Silence. Repetition. Rhythm.

We speak not of silence
for it isn't there.








We speak not of silence
for it isn't there.








Silence fills what isn't there.
When there is absent
silence falls.








Silence does not exist.
Silence is 
what there is not.








Leave us there with silence
and don't be there at all.








Do not be quiet 
but be silent.








But to be silent.








Silence falls
and still there is here.






Silence falls
and we quietly wonder the nature of silence.

I'd rather have not loved at all.

Murder Ballad

I killed her
I did
Left for dead in the heat
I think
Well I gave her some water
and left some bread
it wouldn't be nice
to starve to death
but she had to go
she couldn't stay
she'll rue the time
she crossed my way
so in the desert she'll meet her doom
never again
will she darken a room
with just Mrs. tick
and of course Mr. tock
insanity should get her
cause I left her sunblock
and I drove around looking
for some trees or some shade
cause sun burn is nasty
left to swelter all day
and I hope the sands soft
so she can sleep
and my jumpers warm
when the night loses heat
but oh boy she'll be gettin' it
don't you worry
when those batteries run low
then she'll be sorry
cause I left her a radio
to fight off the bore
but I threw away the dial
at gold 104
so take that little darlin'
all alone
with only the face of yours truly
leaving you by that pay phone
driving off in the dust
no mercy from me
you don't treat me like that
and expect curtsey
Cause I'm the devil in a suit
and I've got you nicked
sadists tell tales
of the lasses I've picked
and when the coppers come askin'
I'll show em yer bones
or the footprints you've made
makin' your way back home
cause you're really not far
that'd just be cruel
but it's definitely inconvenient
being left like a fool
Now I'll go by the bar
and have a stiff drink
just to prove I don't care
what the fuck you think
and then I'll go home
and probably be hungry
but you always seemed to know
just what to make me
and the beds cold at night
when you come home late
and I love waking up
and seeing your face
and the talks with you
last longer then with others
and I can't help but smile
knowing we're lovers
but you can stay out there
for the time being
cause I'm a lone ranger
continuously fleein'
but before I go
I'll open some wine
with any luck
you'll be back by nine.

Pills with an Alternative Motive

Take these,
I'll give you a repeat
Now they'll knock you around so here's a medical certificate
for a week
Make sure you keep taking them
don't you stop
They'll fix that flu up
You'll feel tops

They're quite big aren't they?
I know the drill
But I've never taken anything
as big as these pills

First comes health
hey I'm doing fine
I'll be back earning some dough
in no time
Then comes the malady
I'm spluttering my lungs
that green gunk coming out
has got me well strung

But hey just you wait
I said they'd give you a jolt
keep takin' this medicine
try not to bolt
it's all part of the process
we've got it covered
if you wanna get better
you gotta have suffered

Well OK doc
you know what to do
I'll be a good girl
and follow your cue

The headaches start
and each day they get worse
taking more pills
preventing symptoms from the first
Feeling drowsy all the time
but unable to sleep
is like wanting to run
without having feet
There's a cloud in my head
Nothing seems strait
Bad dreams make my days
not very great

I'll just keep taken them
I'm just feelin' down
from all this sickness
hangin' around
Being motivationally depraved
ain't too smooth
the TV stays on
when I'm not in the mood

Now comes the paranoia
I don't wanna go out
Nobody likes me
They're ignoring my shouts
Breaking into tears
when dishes don't soak
and getting intense bouts of range
when  people get close
Shouting at everyone
crying for no reason
Getting frustrated
at the weather and seasons

This isn't me!
Though it feels like it is
I wasn't so like this
before these pills of his
That's it
I can't take it
I've had enough of this tension
if I wanna get better
I'll go without medication
I don't need something so strong
to make me feel right
my head'll feel good
getting off of this tripe

As soon as i made
that final decision
the world smelled a little sweeter
and my mind strayed from incisions
And now that I've been
on those meds for a week
I might at last try
for a healthy nights sleep.

Break

Cigarettes, lapped up by dying wood.
The stale scent wafting through the damp breeze,
like a fine perfume or an aged brandy
matured to a woody feast for those starved of aroma.
The wood so old the nostrils can almost sniff the splinters piercing though soft peels of flesh.
And still the years of absorbed ash add a fine finish for the kind that seek surroundings of scunge.

The stick of doubt.
Like the sweat between full thighs in the dampest of heats.

A Muddling Predicament

My head is a mixture

A muddle of things

I don't know why

Or where to begin

Where does the dark go

Once you've flicked out the light?

I can't see a conclusion

This eternal plight

Please, I don't know

No rhyme or reason

Doubt let me go

I've committed no treason

Such confusion

What does one do?

