I want to be the silence
That accelerates the breaks
A thunder storm of shock
Rolling across your face
To communicate the ferocity of this pain
I could never abbreviate this self hate
Encapsulate it for you to contemplate
I want to be the knife
That cuts through the silence
Before you call in the sirens
Remember I tried to be an island
Battling these tyrants
Running amok in my head
The asylum
I tried to be defiant
But I never could imagine
Sisyphus smiling.
© May 2016
Let’s pretend we’re strangers
we know no names
no restraint
apart from the way
my hands grip your wrists
we’ve never met
we’re just passing through
and fucking
on a whim
The ice cream truck plays it’s happily haunted tune as it passes, and when the dust has settled from its disturbance the street exhales a solemn sigh.
Slowing down
taking everything with ease
its all what it is
as free as the breeze….
fuuuuuckkkk
the stresses have got so that
i can’t tell what stresses they are
no words I can attach to them
they’re just there, floating around my head
rock back and forth, that always soothes me
nope not today
nothing works.
Breathe. Fucking breathe
or maybe if I just….
put my head under the water
and fall asleep
and oops
all stresses are gone.
Restricted
by by these thoughts
conflicted
what’s real what’s not
hello?
Maybe if I just….
lost my trail of thought
hello?
Is there anybody in there?
I know this building (me)
is in the process of coming to pieces
I’m trying to rescue you
hello? Is anyone there?
I’m trying to get you out before the ruin
torch light shining on the walls
they’re damp
and stained with blood
the upper roof has crashed in
wont be long now
this building is collapsing
can’t get to the heart of it
that will have to wait till the pieces have been collected
after the fall
this is place is gonna be derelict
for a while
forever if forgotten.
A foghorn in the night
A mist descended
Forlorn misfortunes intended
Belief in love suspended in a noose
And the lighthouse bathes the shore in light
But you can’t see it For your plight
©May 2016 (I think)
I met god in a movie theatre
He kept shushing me
I walk along these new York streets
And the whoosh of cars keep hushing me
I met with mike from the Bronx
I said “Hello” and he cut me off
I went to the botanical garden
And all the flowers choked me
Allergens be damned in New York
I went to Staten Island
The coastline stifled me
I boarded the Staten Island ferry
The waters lulled me to sleep
I boarded a boat to Manhattan
The skyline overawed me
The ways of this world
Daunting me.
© 2016
Gonna get me a porkpie hat
Sit in new York and listen to jazz
Kick my feet back, relax
Just what the doctor ordered
When I get out of Alcatraz
He said
Get them new shoes
And wear ‘em in
Don’t listen to that gype
when they can’t handle your stripes
And remember young man
When they generalise
It may be true
But that’s your chance
To be an individual you!
So get on those damn new shoes
© 2016 May
If God exists because the world needed a creator, because nothing can come from nothing, then who or what created God?
And if God just ‘always was’ then doesn’t that contradict the above argument?
And if God was created by something then who created that something?
What if we can’t conceive of nothing, because there is no nothing? Or is there nothing and we’re not even something?
or is God nothing?
What?
These are no thoughts
I can put a pencil to
I’m not sure I’m even thinking anymore
I’m just feeling things
Bad things
I thought I was thinking
For a moment
Only to find my mind was blank of words
And that my only thought was
“Where have all my thoughts gone”
I can’t describe to you
Why I feel the way I do
Because I have no thoughts
Attached to them anymore
I’m just walking around in a daze
Restless, but I don’t know why
Each moment I remember in a haze
Going outside at the crack of dawn
And back out every moment
And why? Fuck knows why
I feel like I want to cry
But I don’t even have tears
Guess even my rivers can run dry
I have nothing to say
It isn’t this and it isn’t that
Don’t you get it?
I can’t read anymore
Because the words just….
What? I can’t even remember that thought
Bereavement counselling?
No.
Loss is the last of my worries
Or is it
Fuck I don’t even know
I sit and you think I’m okay
He’s trying right
Cuz he’s sitting with us now
That’s what they think
That’s what I want them to think
But I’m not sure
Fuck it. Fuck what?
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.fuck.
Fuck.
I think fuck might just be my only thought
Just a row of fucks
Though I’m not sure what fucks they are
If they’re given or received
If it’s that chilled ‘fuck it, man”
Or that agitated ‘FUCK’ screaming
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck
I drowning without flailing
Or maybe I am
But you can’t tell
No one can tell
No. I’m all alone in my own hell
And you all talk
Outside of me
And I just nod and speak words back
Like “yea” “no”
All the necessities
Of polite
But I’m not really sure I’m here
Or there
Or… Anywhere.
Oh fuck.
What will it take to make you realise
To the extent at which I have drowned.
Fuck. Fucking fuck, fuckity fuck
Jesus.
Hello?
You know what
I want to reach out
But I don’t
Cuz there is nothing
Anyone can say
Doesn’t matter who you are
FUCK. FUCK. FUCK.
Shit. What the fuck
I’m so confused
I’m all alone
No one can reach me
I can’t even reach myself
It’s 1 am. I think I might just go
And sit back out.
silverbackgorillapoetry.com 