Trace amounts of exported emotions
Noone holds the line like you do
I fill in the empty sentances
Which convey all the meaning I never felt.
You stay just the same

I awoke from the dream
But the dream was me

Home, home
Is hanging out alone.
Handing out tickets
To the one man show.
Man, you should have seen it
I was in my element
Counting the seconds
In each creeping minute.

Cradles the phone like a baby
While conversation languishes on the floor
Silence beckons unpleasant thoughts
That drive him swiftly through the door.

To the far side of ordinary

She cups her hands
Under the strong man's finger
It's not the dying that hurts.
She smiles like a desert sunrise
Beautiful and scorching
Truth spells nothing more
Dizziness and suckerpunched
Truth echoes in silence
Stringing lines of ordinary
He passes the border
Into the unknown
Where the grass is greener

She told her mind that nobody knew
A cat hidden in a box for footsteps to pass

Unfolding blossom, creased beauty.
The callused palm of a working man
Held out.

The Smoking Man - Typings of the Mind


A salamander owns nothing
But the paper on his back

I was paused between breaths
Between the weight of paper on the page
Slid the sunrise to the sky
Sloping trees gild heavens
With heaviness of shadow.

I am forceps holding back the night
Peeling taste from food
She tastes foolishness and spits it out.
Yet I know nothing but silence
Screaming i my ears
We turned pages but the words fled from us.

I was reading some stuff I wrote 5 (shocking) years ago. And it seems better than my stuff these days. This makes me sad.

A half-opened pack of toothbrushes
Held close for a rainy day
While SpongeBob smiles inanely
To drive such thoughts away
Rickety books piled high
Knowledge reaching for the sky
I'll never read them but
They hold promises of wisdom
Shirts slumber on the bed
Discards of the morning
Discriminated, disused
But still holding to a form of
Beauty, clean lines, smart curves
A pod of dolphins breaking the confines
Of a sun drenched sea
And I am on a leather chair undecided
Big enough to hide a child in
A man staring at the future
And refusing to blink.

Layers upon layers like a chocolate cake
Sunlight filtered down like a fine coffee
You can taste the freshness if you dare
And brown yourself like a grizzly bear.
Toothpaste and mouthwash
Waves lick the sandy shore
And are remembered no more.

One day I'll wake up a trumpet
I'll play you a song
To may the daylight long
For the onrolling night

Madam the rock touches
Graces our fair city
Fairer by far, a searching
Eye. Nestled in clouds
Hungering of seas
Salience. As earth
Prosteletises the waves.

I ask myself " Who is this?
Who makes the flowers fair
Seem so drab I when compare.
Should I lace them through her hair,
Or would they just by hanging there
Seem to wilt, seem to tear
Beneath the blazing beauty?

Today was the first day in ages (3 weeks plus) where poetry has spontaneously popped into my head while doing something. It was starting to get lonely with just these thoughts in my head. I wrote it down somewhere I think...

The journey of a thousand miles

A single step
Such a simple thing
One foot forwards
One foot back
Shifting the earth
To make room for you

Susurrus, a crunching
The ground lapped up
Like cereal from a bowl
As tanned leather buttressed
In smooth polymer curves
Grips the protesting surface
And pulls reality.

Swish. Tarzan through the trees
Brachiation from gravel to gravel
The gentle swing, a pendulum
Metronome counting the beats
Music of movement
Driven home with the earthy percussion
Of landing.

The journey of a thousand miles
Is but a single step
Ad infinitum.

Free Rice

Searching for forgotten words
Some of which I've never heard
It seems that all I really knew
Was a smattering of the language

We sat, stoic cats, with our hands spread like mats on the carpet
You turned your head, and you said "I's so sad we're alone"
I was dumb, you're the one, like a tonne, a light shone down from heaven
But you turned, and I learned, that it burned like an earth-bound space stone.

When you are feeling too afraid to do something, remember this:

Only people from the Mediterranean can be Italicised
But anyone can be bold.

It struck me tonight

The essential irony

A shiny new trash can.