No one to ask

They're all done for too

Please take me home

Back in my shell

Nostalgic warmth

Far from this hell

Through isolation

Responsibility

Oh that reason

How I loathe thee

Stop it. Stop pushing me

Cease and desist

Reality

An awkward augmented mist

Oh fuck

Now I have rhymes trapped in my head

Like I didn't have enough to fret on instead.

There's a Pigeon at Essendon Station

There's a pigeon at Essendon station
and it sits at the entrance of the tunnel

There's a pigeon at Essendon station
and it sits as though it were rubble

It sits in the middle
in the way of all things
but when I get off my bus
it flutters its wings

There's a pigeon at Essendon station
and it sits there waiting for me

There's a pigeon at Essendon station
and it will never let me be

When I come around the corner
it jumps up in the air
I wait for it to leave
but it simply hovers there

There's a pigeon at Essendon station
and it's always in my way

There's a pigeon at Essendon station
and I think it wants me to stay

It doesn't seem to know
what it ever wants to do
I think it had a home
but got lost on its way through

There's a pigeon at Essendon station
and it always seems confused

There's a pigeon at Essendon station
and it looks a little abused

I try to watch it flutter
in its aimless little flight
but it flies into my face
and it gives me quite a fright

There's a pigeon at Essendon station
and I wish it were my friend

There's a pigeon at Essendon station
and I think it's reaching its end

I hope that one day soon
it'll figure out its plans
maybe have a chick or two
and live a life that's grand

There's a pigeon at Essendon station
and it sits at the entrance of the tunnel

There's a pigeon at Essendon station
and I hope it never gets in any trouble.

Just like it for what it is, not for what it should be.

A different body A lesser mind

I ain't your whore no more.

You.

Unique moments
special memories
which you can reuse
share
and disperse among your chosen ones
which grow
like pools of liquid
expanding outwards
until
there is nothing left
at the place of the accident.

Delude

And bravest of all
are those who can realize
that they're just not really
all that good.

Following Narcissus

I don't understand this game of lies.

This narcissism of talentless youth.

Pressing in.

When did we all get so lonely?

That the briefest wiff of gratification can make us quiver with pride.

Children but half a score ago

With the want of more, feuling our angst

seeping from the gloss of wisdom

I simply ask for truth

To deny the contentment of ignorance

for the bliss of knowledge

Such a thick smog of excitement

careless youth

and nervous eyes.

And then once we've figured it all out

Balanced the equations

Removed the variables

Pursued it logically and without bias

There is no one left to love.

Stop digging me,

it hurts

The Concept of Time

The station. The changing place. That land of in between. Where we come to switch and trade

and wait.

Wandering listlessly through a world where time is felt far more intensely than it ever should and we, the enemies of time, are pressed against the clock-face and made

to wait.

Each passing second another reminder of our unavoidable torment. Passing through like cattle, herded by patronizing voices heard through jarring wires, violating our decided loneliness, shattering our insides. Repeating until we can stand no more, ceasing a moment only to allow the next Shepard to remind us of their own incompetence. All the while splitting the skulls of the damned that are made

to wait.

Those Days

Slipping soundlessly

Entrenched

Doomed by predetermined moods

Complaisant by means that only the stillness of quiet can allow

Lightly jolted by the caresses of conveyance

Thoughts of silence ebbing throughout dulled lobes

Scenes of sedation

A disallowance of shared experience

Dark stains deepening

Spilt by light

Fermenting through age

To a hazy dim

Incandescent washes

leaving sweeping fragrances of warmth

Through softly chilled dew

Lids collapsing

Strained by consciousness

We Listen

Between two coils

Heads entrapped by beats of the past

tangled by the ropes of our freedom

Hoping, in vain

that their static

delivers them some wisdom

beyond their measured years

Squeezing glasses of time

which can only leak

Drowning days

with the cryptic messages

of somebody else's expression

Listening to questions

in search of answers

whilst the future turns to memories

and we are left

with nothing of our youth.

Poetry of the Depraved (of something)

Full of wine

(of course the cheap kind)

and the idea of romance looming this time

feeling as though her thoughts were a crime

(this, of course, was all in her mind)

She sat,

with her head elsewhere

that distant place

with that lovely warm air

where she can forget that she needs to remember to care.

Not seeming to run

but never around

flitting and flailing against the bounds

don't get her wrong

there aren't any hounds

but where she needs quiet

she gets only sounds

Intimacy,

it is that which she searches

but when things stand still

she twists and she lurches.

And so she moves on

always in motion

if only she could get her hands on some potion

something that could make her feel

something she didn't have to pretend that was real

She goes back

in her head

keeping reality at bay

and each time she gets even longer to stay

She has conversations

that can last for hours

with ghosts

with regulars

she spends years having showers

She creates alternate worlds

and forgets what took place

deep within her conscious

she finds solace in space

And so there she goes

deeper and deeper

and the wine always getting

cheaper and cheaper

But alas,

this tale has no means to its ends

it continues on

with twists and bends

searching for the self

and failing thus far

but managing,

somehow,

to get back to the bar.

