I am becoming more worried
about not being at all worried
about giving up a lifetime of working
about money coffers eventually dry out
about mortgage payments needed
about the inevitably of rough sleeping
I am becoming more worried
but not a lot else
I’ve given up the fight
I’ve given up on dreams
I am becoming more worried
but not a lot else
In my dream I was transported
without gods or buttons pressed
In my dream I was the hero
freckled youth I’d say
In my dream I wanted difference
polars swapped and fingers touch
In my dream I was transported
to a place without birth;
or death
I am better
than this,
I am
deserving,
without void
I would prosper,
with a pause and then silence
I would be heard
I just realised that spoken poetry
can be Magical
and I wasn’t quite prepared
for that
(Sorry)
Tonight SoundCloud revealed to me:
I installed SoundCloud today so now I can finally listen to @silence-manhorse 🙂
I even got the old guitar out and recorded some random noise but the flipping SoundCloud app doesn’t allow me to upload it 🙁 (Which is probably for the best, no-one should ever hear that piece of crap!)
There are six strings attached to the bridge / my fingers track the path easily / all the way to the head; pegged / I wish and hope the gods of screaming licks / be merciful this evening
You stand there, naked
words seeping through
the cracks.
I approach as you rapture
the fractures widen, the
words bombastic and
your smile emphatic.
You stand there, naked
words seeping through
the cracks.
I turn my back
with heart bleeding
I turn my back
with doubts
returning
There was no elephant in the room
much less a room
in the darkness he reached out
only to find
the Pit of Doom
