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POETRY

A place where words meet you where you are

When it comes to poetry, my writing takes on many different forms.
It could be about philosophical aspects of life, hardship, love, and hate.
Concepts that are universal to the human mind.

My poems are in the 100+ range, so instead of plastering each and every one here,
I'll just take the time to highlight a smaller more palatable amount:

Stew

I was killed last night.

Right around the time the sun died too.

Slipping from dawns drowse,

To an eerie blue.

 

I write around the time

the sun dies too.

Words born in the shadows,

Like broth-to-stew.

 

Melancholy.

 

Smelling coffee, with a tainted view.

It’s strange.

 

To ricochet thoughts, off worn walls.

Regret filled balls,

Bouncing through the room.

 

Time flew.

 

Wallpaper peels,

Leaving a dull-dampened-blue…

A pot simmers in the kitchen…

The taste of rue stew.

Devil's Dance

There was a party in town.

Its music spoke with a goal.

A chant and calling

To the devils dance.

Bring an empty

love shaped

hole.

 

That empty, love-shaped hole inside.

Is the perfect place

for sin.

 

Repeating the fleeting fillers of love.

Lost

in smoke

and gin.

​

Drunk

on every

sin

we find

That the whispers that pull us in.

 

Leads to the calling, of true love falling.

With the bouncers

It waits

By the door.

Walls Whine

The eerie echoes of silence
Sings a song so still.

The silence
Of an empty room
Offers nothing
But a chill.

Nothing
But a chill.
Like an ice cube
To the cheek.

In the home of life
Empty handed.
Without a paddle
Up a creek.

If these walls could talk
They wouldn't.
They'd whistle a white noise,
Or a whine.

If these walls could talk
They shouldn't.
They'd seek to collapse
And intertwine.

Shine boots

To spit shine
Boots
In battle.
For without care
Your body bleeds.

Grasping at order
Within the chaos.
Like a soldier
Sowing seeds.

Like a soldier
Sowing seeds,
Like a formation
To a fight.

We're soldiers on the frontline.
In the unknown,
In the night.

In the right
Or in the wrong
We still buff up our boots
In battle.

Grasping at order
Within the chaos.
Glaring down life's...
Double
Barrel.

Travellers

We chase love

like travellers.

Looking everywhere but within.

 

A self-hating heart.

A canvas, no art.

Like a builder with a building of tin.

 

Like a builder with a building of tin,

It breaks. It shatters. It leaves you in two.

 

Left to chase love

like a traveller again.

Building buildings with an extra screw.

A Lovers Dream

To wrestle with the concept

Of an undying love.

 

It’s a concept

Of conviction.

 

An all or nothing type of tale.

 

A tale written in the runic rhymes.

From far of times

The song from folklore

Filled with whistles and chimes.

It chirps

To the soul,

yet cannot

Be fully

Fathomed.

 

Some fear the failure of understanding.

Faced with a dwindling flame.

They grind the concept

Down to a fictional fallacy.

Down to a nub of nihilism.

​

A critique

To a lovers

Dream.

Long-form

Poetry

These poems are in a bit of a longer format.
        They come from simple ideas that I then extrapolate
into something with meaning.

Be Bird.

In the everlasting search for ideas,
We often find ourselves finding none.

I want to be more like the birds of the blue.
Let me soar through the seemingly endless skies.

Riding the currents of life, with an effort of effortless elegance.
Let me be the birds of the sky.
Accepting the air, as the motion of life, exerting itself onto me.

It would be silly for a bird to try seize control over the weather and winds.
The natural forces bestowed upon it.

A bird let's go.
Trusting in it's instincts.
Trusting in the natural flow of nature.
So why can't we just
BIRD?

Why can't we just allow our ideas to take flight, without forcing their directions?

One false flutter of the wings, one too many tough take-offs, one too many

thoroughly thought out thoughts... And we spoil it all.

We spoil simplicity and spontaneity.
With our own "Savvy" sense of judgement.

So let me just be like the birds of the skies. Surrendering to the beat of the breeze.
Letting the ideas of the air flow.

A Notion For Nothing

In the endless expanse of this vacuum of darkness we call space.
I seek to settle
On a desolate planet.

I yearn to vanish. Fade into obscurity, to the point where even I cannot trace my way back.

Just emptiness all round.
A speck of nothing.
A dark sea of solitude.
No foundation of fraught memories.
No feelings for familiar figures.
No body to bleed the blood
Of a battered soul.

To disappear completely, lost beyond all sight.
A depth of space, where the twinkle of the stars is nothing more

than a grain of sand to the sea.

I seek to wander in a bodyless form.
Free from all the worldly woes and wants.
I sought to be forever adrift.
A realm where time means nothing. Where time IS nothing.
A place to break the bounds of life's chains.


To be, and to have
Nothing
Is all I want.
Alone.


To seek solace, in the fleeting pleasures of non-existence.
Turning against the empty promises of the world,
and instead embracing the earnest emptiness of non existence.

Short and Sweet

Fill My Lungs.

You’re an ocean.

Pouring the peace of your presence onto me.

​

I’m drowning in it.

 

Fill my lungs

With your love.

Let them expand.

Swelling up around my beating heart.

A heart that will beat,

To the rhythm

Of your flowing water.

 

Let me feel

the passionate pressure f your ocean my dear.

Let me drown in it.

Let Me Starve.

Take my love on a silver platter my dear.

Let me starve.

​​

Let me satiate your hungry for happiness my dear.​

 

Let me love you

till I shrink

To mere skin

And bones.

Heavenly Easel.

You’re a creation that took a lot of care.

God took his time with you.

You were on that easel of his

for that little bit longer.

 

You were splashed with colour,

Gift wrapped in a heavenly ribbon,

Scented with the sweet smell

of Gods candles

whilst he worked.

 

When you were gently packaged

and sent down.

Your arrival was met

with a standing ovation

from the angels.

They eagerly waited.

Biding time for your appearance.

 

The part that baffles me

Is how I

have now received you.

What a blessing you are.

You’re the epitome of art.

 

God clearly took his time with you.

You were obviously on his easel

that little bit longer.

Heartbeat to Hear.

Let me feel your heartbeat.

Like the thud of a giants steps.

Stomping out the ear-splitting sounds

Of sorrow.

The weapon

To a wicked world.

My Eyes.

Find the real version of you,

In the reflection

Of my eyes.

​

You'll see the expression

of perfection.

And a pupil

Now twice

The size.

Get in Contact

Looking to elevate your business's way with words?

Reach out and we can discuss what you want that process to look like,

where you want it to go, and how exactly we should go about it.

Each job I work on is rooted in passion and precision. No matter where you are,

or what your vision is... I'm set on one goal.

To help turn your business minded ideas into an articulate masterpiece.

+44 7737 306405

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