Have you seen the revolution?
did it quiver your repulsion?
sitting there in feigned rejection,
laughing at his resurrection.
Gone is word of insurrection,
take it now to your affection,
entertain his sweet deception
while he plays with his *******.

There is a forest old as hillsides
tall, majestic, dappled shades
fall on ground beneath the silent
gnarled defenders of the glade.

There they stand in ancient splendour
many souls have passed their way
often used as welcome shelter
from the heat of summers day.

Sweet the air they breathe in chorus
our life's breath their lungs provide,
soaking up our daily poison
so that we may live and thrive.

You seas of men intent to clear them
citing progress, peddling greed
tearing roots from precious mooring
laying waste to nature's seed.

**** the beauty of a landscape
displace creatures for your need
rupture fragile ecosystems
scar the earth and watch it bleed.

To you I ask a simple question,
as I see the land bereaved.
What need has man of all this progress
when he can no longer breathe?

The sun rises and with it the fight begins, kicks and blows rain hard as I catch my reflection and see the futility of my existence staring back at me. 

This is my war. 

There will be no peace talks with my adversary, she dwells inside, stubborn, unmoved by my suffering, mocking the medication meant to silence her being. 

She is glass shards. 

She is the shrapnel of my past, forever deeply embedded in my tired future. 

She is hatred of my very self. 

She claws at me with sweet suggestions, whispered screams of unending torment, temptation to cease being burns at her core as I am drawn blindly to her flame. 

There is no ceasefire, no peace in which to dwell, no escape from the constant hum of her displeasure. 

She is me, I am her.

Our silent battle as old as time.

I see her watch me through tear filled eyes, her hatred bristling at my smile as she sings of my flaws and tosses all hope to the ground to shatter irreparably.

She is mine. I am hers.

We dance in time to sympathetic looks and tired sighs as loved ones speak of self indulgence and stiff upper lips.

She will be, that I may not.

She will not be silenced.

~


How is it I think I find what’s real within your eyes
But from your mouth comes words comprised of endless counted lies
Falling at my feet just like a charm without a chain
Tarnishing the wisdom that shall never be the same
Whisperings of darkness slowly selling off the proof
Scribbles on a sidewalk as a chalk line alters truth
There upon a billboard with its message loud and clear
Written in graffiti is a clue that you are near
Still you fight the reason that our worlds have come to be
Hidden in the sentences your voice it sends to me
Tell me if you kindly will, what I have done to you
That brings about this wrath I feel has jumbled up the view
When all I really needed was directions to your heart
And now I see that hell is at the place you said to start
Once I did believe in every tear drop that you cried
Sitting on the cushion fighting off your fears inside
Now I wonder if your ears can hear this slamming door
Because my ears have heard enough, can’t listen anymore

A walk on the beach in the morning
is never a simple affair
once the dog is dressed and the kid's on the leash
we leave with the breeze in our hair.
We walk along the shoreline
and watch the changing tide
we clamber over rockpools
where creatures deftly hide.
I'm not a morning person
My brain remains asleep
for at least two hours after
my eyes begin to peep.
So I take in the horizon
with a deep and grateful sigh
while boy and dog go running
off to greet some passers by
the fishermen are chatting
showing them their daily catch
while the dog he begs for something
from the bucket, just a scrap
So the guy picks out a live one
and shows it to the pup
who jumps away quite quickly
treats forgotten, heckles up.
My son he takes a finger
and reaches out to feel
this shining, writhing creature
in a bucket made of steel.
He flinches as it flips it's tail
annoyed that he can't catch it
but it slithers through his tiny hands
and back into the bucket.
We turn our tails and head for home
and talk of what we've seen
the boy says in his grown up voice
lets not have fish for tea.

I hated leaving you there
while your skin is still transparent,
while your steady heart is shaking,
your lungs scarred from silent screaming
and your eyes haunted by the unseen.

You stood waving in the rain
hoping it would drown your tears
and disguise the effort behind your smile.
I drove away, platitudes delivered
and hope left behind to flourish in your care.
You stood waving in the rain and in that moment
your fragile beauty caught my spirit
and all was beyond me.
I hate goodbyes.

She walks alone, defiant
in clothes as black as night 
hiding her heart in shadows
never seeing light
she kicks at life and lovers past
and picks at healing scars
she'll talk to you in riddles
and hide behind her 'art'
she fears the darkest deeds within
her  blackened, broken heart. 

She has need of nobody
that's how she makes it seem
and only few will ever know
the glory of her dreams
but if she lets you come inside
she'll beg you not to stay
as love is never hers to keep
and every heart must stray

She'll push you to your limits
as you sink into her skin
her passion overflowing
with sweetest velvet sin
but when the game is over
she'll lay sated on your chest
then lock her heart away once more
at her haunted soul's behest.

Please don't call me Poet
I am but a sinking boat
these words they crash against my hull
and keep my heart afloat.
They stop me going under
for my soul cannot be saved
it's sleeps down deep with Davey Jones
beneath the churning waves.

Please don't call me Poet,
to that name I don't aspire,
I merely scribble words that rhyme
and sing of dark desire.
I whisper onto paper every truth my heart does hear,
my blood it taints the pages
you will find no beauty here.

Please don't call me Poet,
I am but cold and worn,
my jaded eyes are barren
and my fickle heart is torn.
My resolve she crumbles slowly, precious thoughts do not behave.
If you must call me poet
place a marker on my grave.