poetry

~ In Too Deep ~

~ In Too Deep ~

I walk this urban jungle
and I see people so lost
wandering through life
desperate and depraved
clinging onto lottery tickets
and shopping bags
and briefcases
and beer bottles
looking for the way out

I see people so lost
stuck in a movie they never asked to star in
working for causes they don’t believe in
trapped in lives they never imagined
a life where the tramp and the lawyer
wear the same frown

I see souls starving and dying
behind counters
behind desks
behind smartphones
behind steering wheels
mothers, fathers,
teachers
bus drivers

people so lost
in too deep 
drowning in traffic jams
while turning the radio louder
and louder
to escape the reality

that kills us all

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poetry

~ Stay Wild ~

~ Stay Wild ~

Dear child, I write you from afar
and ask only one thing for you to take into consideration for your one precious life.

Through the toils of the years, and the battles of society – I ask you to stay wild.
Consider this for you were forged in the stars, and assembled in the wilderness;
and – though illusion may pervade – nature will always remain your only real home.

Shake loose the shackles of the poachers whenever their locks tighten so.
Fight off the tyrants whenever they go near what must not be touched.
Spit out the decaying taste of the plastic soul’s dust.
Never wander too far into corporate falseness.
Stay wild – in mind, body, heart and soul.

Whenever you can, get back to your nature;
live out on the fringes, and exist on the edges,
among the wild eyes and undomesticated souls,
for that is where the magic happens.

Entertain new developments;
playfully dance with new philosophies;
and toy with new technologies
but never forget to come back,
into the trees; to the depths of the waters.
and the murkiness of the unknown.

For that is where you truly belong:
deep between the roots of the forest;
in the expansive emptiness of the clouds;
and the timeless universe of the ocean.

Where the magic happens

in the wild.

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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

~ Reckless Rebellion ~

~ Reckless Rebellion ~

“You’re reckless rebellion
I see it in your eyes
I slip through your retina
and I watch the flames rise
because you don’t move like they do
you don’t dance the same grooves
you look up when they look down
you sing soul when they sing blues
not everyone may notice
but its visible to me
the wistful look in your eye
is burning anarchy.”
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poetry

~ Bum ~

~ Bum ~

“When your eyes hit me, I am transported,
out to foreign lands, to which I’m deported;
where I trek cross-country toward the coastline,
and hitch-hike down the highways of your mind;
where I wander through wilderness with no goal,
and sleep rough in the shipyards of your soul.
And each day when I watch the setting of sun,
I don’t care where I’m going, or where I came from;
‘cause when you look at me, I become the gypsy one,
happily lost in your world, like a drifting bum.”

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poetry

~ Days of Glory ~

~ Days of Glory ~

“The days when you are most alive are
when the demons are at your heel,
when madness becomes your vehicle,
when the gods sit on the edge of their seat.

The days when you are most alive are
when comfort and security are out of sight,
when the fear falls away into the dirt,
and the heavens linger on the horizon

The days when you are most alive are
when the script is torn into pieces,
when routine is eaten by chaos,
when normality malfunctions and
your soul is set bright ablaze.

The days when you are most alive are
the days that you will remember
the days that scold themselves into your heart
that burn forever behind your eyes
that haunt the hallways of your mind

they are the days of struggle and salvation
the days of risk and glory
the days that leave you smiling
as you sit content in old age
remembering how amazing it was
to have lived a life

worth dying for.”