Flicker

one ticker

blue flicker

one ticker

flicker blue ticker one ticker

feel sad too bad

too bad feel sad too bad too bad bad too sad

some pain

no gain

some gain pain no pain no gain

pain sad sad ticker flicker bad bad too sad too sad flicker blue flicker blue ticker ticker flicker blue ticker flicker flicker ticker flicker flicker bad sad gain pain..and smile.

Powem Prizons.

It's been a while since i've published anything lyrical...so time tells and clocks turn to twelve better post some shit.

Half Empty- New song

Now that you’re older

I don’t need to lie anymore

Cos the truth isn’t innocent at your door

It’s a sad song

To tell you you’re alone

But the future’s all be sewn in cold stone

Maybe I don’t care, I don’t care anymore

But it’s too late for that, but it’s too late for that

Maybe I don’t see, I don’t see any more

There are too many truths weighing down in fact.

Your eyes are crimson

And your blood is burning at the bones

Let the hair grow long and thin

All the pale skin

And sinking heart

You’re oldest friend will know how it feels

Maybe I don’t care, I don’t care anymore

But it’s too late for that, but it’s too late for that

Maybe I don’t see, I don’t see any more

There are too many truths weighing down in fact.

Back to Blogger

I'm Back to Blogger.

I'm to basics with a new layout.

Yeah when you're a technophobe simplicity is the key (kii).

Dear A

Dear Anger

I’m in a turrets like mood were fuck is the only word to describe it

I’d like to slam my head in a fucking door but even apathy is being a twat

When your hairs stand on end it means you’re cold.

I am cold.

I want to thaw and be cold.

And when I am cold I will regret it like so many other things that influence the abstract in my brain. Knowing isn’t believing

Simply... I don’t believe and I wish I didn’t know.

Full stop.

Continue.

War.

I am burning flowers.

I am burning beautiful.

Without direction and without cause I criticise my own frustration.

I want to shout.

I want to rupture my lungs.

But I don’t want anyone to hear me.

I just want to curse in my own echo.

But why don’t you understand?

My moments of silence are drowned in noise.

Signed your sincere friend.

the ink from my pen ran out

out it ran dribbling like a drunken tonk

trying to be elusive

it spread like a contagion in the white of a

blank page

it was obvious

the ink had a genome

it could dance in time

and reap the crop of words

but such copulation leads to the

breaking of the page

I'll chuck it in the bin?

there's a daring spin

put that in your pen and write it.

smite it.

disguise it.

burn it.

no blank page.

need some sage.

I got Bored

I got Bored

so I became famous for 15mins

I got Bored

so I punched the moon with a flag

I got Bored

so I went to war for oil

I got Bored

so I made a nuclear bomb

I got Bored

but there was nothing left to do....

I want to be in the Anthology.

I want to be in the anthology

Because words are nice and to rhyme in verse

And curse at hate.

Emotions that can speak as echoes echoes echoes...

Often my words don’t dance, they are broken

They stumble and mumble prose

What-used-to-be-cool-90’s-lingo

I am colour blind with words

Blue is grey

Orange is purple

And green doesn’t exist so often my images are obscured

As for sibilance I reject such sounds.

And onamatopia is a word I can never spell

So I SLASH pen to paper

SLASH pen to paper.

I’m not good with endings either.

general musing.