Tag Archives: Pain

Frankfurt 2: Hey Jude, Judas

The photo below was taken in Hauptwache, Frankfurt, click here if you’d like to see a few more from my trip. Or scroll down and read on

20170331_180147

I know nothing of falling in love.

That tripping up, or a bit of a jigsaw.

Maniacally exclaiming life reshaping.

I stumbled over desperation until my chest demanded rest for its people.

Now salty for a taste of freedom

I grieve with ten thousand reasons for why we’re here.

What’s real talk to convenience?

Stores of obedience host underground shows.

Soon there’ll be no difference between breathing and blows.

Avalanches will flow.

Demons with god intentions only ever change lanes

Truth is loyal and destructive, it devastates and remains.

Where the sun sets the moon gains.

We all want the light without pain

We all want to know the 4-2-5 yet Judas gets in the way.

What are you a discipline of?

What’s your price today?

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Filed under Relationships

4/ 30 A blues for Ruby

Mood Indigo
Book of blue notes turned encyclopaedia
A Glasgow kiss feels easier to bear
The pain of you not being here

Blue notes.
Melody sharper than citrus tipped arrows
I look to the sun and find you in the shadows
In your sleep, you remain hallowed

Some say I’m sentimental like a sudden burst of thirst for your first
Sometimes for the best, the worst comes to worst.
Can’t blame the doctors, won’t blame the nurse.
In the song of my life, you were a producer with a great featured verse.

My mood… indigo, yet finding new greens
Your principles were priceless.
Hope to see you in my rest
Reunited, under the supreme

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Filed under 30 day challenge, Random Poetics

Paper Thin Walls

paper thin walls
Paper thin walls
They keep mixing colours
Blending her out
On those paper thin walls
Paper can’t cover the cracks
On those paper thin walls
A doodle draws a whimper
The thought of making murals musters mournful murmurs from those paper thin walls

Passed around like a guest book at a funeral
The feeling fading as they drive away
The whitewash isn’t cleansing
A broken slate is never wiped clean
She is only 15
Miss Paper Thin Walls

Laying bricks, roofless
All her rocks are demons dancing in the sea of safety
Her will shredded like leaked script pages
She’s an over plucked daisy
On her knees she a dress maker seeking out hope like a lost sequin
Wondering where was God when man destroyed the self she’d believed in

Miss Paper Thin Walls pores over scattered bricks
From the many times her box has been ticked she’s an exam in herself
Exiled from affection, ignoring the laws of attraction.
Hands that reach her are fractured to heal her scars
When she’s fully built she may be chasing cars
For now…..she’s in thrall to the casket of cat calls
These travails are an ailment of which no ointment can heal
When she’s fully built she’ll bruise the serpent’s head and heal
She’ll no longer be Miss Paper Thin Walls

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Filed under Society

Ivory Blues

holding on

There are moments when you wonder
What’s going on with me?
When it seems that the world is moving in a direction and though movement and change don’t phase you, how you feel about it does.
Where your reflections become memories of happiness never created.
When the idea of building anew seems better than improving what you have.
Why have a tattoo when you can use biro and pencil.
When the music that once made you euphoric now stiffens you in purgatorial placidity.
If what is wrong with me, is me, what can I do?
Do my eyes fail?
Is the clearest figment of my vision that I’m shortsighted?
What would I throw away to gain?
Is this the me that got away or am I living to tell tales?
Is my colour of love beyond the pale?
If desire is a palindrome, do I really love my reflection on love?
If love is really selfless do I lose image to gain an identity?
Apprehensively, two halves don’t make a whole but there are holes in where it starts and ends with me.
If love is a learning contract that allows you to amend terms.
Why do many burn with many degrees?
If purpose, humility, desire are the PhD, is love lost if “I” is missing?
Isn’t love the ultimate hunter?
There are times when we respond I’d love to.
IS that selfless or selfish?
Can I love live among a barrel of shellfish?
If love is so strong, is it our resistance to it that leaves us dented?
There are times when your heart is crossing a bridge suspended between where you are and where you’re meant to be.
Every step you take pensively towards this unconditional until you’re un-conditioned
To be one conditioned is a choice that I struggle with.
That’s why I’m sharing me, with you.