No Place Like Home

Never belonging.

Forever flitting.

Nothing

I hate death.

I hate how it leaves things behind

Alone

And cold

And hollow.

How everything is unfinished

Those books they never read

Those sights they never see

That skin they'll never touch

And all the suffering they leave behind

A life time of collectibles

Sentimental objects

Favorite shirts

Special trinkets

Useless

Without cause or meaning

The potential and dreams of a lifetime

Vanished

And the connections

And love of the living

All that joy

And happiness

Flashing to memories

Which taunt

Bully

Haunt

What can we do when our world rests upon a single entity?

An entity that is mortal

Delicate

And although may appear as unchanging as sand

and as certain as a maggot feeds from rotten flesh

That maggot still needs flesh to feed from

At your expense

And they will come for your world of joy

And leave you with nothing but the past

And old books you can do nothing with

But stain with tears

Then they will wait for you to rot

Until you are but a memory

Without love

Without thought

Without consciousness

Just nothing

Ever again

10/12/2009

Turmoil

Oblivion

Seeping the walls

People but strangers passing

Once friends, now I cannot stand

their company.

Empty and isolated among companions

For love is a curse

And I scorn the day I ever felt its cruel caress

It steals life

Taking from me any contentment

I had obtained

Had fought to obtain

I was happy

Now food is joyless

Simple pleasures, pointless

And everything else stings.

I refuse to be caught by its tantalizing touch

It's unreliquishing urges

Hollow hurts

It doesn't suit me.

I prefer to never feel its burn

then have one moment of its temporary shallow ecstasy.

If it exists,

It can find me

As I will not make any move towards it

again.

Locking myself away and waiting

Rather than ruin my essence

Tainting my joy

and leaving me blind.

Unsettled

So much baggage.

No storage area.

Dreams that don't leave you

Falling,
Slowly.
The simple act of reasoning ever, just so slightly, beyond capability.
A black-blue landscape stretches though the surrealism, painterly, yet the wind whips, brushing her face ever so gently she can almost clutch it, like a velvet robe. It's the kind of breeze you only get during a hot summer night but it doesn't feel like it does when you're there, it feels the way the memory of it feels, comforting. But she knows it's icy cold and lashes at the dead branches jutting out, stretching with the landscape, reaching over the rocks.
Looking down over the ledge, the water swirls, a navy blue-grey floor.
She doesn't take risks.
What's it like? To fall that far? The rush, simply glancing down to the substance below turns something inside her.
So far... But not really that far. Surely. But it would be so easy, just let go, that's all it takes to try it. To just let go and feel something, for a change. Just a change.
She drops, the curiosity too great to sustain rationality.
Wind, still warm and comforting, still ripping at her as she drops. But she can't let go and half way down she clutches for dear life for the hollow sticks reaching out from the brown stone. And then simply hangs in fear of the drop she has to take only to realize that once she finally fights against her cowardliness, her complete discontent and removal of all she knows, she is but a few feet away from the chill of the sea liquid.
Falling into the thick water she begins to swim, towards a triangle. Because she can.

Sea Vibes

Energized
Your spirit vibrates
From the energy of that buzz
Suffocating the air
That warm air.

You have no resistance
You wouldn't want to
Every fiber wishing you to run
Just run
Now.

The grains burn
It stings
It toasts
It jolts
You love it.

That first toe
Tentatively testing
The ice
Such warm air
Such shocking water
Two extremes meeting
Competing
For your attentions.

Fuck it.

You plunge in
The only way you can
Gasping for air
You arise
The air not so warm
The water not so chilling
A fat guy in a speedo glances your way
Your moonlit skin
Giving everything away
What of it?

Mountains of liquid pummel you
You roll
You tumble
You drink salt
You spit it out.

You come in
Grains gripping
Droplets dripping
Eyes stinging
You feel...

uncomfortable.

Warm air breezes over
Intense rays
Bouncing off moon stained skin
Earnt from months of wallowing
Coffee
And blaring screens

But this
This is what it's all about
Fingers melting through hot gold
Grains

in your mouth
Your eyes
Your food
You eat it
You breathe it
You sleep in it
Dozing off to high pitched screams
Of laughter.

The drive back
Long but easy
Breezy
Everything will change
Energized and alive
You drive with nothing but a head filled
With best intentions
Sunny days
A minimalist diet
And jogging sessions

Home

One last piece of chocolate
Coffee
The screen tantalizing
Blaring
Just for you
It's so much easier to fall
Then climb

So you jump.