every day has gone the same.
faces don't protrude and skip my heartbeat,
Kind words sound through my hollow heart and fade.
Bad words sound through my hollow heart and fade.
I no longer jump at the sound of my name.
as if predicting each meander of fate.
All of a sudden, All of a sudden,
suddenly slips by to predictability.
And I'm numb.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

A figure of Time

As if a malfunction occurred and thoughts that should have been sorted,
enter into a sea of trailing threads which my mind has absently aborted.

You forget past days as they slip by like sewing slipping thread,
each stitch you sew imprints the present,
while the rest unravel and fade.
You try to rememver week old faces,
but they all fade into the grey.
Memories never meant to blur,
shift like shedding tears and fade.

Saturday, February 21, 2009

life resumes the second after

Its all a dream until the second after.
Its all in my head until its finished.
The imaginary screams that end the laughter.
I resume life the moment after.
A second after life, and then its over.
A life tangled up in clumsy dreams,
between the fake,between the real.

that's a poem i made up, because most of the time I'm just getting on with things. waiting for the next unknown.. but the next unknown is usually always known and predictable and usually the same thing i did the day before, except for the exception of the phrases id use.
Sometimes i just start feeling like im heading towards insanity. not being able to prevent the boredom and repetitiveness of my own future.. i know I'm a morbid bastard, but i'm just being honest...
its just the way my mind works.
one depressing thought after the next! I know that obviously I'm not going to progress in life with such a negative attitude but getting it down on paper makes everything a lot better.

were like clocks

Tick Tock, Tick Tock.
i wont be another clock.

leading up to the chime we stop.
i wont be another chime,
another scream from this clock of mine.
a chime of 6 billion clocks,
fading and renewing at the same time,
crying out to be rewound.
were all chiming till we eventually stop.
the wood we rely on decomposes as we tick,
it decomposes quicker if our clocks turn sick.
so whats the point in following time,
leading up, chime by chime.
why do we chime and tick and tock,
when in the end we chime to stop?

but im just another clock,
Tick Tock, Tick Tock.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

The Sky Will Boil

The Sky Will boil
Slide into the streams.
Thunder and rupture.
white searing screams.
The mountains will whip out the sound of my name
from furious fires they spit out in flame.
But I've sunken into the ground.
where no sounds follow.
away from all the pain of conditional happiness.

My view on depression

They say that depression is a chemical imbalance of the brain. but what if it was actually a chemical balance?
That the normal amount of endorphins in the brain is high enough to stop you from seeing the negative and actual aspects of what makes the world the mostly negative place it is today. When you have depression it feels as if its you who can see the truth behind the loop,
Kind of like in the matrix movie when everybody is living in a superficial reality where people seem to instinctively click into place like clockwork. Apart of instinct would be to get on with things, eat breakfast, go to work, finally get a break, back to work, then go home and sleep. not realizing the monotonous routine life has turned into, but instead, taking great satisfaction from that feeling they get at the end of the day for constantly moving around. not taking a second to think....
They all fit into that part of instinct so that you can get on with things.

Its when your doing everything like everyone else and there's an inkling at the back of your mind, like a loose thread, and the fabricated reality starts getting pulled and unfurls from underneath the surface of your mind, that makes you start to question.
and suddenly, it feels like you've been ripped out of the vacuum tight loop, and your in the world with everyone else but everything is different..
faces change from the way they wear there makeup to the vacant stare.. the human stare.
and everyone starts to look the same, talking to themselves in groups.
everyones talking to themselves within the loop, and no one but you seems to be out of it.

its sort of like the song "people are strange - the Doors"

People are strange when youre a stranger
Faces look ugly when youre alone
Women seem wicked when youre unwanted
Streets are uneven when youre down
When youre strange
Faces come out of the rain
When youre strange
No one remembers your name
People are strange when youre a stranger
Faces look ugly when youre alone