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Filed under Relationships

Embrace

Embrace Life

Time is the oxygen we allow our bleeding to breathe in
So I embrace the pain of another to prepare them for healing
When cut to the core with energy re ceded
Fruits of laboured pain I eat in exchange for the favour of grace
And
Salvation from the sins of the past that maim the present
Derailing the tensions that prevail as the lessons that only seek to lessen
So knowing the power to impeach and set precedents needs more than rhetorical tenements delivered with eloquence
I say listen to the memories given reverence and residence in your edifice
Evict your fear of change like a rent dodging resident, without sentiment
Embrace hope like a new pregnancy in spite of miscarrying triplets
You can only drink what you allow to flow through your inlet
(And) If not filtered you falter, your gaze on destiny alters
Until you’re feeling forced to drive on the wheels of misfortune
Floundering in the forest of the forlon, war torn by the dim light

(Yet) my in sight drinks from glasses doubled in clarity.
So every head shot is a meteoric light telling dystopia not to marry me
Utopia is a pharisee until we conclude lamentations
Hesitation is not self preservation until But They, is deleted from our recitation
For convenient flagellation conceals contamination
Some who say time is a healer refuse to watch what they’re saying
With the mind they’re paying, as games they’re playing
Life’s not a lottery. it’s just a wall for painting
Pain may be your undercoat so decorate with your celebration
The why and how wont add up so detonate your decimation
Replace your But They’s with For I,
Forgiveness, for love, for health for strength
I embrace pain like a bad disciple.
Betraying it with the priceless knowledge that it is no love rival.
To be made wise with experience means pain is a chapter in your bible
That many misinterpret and create a religion like disaster was their idol
You’re a lamb to the slaughter if you buy bull
Death precedents canot give life to your revival
Stealing time to cry is not a crime if you value freedom through peace of mind at all.
So open your chamber of secrets and empty your back full of knives
Knowing your scars are part of the painting
Don’t dam the flow claiming your assets will be liquidated
I say embrace pain like a trigger and squeeze it until the ammunition is asphixiated
From soul to soul I hope to mitigate your evanesence
Embracing your pain and killing it, to make you great through resurrection
See the politics of living dictate survival’s a general election
Some histories we repeat because we wont scatch the record

We’d rather dance to our beatings till we’re prey without ceasing
Ignoring the truth that our spirits fruits bare in season
I call it a faith crime when we pray without seizing
When taking chances to count our blessings, to the creator is pleasing
You can only claim the blessing of an heir if you’re breathing
Need feeding? Believe him!
Life words like seeds from the other trees in Eden,
Will you not eat them or will you ask… What would heathens do?
A question rarely tended, if ever thought of.
We drink the lies of many authors like they were last orders.
Picturing Jesus drowning his sorrows with a glass full of water
Instead of walking through the tempest like Kate’s pen game was his daughter
Ignoring the needs of our heart, doing what folk think we ought to
Being heady and high minded will not make you highly thought of.
Your embrace of pain can turn a sniper to sawn off
So make a decision before you tell me your story
If it’s gory to gory and you’re the bullet of this one shot
Do you know your tools can enrich the plot
Your intimacy can harvest the better ending
So are you a gardener preparing for new seasons
Or are you just pre tending
With your embrace

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Filed under Just Living

I’m Waiting

Some days …
I get sick of waiting
Staring at my calendar
Though I’ve given up dating
Like 30 days hath September
Waiting for the one
Is there really no end to?

Praying and leaving it
Believing that
God works in mysterious ways
This mere heathen asks
Can’t one of them be simple
Holding tight my little faith
Feels like I’m ever squeezing a pimple
That’s never ready to burst
Waiting feels so blessed and cursed

Saving myself for the best
I’ve seen the worst
Trying to kill old bad habits
Some need to be re-hearsed
running out of tales to re-verse
Memories to be burned
Time is money
I’m scraping a deep purse
Saving is burning a hole in my wallet
This is arson I’ve got it
I’m just an insurance scam
The nice guy burnt down
For women to claiim their right man
I am
Left selfishly freely
I feel greedy
For the fact I’m not needy
I got me so I don’t need me

Planting new connections
Call me seedy
I write so you can read me
The riot act to be me
The water of reflection
I splash so you can sea me

On the sidelines
For my who will be my by line
The lashes for my I line
To blink could be a sky fire
We’ll collide but why’do I I
Touch up on the nest egg
To forget that you even exist
cos maybe
When I commit to
Waiting
We’ll live

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Filed under Just Living, Relationships

Goodness, Gracious, Me

As clocks tick,
boxes dip
Another click
A buttoned lip
Eyes shut
The solemn drips
Loosening grip
A name that slips
Away
They
All want us to kneel
Accentuate real
To hurt and to heal
To birth and to feel
Their pain
Again?
They want to us to feel
Their pain again
They want to us to feel
Their pain again
Where is outrage
They want the grief front page
Publicity umbrage
They’ve got it so flaunting
Dead sons aunts and.daughters
Yet I’m getting bored of
This game
They want to us to feel
Their pain
They want to us to feel
Their pain again
How can this be real
When told what to feel
Not sold on the deal
For real
like being force fed a cake
That I didn’t bake
They wants jaws to ache
Whole souls to be raked
Yet my soul is being raped
By choices I didn’t make
How many addicts do you need!
For your sympathies
I’ve no blood left to bleed
Or place for my feet
With that left for me
I barely can be
So please comprehend
I cannot pretend
That I truly stand
With all and hold hands
As
Grief stans for yours
My release could be raw
Yet I know for sure
You’ll be exhausted to Stan
All mine

 

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Filed under Just Living