poetry

~ An Inner Nature

~ An Inner Nature ~

The wolves are howling in my mind
The lions are prowling this heart of mine
The eagles are nesting within my brain
Nurturing a life which has no name

Any attempt to claim it will be rejected
Any offers to buy it won’t be accepted
Any nets that are cast will be shaken free
Any spears will bounce off the bark of me

Because behind this soul which they try to pierce
There is a creature roaming wild and fierce
Behind this skin which they try to maim
There is a tiger which cannot be tamed

And no matter how much they cut me down
My roots still run below the ground
No matter how much they burn my leaves
My springs still see them return with ease

Because behind these eyes that lie wide and open
Are the wings of birds which cannot be broken
Within this blood that flows like the breeze
Is a spirit of joy which will never be seized

And no matter what they say and do
The light of my soul will still shine through
And any attempt to poach it will be met with rage
For a child of the wild does not belong in a cage.

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poetry

~ The Secret Stars ~

~ The Secret Stars ~

Always we talk of stars
as things far away
high up in the sky
the famous people in the movies
the millionaires in the mansions
something that cannot be reached

but sometimes there are stars close by
so close in fact that we can even touch them

sometimes there is a blazing brightness
in the eyes of the elderly man
fighting through another day
of silent loneliness

sometimes there is a fire burning
in the heart of the small child
rising up against the darkness
of a bully’s hatred

sometimes a light can be found
in the darkest cities
in the darkest bars
a drunk with a tale of magic

and sometimes, the brightest star
– you’d almost miss it
because it was nothing more
than a stranger on a train
looking at you and smiling
with no intention
other than reminding you
that this crazy world

isn’t so dark

after all.

 

poetry

~ Over The Fence ~

‘Over the Fence’

Wide-eyed and wild
I roam these haunted woods
living off the carcass
of my own
madness

this is me now:
nowhere left to fit into this farm
so out on the edges I linger
like a poisoned one of the cattle
away from the herd; over the fence
slowly dying – but then again
aren’t we all

may as well have fun
may as well feel good
may as well get lost and go insane
before the butchers and slaughterhouses

have their way with us

poetry

~ Post-College Rebellion ~

~ Post-College Rebellion ~

So I finally arrived but the businessmen say the journey has just begun;
twenty years of transitional education to be bottom facing the gun.
With a loss of direction I lament the system and nation;
for what use is this knowledge – without imagination?

And I got that post-college rebellion rushing through my veins,
spewing out my mouth and flowing down the drain.
I got that post-college rebellion bleeding from my eyes,
dripping onto newspapers as I read the daily lies.
I got that post-college rebellion weakening my knees,
got me hiking with a backpack in the mountains overseas;
post-college rebellion and I look up to the skies and plea:
is there more to life than this – is there something more for me?

‘cause I know there are forces out there that want to put me in a box,
to kneel down faithfully and kiss the finger of the man;
to place me into a cubicle where nobody ever knocks,
and dress up nicely – a component of society with a plan.

Yeah maybe one day I’ll be more conservative,
and chase the money and the power, and build a castle to live.
But now I gotta do the things that fan the flames of my desire,
the ones that kill this twitch inside and set my soul on fire.

That’s why I got post-college rebellion burning up my skin,
igniting my anxiety and turning my flesh thin.
I got that post-college rebellion choking me like dust,
got me spitting out the mediocrity of this decaying social rust.
I got that post-college rebellion wandering into the wild;
got me sleeping on the floor and playing like a child;
post-college rebellion and I look up to the stars and plea:

is there more to life than this – is there something more for me?

poetry

~ The Asylum ~

~ The Asylum ~

Hey kid. Good day!
Let me help you on your way.
There’s something I’m required to say,
before you check in for your stay.

First: welcome to the asylum,
where we will clothe you with illusion;
welcome to this madhouse,
where you are fed with pure delusion;
we will help you go insane,
just like your fathers and your mothers;
just follow these basic rules,
so you can go crazy with the others!

1) Get paid; get laid – produce more members of the state
2) Buy gear; live in fear – choose the politics of hate
3) Choose a religion; find division – no need for any proof
4) Wear a mask; lie if they ask – become the enemy of truth
5) Follow fashion; ignore your passion – conformity is the best
6) No variety; feel anxiety – avoid the judgement of the rest
7) Adore tomorrow; save and borrow – the future is the king
8) Don’t be content; get it spent – this present moment is sickening

Yeah welcome to the asylum,
within the walls of ego division;
make yourself right at home;
your cell comes with a television;
please remember it is forbidden,
to possess the nature of your self;
but make sure you have money,
for your bank balance is your health!

Phew; okay.
Now that’s cleared up, we can get you all checked in.
I think your cell is located just down here on the left.
You like the colour grey, right?
Oh yeah; just one last thing before I forget..

Smiley faces and celebrity worship!
As the rulers put you through your paces!
Smiley faces and abandoned dreams!
As your mind rots in office spaces!

Smiley faces and smog pollution!
As you’re chatting about the weather!
Smiley faces and no solution!
As you all go crazy together!

Forever! Together!
Forever! Together!

…..

Have fun, kid.

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poetry

~ A Hidden Wonderland ~

‘A Hidden Wonderland’

Somewhere deep inside your soul
there is an abandoned amusement park
waiting to be explored again

its entrance is taped off
its grounds sit shrouded in fog
but somewhere in there lies eternal bliss
the bliss the demons sweat in terror
at the thought of you finding

the rides await your screams of ecstasy
the candy floss awaits your taste-buds
the neon lights wait to shine bright
and the only admission cost
is that you are brave enough to venture in

in this life there is no tragedy greater than
allowing your inner joy to slowly decay
to allow the roller-coasters to rust in the rain
and let a heart creak hauntingly in the night

the reason this happens;
the reason your joy lies abandoned –
is because they made you forget
that you are the gatekeeper to your own wonderland
that the magic is found inside you, not outside

but if you would only remember who you really are
than the power will return within
the roller coasters will start up again
and the lights blaze bright once more

because somewhere deep inside your soul
there is an abandoned amusement park
waiting to come alive again

so go on in
through the mist
beyond the tape
and rediscover the joy
like a wide-eyed child
dazzled and delighted
curious and captivated
alive in the night once again

shining brighter and greater

than ever before.

hidden wonderland

poetry

~ The National Dance ~

~ The National Dance ~

Consume and be consumed; in a national dance of plastic bags.
Grab your paper and head to the high-street.
Flock together and shuffle your feet.
There’s windows to shop and prices to beat!

Sing.

“Fulfilment is but one shop away; one more purchase to make it to the next day!”

And sway.

“Follow the fashion everyday; and do the things that the billboards say!”

Spend and become spent; in a national dance of plastic bags.
Load up your credit cards and forget about the debt.
Sniff off the places where the bargains are kept .
Rave out your frenzy, it’s not closing time yet!

Sing.

“Fulfilment is but one shop away; one more purchase to make it to the next day!”

And sway.

“Follow the fashion everyday; and do the things that the billboards say!”

Dance. Dance. Dance.
Buy. Buy. Buy.

This is your vice; your army, your war
This is your dance; your song and your floor.

Dance. Dance. Dance.
Buy. Buy. Buy.

This is your stage; come sun or cold rain;
This is your movement; to shake out your pain.

Dance. Dance. Dance.
Buy. Buy. Buy.

And this is your tribe; your family of spend
This is your war dance; for every weekend.

Dance. Dance. Dance.
Buy. Buy. Buy.

Consume and be consumed.
Consume and be consumed.

Consume and be consumed.

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