The world is a tennis ball
we’re unravelling her skin
we’re only animals
trying to eat
but we took too much
from the feast
We are a shadow on the earth
turning ourselves into stone
with language that separates us
from the fire in the flame
we burned
Poetry
Lyrics: Can’t breathe
Sometimes when I can’t quite figure out how to write an idea I get my guitar and play it (badly) and often the strumming brings words out and I will sing (extremely badly) any thoughts that come out of my head.
No I can’t really write music, I just strum a long and see what flows. My guitar playing is…. bad. So I don’t have music to this, and no, I really, really, can’t sing! So it will have to remain written only.
This anxiety has filled my lungs with the sea
I can’t breathe
And I’m supposed to make a recovery
but when I leap up to the surface
I can’t breathe
A fish out of water
in society
And all the people
talk about the likes of me
‘what and who should they be?
I love freedom
look at me
but lock him up
he’s a freak.’
And this anxiety
has filled my lungs with the sea
I can’t breathe
I leap to the surface
a fish out of water in society
and I can’t breathe.
‘We should open up the circus
he can be an orca in a tank
bang your hands and feet against the glass
provoke him and you’ll see
he will seethe
and that will confirm our beliefs
And this anxiety has filled my lungs with the sea
And I can’t breathe
And I’ve got to make a recovery
in this fucked up society
and I can’t breathe
Badly drawn boy
I am not afraid.
I am not afraid.
I’m a frayed end
tattered
ragged
unravelling
threadbare
fretting
Sweating the big and the little stuff and fluff
I am not afraid.
I am a scribble on paper
angrily scrawled
A flipbook
restlessly static
Tangled in squiggles
you can rip me up
scratch the pages, my skin
I am not afraid
I’m a badly drawn boy
dressed in a mans masquerade
Too human
You’ve got to be super sane
to fight for the rights of your people
Because if you don’t act like a ducks back
if you let them see the slightest crack
they will shake their fists
‘see this is why we can’t talk to the likes of you,
you’re too emotional
mentally ill.’
So I guess we’re supposed to be robots
but then haven’t you heard of the uncanny valley?
we’d still be too human for you!
And that is the crux of the issue
Fools rags
Our sanity is all the fucking fashion
gotta be the good one so they’ll listen
Don’t quite shift the status quo
and they might just leave you alone.
Our sanity is all the fashion
Must put on my best mask
mustn’t break, must learn to be a ducks back
Must be Sisyphus rolling that boulder there and back
forever and ever
musn’t fucking break.
Gotta be always fucking sane
be a good one to wipe the extremes away
because they only believe the headlines
that’s what they bring up in the head lights
when you shine them on their eyes
you try to argue your case
they twist your words
and squirm away
‘look at the headlines!’ they say
Because man bites dog is common in their eyes
they’ve seen it in black and white
they know more than you or I
it was in the fools rags
man bites dog, it happens everyday.
A freak: Warning lots of F words.
Don’t say you weren’t warned.
I’m a freak
A fucking freak
if only I could own it
I’m a freak
A fucking freak
A fucking pretender
an agitator
A fucking freak
trying to be normal
A fucking freak
Is that a bad thing?
I don’t know
I’m a fucking freak
But they call me a fucking sheep
I’m an alligator
A fucking agitator
A pretender
A fucking freak
I’m an accumulation of freakish things
A caricature of society
A reflection of mans insanity.
Earth
She existed only in the periphery of their vision. No one saw that in her was reflected truth. But maybe they had sensed it and that was why they never turned. She was a mirror, a fractured caricature of the society they tried to withhold.
They treated her presence like the absence of something long forgotten.
She was the earth and the bubble, the ecosystem that sustained them. Yet they dare not look.
The roads they paved both physically and metaphorically were scars upon her arms and wrists. And she bleeds away her sustainability while they continue to carve and crave more and more.
And while the Jays perch upon her oak crown and paint the forests, they cut them down. And sometimes she could forgive them, they were after all animals themselves. And some trees got put to good use but then they started to cut too much
And the land bared it’s bone.
Shut up buttercup
Shut up buttercup and lay in the grass
We’ll watch the Jays fly past
his blue feathers not so covert
the king of the oaks
Watch him fly
and gleam all that he knows
His dinosaurian voice
And moustachioed wisdom
calling to us
the harshness of reality
as we lay back on fields of yellow
soft beneath our skin
yielding to our unrelenting bodies
in this monstrous
yet wondrous world
Beatitudinem the golden ghost
Self help books
sell ghosts
to haunt your head
falsely lead
to expectations
of something better, further ahead
All these ideals
and narratives
We need to shed
yet letting go is so hard
when you’ve been sold the ethereal
beatitudinem the golden ghost
to which you could apparently become host
but, or so I’ve been told
happiness lives only in our heads
It never ends
I’m too small
to contain this
Shits about to blow
I tried to tell you this
but I fail to communicate
when all this shit accumulates
and each piece never goes away
so I’ll be stuck with this every day
and then more on top
It’s just the way
my brain is wired
Don’t know why
all these feelings that ebb and flow
they’re all painful
no respite
empty full
nothing and everything
I want a lobotomy
so tired
this is the trend
in my brain and it won’t end
