Time should take away the need, for the plasters on the scabs
But what with this pain I bleed, the present feels like the past
Memories fall to the ground, like autumn leaves
Familiarities all around, as summer leaves

As I ruin this blank page with words absurd,
Her tears fall like rain, torrential pain
It’s tragic our desires define our logic

And if I dull my senses, can I forget my vices?
I pursue my own karma, I love my chains


Peter, The Pan

Peter was the king of neverland

although, even Peter became a beggar

when he schemed a plan

to beg Wendy for a favour.


Peter, f**k, you fool. You grew,

and grew and grew and sown

and sown those seeds for needs

you never knew, ’til you’d grown.


Needs of pseudo dictate what I know

As the ‘significant’ turned me so ignorant

As I push slow, no clue where to go

no clue what’s right, no clue how to write

Remember that kid

Word of the day – pertinacious

Pertinacious- adhering resolutely to an opinion, purpose or design

To be pertinacious is close minded
Not very spacious in terms of opinion
I guess you could say it’s quite blinded
To be pertinacious when designing

Designing a thought based only on what’s been taught
Suggests you think you already know
Everything you need with no room to grow

We could say we’re never pertinacious
But that’s a statement completely fictitious
Because even of us the most willing to listen
Have believes in a box; absolutely locked in.

Addiction, II

Believe me I smoked; not just a little.  I went to town on that plant.


All the wasted years

All the tasted tears

Creating a terrible reality by

Smoking away all my fears.


But I quit; what now?

Pen and paper is a good start

A reloaded soul

shooting from the heart


Words spewed from thoughts absurd

Shouting out but never heard

Or listening


Turns out

A whisper was enough

Spoken to the right person, in the right fashion

Just spoken honestly, relax and



slow down



She asked

Room too crowded?

Is your sadness worth their happiness?


She told me


Just leave

No one’s forcing you to stay

You think it’s too late

Let me reiterate

You are free. Just leave.

A beautiful waste

It’s almost as if

we put together our subconscious

to try and figure out

how we could amplify trust and doubt


we had the ingredients

to make a beautiful taste

but instead we opted

to cook a bitter waste


too late to say what if

too early to say regret

too late to wish for a restart

too early to wish we never met 

Sweet dreams

I’ve always preferred the moon
To the sight of the sun
I’d rather feel the heat of the lead
Than the grip of the gun

Sweet dreams
of a beautiful reality
Of a potential legacy

Sweets dreams
Of ending brutality
Mursi’s power growing daily

Every ending has a beginning

Metaphors to open doors

Doors in my mind

Mind my step
Step right and stand proud
Proud of what I achieve 
Achieve what I target
Target what’s right 
Right and wrong
Wrong to say what’s right
Right to turn to loved ones
Loved ones guided me back
Back home