I’m tired of life
It’s always full of emptiness
we fill our time with TV
And any other screens
moving wallpaper over the teeth
underneath
that grind us
Tonight I don’t care for that nature’s green
it’s all a rollercoaster ride
beneath those canopies
pain and suffering hide
At least in winter, it’s plain to see
illusions revealing their skeletal remains
A butterfly isn’t beautiful
it’s a flutter of a moment
it’s death painted pretty
A blackbirds song isn’t melodic
it’s desperation dressed as music
trying to hang onto dear life
and I have to ask, why?
life
Is this alchemy or are we human to humus
Is this alchemy
or are we just fools?
Looking for silver lines
where there is no gold
Is a clod of earth just dirt to us?
Something to cleanse away
as if we didn’t come from the dust
that we will return to one day
NaPoWriMo: video editing minds
We fold so much into our heads
Video tapes playing and editing themselves
As days and years pass by
But each passing moment
We believe the faded pictures
Forgetting the details we’ve left behind
Yet we feel the presence of the abscences
But the feeling is overridden by a certaintity
We know our own minds
NaPoWriMo: Pushing up daises
If we push up daises when we’re dead
does that mean we’re all gardeners in the end?
but…
No. On second thoughts
it’ll just be another shade of death
when some fellow human ape
comes along with weed killer.
NaPoWriMo:Modern Dinosaurs
To a worm a blackbird Is like T rex
Haven’t you heard?
The dinosaur is in the magpies Sqwark?
In the titter tatter of bird talk
Dinosaurs have their beady eye on you
From between the leaves
Hunting and singing
Perching and swinging
Souring above your head
The rattle of a dinosaur.
NaPoWriMo: Pushing through
Living and breathing
pushing through anxiety
like I’ll be pushing up daises
when death should come
Pushing through anxiety
like a mother pushes out babies
One breath, two breath,
fuck that
I’m here death!
I’m done running
chasing my next breath
one breath, two breath
Fuck that
Eat me, death!
Put my hands in the soil
my fingers worming through roots
touching death
teeming with life
humus is humorous
two shades
one called death, one called life
different shades of each
50 shades of life
remember, can you remember why the strife?
No, not that, the other one
I’ve got plenty, but not a wife!
I thought I thought a thought
that strangled breath
Something about the traffic
of things
an accumulation
Too much, too many
fuck, too many wires
no wonder I’m so fucking wired
Chasing electricity
electrified
terrified
One breath, two breath
three breath
Pushing through anxiety
like I’ll be pushing up daises
One breath, two breath
a wall of bricks with wires
tongue tied, tongue lied
Remember, can you remember
the one very specific thing I thought I thought?
NaPoWriMo: Humus
Don’t we look happiest without the flesh?
I thought to myself as the worm wriggled through my eye socket
having played its part in returning me to humus
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.
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 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
silverbackgorillapoetry.com 