Headboard
Wood grain.
A tree's past life.
Every sway to and fro.
Every summer let grow.
It got cut down
in the fucking end though.
Tuesday, 10 December 2013
Crossing oceans to Old England's green
Crossing oceans to Old England's green
Cross the Atlantic,
but stay on Old England's green land.
Take me to Sayreville,
just promise to hold my hand.
We won't need ascensions or elevations,
just a view, the other and the golden sand.
Sing together, fall together,
be my rocks and my trees.
Sayreville Atlantic holds dear.
Cross the Atlantic,
but stay on Old England's green land.
Take me to Sayreville,
just promise to hold my hand.
We won't need ascensions or elevations,
just a view, the other and the golden sand.
Sing together, fall together,
be my rocks and my trees.
Sayreville Atlantic holds dear.
In rhythmical memoriam
In rhythmical memoriam
Enjoy the music;
God knows we need the distractions.
Relight memories with sweet sound.
Bathe in the waves as weightlessness
engulfs our hearts, keeping soft rhythms.
To hear the beat of the drums.
To hear the crash of waves.
Grooved into vinyl memories,
we will enjoy the music.
Enjoy the music;
God knows we need the distractions.
Relight memories with sweet sound.
Bathe in the waves as weightlessness
engulfs our hearts, keeping soft rhythms.
To hear the beat of the drums.
To hear the crash of waves.
Grooved into vinyl memories,
we will enjoy the music.
Wednesday, 13 November 2013
Child
Child
Draw back your curtains,
child.
Welcome to the world they call real.
It kicks you and taunts you,
child.
It tempts you and teases you,
child.
It loves you and leaves you,
child.
It desires you and needs you,
child.
It fulfils you and bleeds you,
child.
It knows you are fleeting like sound.
Welcome to the world they call real,
child.
Draw your curtains.
Draw back your curtains,
child.
Welcome to the world they call real.
It kicks you and taunts you,
child.
It tempts you and teases you,
child.
It loves you and leaves you,
child.
It desires you and needs you,
child.
It fulfils you and bleeds you,
child.
It knows you are fleeting like sound.
Welcome to the world they call real,
child.
Draw your curtains.
Friday, 8 November 2013
Resolute
Resolute
For it is time
To bear arms against the currents,
against the silence.
For it is time.
Man your stations,
Brute force, glance from shoulders
and strong jaw.
Man your stations.
Sentinel.
I will carry this world for you,
Stay, white flag.
Sentinel.
To protect and serve
It is time
to man your stations.
Sentinel.
For it is time
To bear arms against the currents,
against the silence.
For it is time.
Man your stations,
Brute force, glance from shoulders
and strong jaw.
Man your stations.
Sentinel.
I will carry this world for you,
Stay, white flag.
Sentinel.
To protect and serve
It is time
to man your stations.
Sentinel.
Tuesday, 29 October 2013
Ethereal
Ethereal
To be of another world,
both of gentle touch, gentle breath.
We leave you as you left us,
with fondest of memories.
Gaze upon weary bodies
as they break and fall;
still your strong back gave
the strongest supports,
you hold as though truss.
Can you hear whilst they weep?
We hold you high and remember
as you held us high as to protect.
Your snow falls to the ground,
undisturbed.
Our rains fall; we miss you.
Fondness remains.
Sleep for we are indebted to you.
To be of another world,
both of gentle touch, gentle breath.
We leave you as you left us,
with fondest of memories.
Gaze upon weary bodies
as they break and fall;
still your strong back gave
the strongest supports,
you hold as though truss.
Can you hear whilst they weep?
We hold you high and remember
as you held us high as to protect.
Your snow falls to the ground,
undisturbed.
Our rains fall; we miss you.
Fondness remains.
Sleep for we are indebted to you.
Monday, 28 October 2013
Frosted Windows
Frosted Windows
Out of the frosted window he peered, fearing the pervading darkness that encapsulated his location. To stare was a magical thing, absorbing the sights, the motions; but what happens after the black curtain falls? It's difficult to tell, as the soft velvet brings opaque to the transparent, dulls the clarity. His windows felt like the cold, cylindrical bars of a prison, his night the bricks that surround. So with a heavy sigh he continued to look for the sun, the moon, the stars. Yet difficulty arose when he was not permitted to look in the direction that was necessary.
"Where is the light?" Stop. "Where is the light?" Stop. "Light has diminished".
His utterance faded, its waves muffled in a black fabric draped over his eyes. 'What makes a man walk away from his mind?' (Green, D., 2008, What makes a Man?).
The song struck a chord and so he decided he knew what would force a man's feet to wander from the path those around him enjoyed. Divulgence, however, was not something he wished to labour his love with. "Drink up." He drew his curtains.
Out of the frosted window he peered, fearing the pervading darkness that encapsulated his location. To stare was a magical thing, absorbing the sights, the motions; but what happens after the black curtain falls? It's difficult to tell, as the soft velvet brings opaque to the transparent, dulls the clarity. His windows felt like the cold, cylindrical bars of a prison, his night the bricks that surround. So with a heavy sigh he continued to look for the sun, the moon, the stars. Yet difficulty arose when he was not permitted to look in the direction that was necessary.
"Where is the light?" Stop. "Where is the light?" Stop. "Light has diminished".
His utterance faded, its waves muffled in a black fabric draped over his eyes. 'What makes a man walk away from his mind?' (Green, D., 2008, What makes a Man?).
The song struck a chord and so he decided he knew what would force a man's feet to wander from the path those around him enjoyed. Divulgence, however, was not something he wished to labour his love with. "Drink up." He drew his curtains.
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