‘I am dead,’ Said Fred
‘I’ve got worms inside my head
slithering through the aftermath of my death
I am carnage
I am meat on bones
eat me, eat me!
Bring on the crows!’
I said
‘You’re not dead, Fred
and the worms in your head
are just thoughts you couldn’t catch
turned to fog before you could grasp
I’ll call the doctor
he’ll bring you back.’
‘I am dead,’ Said Fred
If you call a doctor
call Dr Crow
say, ‘Dr Crow, Fred is dead’
And she’ll know
how to return me
And son, I’ll be seeing you
from a birds eye view
NaPoWriMo: Drunk. Pulp. Piss
Tv screens and radio
magazines and stereos
all these thoughts
pulverised in our minds
whole little worlds
behind our eyes
some of us becoming pulp
dazed and confused
I can’t organise all this shit in my brain
how on earth do we get off of this fucking train?
I need a warehouse
to store all these fucked up thoughts and feelings
Cuz I’m apt to start screaming
don’t hold us close
when we’re all going away anyway
I can’t take another goodbye
so don’t say
don’t stay
All these lights lock my brain
always wired
the humming in my brain
the smell of piss on the streets
cuz everyone forgets their heads
drunk to forget
NaPoWriMo: The dysphoria of twos
I’ve got some new boots
what does that mean for my other pair
it doesn’t seem fair
can both exist at the same time
or does one erase the other?
If I close my eyes does one pair stay
and the other disappear?
what if I wore odd boots, one from each pair?
will I look a mug, when I got out there?
if I keep them both in my sight
they’ll both exist and that will be okay, right?
unless one is my Monday pair
and the other is my Tuesday pair?
But does that mean I need to buy another fucking pair?
And then another, then another?
One for each day, so that none are left behind?
What a fucking bind!
I’ll keep the one pair, if you don’t mind.
NaPoWriMo: Smile, no frown
Hello fellow weirdos
I tried to be a storage of calm
but it seems I’m too wired for that
so you’ll have to take me as I am
restlessly still
my face don’t always translate what I feel
Perhaps the storm doesn’t cross my face
or maybe it does
I never know what expression it pulls
I tried pulling strings through my lips
so I could control them like puppets
‘Smile, no frown’
I tried to sew puppet string to my eyes
to express my confusion or lack thereof
NaPWriMo 3: Pulp in our heads
All these things an accumulation
of things consumed
like fat in the arteries
or the cultural zeitgeist in the head
blended and pulverised
manufacturing pulp fiction
til the gun is loaded against our own skull
an audible gulp
before the flash and bang
empties our full
NaPoWriMo 2: Ironed socks
I do not wear the elegance
to be part of your magnificence
I’m all feathers ruffled
and you’re all, ‘Let’s not cause a kerfuffle’ smart
I wear odd socks
because I don’t really care
you iron yours
which I think is very rare
NaPoWriMo poetry 1: Hoping no one will notice.
Inspired by this ‘“To be a Flower, is profound / Responsibility –’
I tried to be a wallflower
but I couldn’t take the responsibility
an ecological niche
I couldn’t bloom to fit it
instead, I clung to the nail
creeping ever downward
a weed straggling lifeward
hoping no one will notice
The dying field mouse
A dying field mouse was the catalyst
For the tears turning to diamonds
Under the pressure of unrelease
An apologetic surrendering
To my failure to be a hero
My humanity drifting me apart
A wedge between me and my kind
A bridge I can’t cross
To look you in the eyes
And become a part of the rat race
I despise
That mouses black beady eyes
The abyss I looked into
Forever looking back
I am sorry little mouse
I couldn’t bring you peace
in your darkest hours
as you bid your long arduous goodbye.
All I see is death
Is there anywhere I can be someone else
I’m tired of being wrapped up
in myself
but I’ve seen out there
and seen the earth laid bare
it’s too much for me
all I see is death
looking back at me
mirroring my decisions and indecisions
falling into the abyss
of those eye sockets
A deleterious soul
You are a deleterious soul
pushing the buttons of all who dare tread
within pushing distance
of your daily insistence
that you must erase their existence
or else suffer the consequence
of your wrath
dare they breathe upon the same air
dare they leave or come back
on the whims of their own time
silverbackgorillapoetry.com 