I : Darkness Falls

Candle crows black to the welcomed downpours
where upward fulmination does hurtle the torrents' reign,
the voices of choirs and their chimera fall through gales
hoisted from pale horses that hurtle, for the bearers of light
to which huddled are vampyres of the pysche shadowed out
by nightsticks made of false light, dwelling in swollen mud swathing.

Negative

I just discovered this whilst flicking through an old blog, it's a more recent piece (about two years old) and therefore probably a bit better than the stuff I was writing on there before.

Golden filament entwines
over buried crucibles
always unpenetrated.
Unmarred Spode
blots out marked reflection
incessantly malignant.
Deceptive gleams dim reason and
the empty cup distracts
with its fallacious utterances.
The sublime flash encloses
a nonsensical facade
all jubilant rememberance aborted.

Polaroid #1

do you remember

the fleeting cries

and the taste

of burning candles

burrowing through

the senses and

the pills in your hand

like jelly beans

lying on top of

a sleeping city laughing

and the rats

scurrying below?

The Ballroom Dance

Smiles that are extended from across of this here

Are what leave tightening air between the two

Of you.  Smiles left wondering what to think when

they look to you and find nothing but love that is spent.

Effected outsiders are what leave the insides destroyed

The further you pull away and behind the laughter

Of the boys and the girls who spend the whole day annoyed

Inside their heads, they hold the leftovers of what they are.

Encoldened touches and dying intentions of anything asked like

Beats that are dropping out of rhythm and are just noises now

As footsteps carry you away across the ballroom floor

Crowds are what swallow them whole, nothing to anyone, anymore and somehow.

Without the hope that was once around what is there left to expect?

To live without the necessary quintessentials and absolutes,

The selfish nature of those from which our nature vicarious

Sparks have all but left us starved and babbling, incapable and uncomprehending.

Passing Time

Look inside
Those cracked glass frames,
Full of water stained meaning
Through moonful glare, playful words.

Fast asleep,
The others play away in carnivals,
Run for miles amongst elongated blades
With hiding messages toy, still born fancy.

Placed palms
Grasp for more uncertainty,
Numbers slide through blackened sand.
Exchanges thrown, playtime's over, and time for home.

Insipid idylls
Stained alongside yesterday's photos,
That only 'retro' cameras can make
Nostalga's young dreamers have fallen away from this.

What's Left Behind

dirty bowls 

strewn on

letters unopened, insides untold

with crumbs on matresses

and sheets 

discarded

artifacts left untouched

glisten on sheets

black where celestial

bodies would above 

travel

faint ceilings with whisper,

heed rasping angels

breezing song call past

exposed limbs, blood 

colden

shadows of apparitions, 

an overexposed negative,

the photonic residue strains

an echo that 

penetrates

wind chimes playful and

cloudbroken, sun shimmers

hope in between eyes closed that

are missing the warm breath beside.

Mythonies

Waves of sound strung up, wrestled and tangled
Tendrils rising out, distressed and grasping
Oncoming traffic driving forward, colliding
High top balloons crashing, ripping through air to the ground.

Light fluctuating, sharp and distilled
Shoot through dialated passages, never unseen
Caught and trapped travelling messages
Streaming golden roads outward.

Clench palms with fists of fury
Bound with coloured string, suspended stacks
Inside negative whites that take up room,
this space is not empty, cluttered only.

Headshaped blurs, over sensed realities
filling to the brim with misunderstood focus,
Noises of crescending drums and crashing symbols'
Senseless ramble, glass to the wall and the fly uncaptured.

Red check that block on black
Pukka Pads on which scattered ideas are spent,
like woken from dreams of love and loss, of anger and loathing,
and of empty wanks left lost behind.