Tag: Poetry

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A Gathering of Serpents

I can feel my armour,
The weight is significant.

Bolted under flesh
Protective.
Impenetrable.
Invisible.

Hardening my outlook
Strengthening my resolve.

I am preparing for a battle
Of a different kind
Where I’m going
Serpents dwell.

Where venom is shared
With a smile
And a mouth full of lies.

I’m going behind
Enemy lines
And my weapons
Are ready.

Blades sharpened.
Artillery loaded.
Mind nuclear
And primed.

I know
What waits for me there.
I know
What wears the smile.
And I know
What hides
Behind the teeth.

Sleep will find me
Aggressive.
Obsessive.
Protective.

The nightmares
Will regret
Their attempts
To corrupt.

They will find
No easy entrance.
No exposed flesh.
No weakness
To crawl inside.

I’m going behind
Enemy lines
And my weapons
Are ready.

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Iron Maiden

Be gentle
With yourself.

Be kind
To yourself.

Treat yourself
How others
Should treat you.

I find these to be
Unattainable things.
Empty words.
Pie in the sky.
Clichés.

Even if true,
They bounce off.
Deflected by the armour
I have enclosed myself within.

This armour is
Cold,
Smooth,
And protective
On the outside.
Impenetrable.
Untouched.

But not inside.

Inside,
I am at the mercy
Of the spikes
And murderous blades
Of my own mind.

The armour
Keeps everything out.

But it keeps me
In.

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Return to the Garden of Imagination

Where have gone
my witty days,
Those days of whimsical imagination,
Full of warm creative thoughts,
Seeds of wonder,
Impossible things
Waiting to grow.

Why do I
find myself here,
Right now,
So tired
and bereft of joy?

What is the reason
That my imagined worlds
Aren’t bursting
with impossible ideas?

When can I return
to a time
When I feel
I am worth a little more
Than the way
I am treated?

Surprisingly,
I do know the answer.
And it’s okay.

It’s
because right now
My mind is healing,
Processing,
Restocking its shelves,
Making sure
things are okay.

After some time passes,
The other me
will return.

And he will share
his dreams,
His humour,
And his discoveries.

Writing and dreaming
About all the impossible things
We love.

Things that the current me
Cannot provide.
Not yet.

He will unlock
That gate again.
He will open it,
And I will walk through,
Into that garden.

Where the impossible grows,
Where strange ideas bloom,
Where dreams wander freely,
And imagination
Has no boundaries.

The garden is still there.
I just need
to find the key.

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On Falling Away

I feel cold.
Exhausted.
Frayed.

It feels like my mind is waiting
For something.
Momentous.
Unknown.
Life-changing.

As though
Some enormous event
Is approaching
And I am the only one
Who can feel it coming.

Death has been on my mind.
Perhaps not my own,

However,
He has been
Hanging around.
In dreams.
Flirting.
Making sweet conversation.

Whispering things
I cannot quite hear.

Hinting at secrets
He refuses to reveal.

I feel on the verge of tears
Or something,
Most days lately.

I mask it.
I try to cover it up.
But the feeling remains,
Like a splinter
Just under the surface.

Why do I feel
Like a time bomb
Silently ticking,
Waiting to detonate.

Life feels like it is
Too much right now.
I’m at the end of my tether.
Each day feels more complicated
than the one before.

However,
When I align all the facts
When write them down,
It shouldn’t feel
As enormous
As it does.

But right now,
It feels like I’m standing still
As the ground
Beneath my feet crumbles,
Falling away from me
Into complete nothingness.

My concern is,
I feel if I just let go,
If I gave in,
And I too crumble away,
Falling to dust and dark,

I would be
Ok with that.

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Lies of a Spring Morning

This spring morning,
This frost-covered,
Beginning to a new day.

The shining blue sky is a lie.
It cannot erase
What night left behind.

Nightmares are
Part of my fabric now,
Woven so deeply
I no longer know
Where they end
And I begin.

They leave me empty.
Drained.
Disconnected.

Like a lone ship
Riding tides of memory,
With nowhere to make port.

In daylight
I feel alien.

Set upon by strangers,
Surrounded by featureless faces,
Engaged in benign conversations,
Trading words
That mean nothing
And leave nothing behind.

I don’t belong here.
I don’t belong anywhere anymore.

But here
I must remain.
Mentally adrift.

My engagements are robotic now.
Change has brought disconnection.

The only place I still belong
Is in the worlds
I have created.

While outside my window
The world basks in spring sunshine,
Like a cold-blooded reptile
Absorbing the warmth.

Unaware of me.

Life goes on
Without me.

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Nova Centauri – Part IV: The Last Warden

The great doors were closed.
John knew it now.
Sealed.
Not forever.
But until another warden came.

He drifted toward the place where the entrance lay beyond the stone.
There was no seam.
No mechanism.
No handle.
No ancient control hidden within the walls.
The doors were never meant to open from this side.

They had opened once.
For him.
And that was all.
John turned back toward the chamber.

The creature moved somewhere below.
He could hear it.
Not breathing.
Not quite.
A deep vibration passed through the stone,
as though the asteroid itself had become its body.

Read the full story here
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Upward

Like an explosion
I rise at rapid speed
From the darkest
Depths of the ocean.

I break the surface
A missile in human form
Facing the heavens
Arms by my sides
My fists clenched
Glowing red like heated stones.

High above the sea
I’m seen leaving a contrail
In the darkening sky.

Clouds drop away
Below me
As my velocity increases.

A distant boom echoes
As I pierce a vapour cone
And break the sound barrier.

In an instant I flash across
The stratosphere
In the blink of an eye
I pass through the mesosphere
Soon after the thermosphere.

I finally begin to slow
As I exit the exosphere
Coming to a gradual stop
At the Kármán line.

It is here that I begin to drift slowly
Through the darkness of space.

Cooling
Silent
Untouchable
At peace.

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Beyond the Trees

Beyond the trees
Is the outside world.
Strange, bitter faces.
Forgotten names.
Melancholy memories.

Beyond the trees
Is where I have been,
And where I venture
Only when I need to.

There is safety here.
Clarity.
Comfort.
Confidence.

Beyond the trees
Lies heartbreak,
Loss,
Betrayal,
And the outside forces
That remain hidden
Until I cross the boundary.

Here, I can breathe.
Here, I can be still.
But eventually,
I must open the gate,
Step from the shelter,
And face what waits
Beyond the trees.

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Rats, Pigs and Greed

Rats in the ceiling.
Lungs keep wheezing.
Give us back that easy feeling.
Nothing going on here.
We’re rotting.
Decaying.
And no one’s saying,
“Hey man,
Here’s a way out.”

So we lie here fuming.
Self-consuming.
Body shaking.
Mind aching.
Staring at the roof,
Looking for some truth
About life
In an age of pigs and greed.

Tech’s got us losing our minds.
Trouble’s all we find.
The world’s too much.
We’ve all lost touch.
Stupidity.
No calm.
Thoughts gone nuclear,
And there’s no way
We can disarm.

So fuck this.
I’m out!

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Mind Spiralzzz

What are we doing?
We’re sitting,
Tripping,
Eyes twitching.
Mind twitching.
Imagination itching.

Anxiety booming.
Irritation looming.
Over-tired?
Over-stressed?
No time for sleep.
We’re all depressed.

Wake up.
Shake up.
Don’t forget to
Blow the fucking
State up.

Good night!

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