Friday, 8 February 2013


Batten the hatches, close down the doors,
Wind up the windows and tape down the floors,
Lock up for lockdown, swivel a key,
Scaffold the ceiling generously,

Light bulbs like onions spin hazardous wool,
Into lines of ‘tales are too eventful’,
Tables and chairs are not so alike,
As to fit in the space between shadow and light,

If paper makes parachutes, I’m okay to crash,
Into wires and lenses, from take-offs to ash,
Colours of cuboids stand solid, robust,
But they sink in the oceans with lies and mistrust,

Piles of peppers set fire to ice,
While dust rains through archways, if words might suffice,
Brainwaves and centuries alike and alone,
Within earsight and eyeshot, complexion takes throne,

Notable spotlights burn out in the skies,
Sautéing galaxies and pigs who pass by,
Calligraphic sentences to prison and life,
Are why they aspire to bullet or knife,

If poorly sliced vision offers sense of regret,
Then my clearly cut intake performs as offset,
Letters and numbers, painting concept,
Give me hours of practice, so I’m ever inept,

Broken guitar strings can always be played,
If numbers of equality can always be made,
And while rubber ducks swim in kitchenware sinks,
There’ll be locks drawn on doors with India ink,

And noting the tone of this graphite voice,
Comes a pen with an eagle to signify choice,
Beneath layers of lifetimes and deathtimes galore,
Sits a torn strip of sellotape on travertine floor.

I am struggling over the meaning of most of this, and a part of me just wants to sit and analyse it verse by verse, line by line, and word by word. I wrote the first line; the rest followed with relative ease, and little attention to what I was actually putting down there. "Hoorah! for fun and not revising things~" 

Tuesday, 5 February 2013

The World is Growing Smaller

The universe always expands,
And with it the world will grow,
But I cannot comprehend this change,
With each passing day there's increasingly less,
For me, the world grows smaller.

Time progresses, 
Stretches out,
I stay within doors and laze about,
My brainwaves attenuate,
For me, the world grows smaller

A song will pass into the charts,
Another joins, "A work of art",
They're all the same,
There is no change,
For me, the world grows smaller

The fish will swim into the glass,
Until the shoddy bowl will crack,
Her world floods out onto the floor,
It's a whole new place but she won't live,
Her life is falling shorter,
Her world is growing smaller

Bigfoot hangs inside his home,
A jagged, rocky, mountain dome,
The tracks of trains must pass on by,
"Let's blow the mountainside sky-high",
The walls collapse, Bigfoot is trapped,
His cave has tumbled under,
His world is growing smaller

The letters used in every book,
Passing as a major look,
They feel the same,
There's nothing new,
For me, the world grows smaller

The echoes of an ancient age,
Forgotten within the human rage,
The eyes of all forget to see,
What has, what was, what used to be,
Ideas grow, but logic shrinks,
For me, the world grows smaller.

An old-ish piece of writing, posted on dA, before I thought "Hm. What about that lonely blog of yours, then?" It was built mostly from reflective/conceptual thoughts, I think, and, as I recall, it hit a completely seperate idea to what I'd been aiming for, but, meh. So, that's another few-month-old poem which hasn't been lucky enough to sit through re-vision. :P Good day.