In another dimension I was a bogus pedestrian
Lacking flesh
A mere idea at the whims of flow
From creative rivers seeking verdict, a memorandum
Anything to glean what it quenched to know
Uncategorized
Maps of hate
The underworld Twists and trawls
Tearing at the strands that thread our masks
A beast Writhing in the crowds amassed
Hatred prowls the tips of Tongues
And the grey man with a yellow grin
Gathers the squall
We bear witness, this shift of fate
Criscrossing new maps to the temple of infernos gate.
Sunday wordle: education, education, education in British school
The monotonous yellow hum of the lights held us sideways
Our bags all a rustle on our backs
Contorting us into hunchbacked old children
Our grandfather’s legacy in our faces
Ever mercurial, our expressions of piety
To the altar of education, education, education
As we tried to find the shadows of what we learnt
Within that yawning void of hums
Trains of thought sacrificed along with the gleams in our eyes
As we breathed ourselves closed
Speeding headlong till it burnt behind our eyes
Mercy was a talisman we tried to wear with pride
Like armbands
As we gazed upon the rumours of our futures, swimming the tide
And the scars of the place held us in contempt
Before any crime
A lonely place
I am a fiction, a mythical beast
I am all the word games we play
The white noise of the poltergeist
smeared against the teeth
of those who’ve taken from the feast
It’s a lonely place to be sliced and diced
by the mastication of someone else’s inner grin.
It’s like I said…
The dead eat the living
and come alive again
so wilt away
and fall as petals do
The abyss is only as deep as you dig
It’s like I said
The world will eat us and all our friends.
Sunday Wordle 4th May: Hobsons choice
In anothers eyes
Another’s eyes can consume you
Always, forever
your face emboldened behind them
and they can draw traces around you
drawing you into caricatures
telling themselves that’s what you really were
Neon night
An electric cluster fuck glowing red between lips
lungs become popcorn
in this electronic bliss of vapours
and blueberry smells
and the moon joins the glow
with it’s neon white noise
as the street lamps buzz
that monotonous hum
and the local takeaways spill out orange hues
that seem brighter than the sun
waves of traffic and bokeh lights
fill squinting eyes
we’re burning ourselves into photographs
caught in all these flashes of light
no stars to sight
not tonight, this neon night.
bittersweet
Bittersweet the aftermath
Now is inhospitable to our nostalgia
Tinted sephia in our minds eye
Tears trace the time we can’t have back
I was swallowed by the past
I’ve been no one since we fell off track
A wondering skeleton in the wreckage
Skin carved out in scars
A train wreck
Emptied of its corpse
No metamorphosis
Just a void
Where a boy used to be
silverbackgorillapoetry.com 