Tuesday, December 13, 2011

(Happy) Birthday.

I'm only 23 for,
Another day at the most.
I'm feeling crazy.
And I think that,
You need to clear the coast.

I've spent 2 years,
Dancing.
To the tunes she used to play.

Now it's my turn,
It's my chance.
To live it my own way.

So why don't you take me,
On a ride through wonderland.
Why won't you lend,
Lend me a hand?

I wanna go.
Get this out of my system.
Before I get old,
Too old for this.
I wanna go.
Explore your mystery,
I think I'm old,
Just old enough.

You've heard all my stories,
Of days long ago.

I've told you my secrets,
There's little,
That I think you don't know.

It's only fair that,
You show me.
The world I want to see.

And I promise,
You'll be happy.
As long as you're with me.

So come let me take you,
On a trip through wonderland.
All you need to do,
Is hold my hand.

So we can go,
Get this out of our system.
Before we get old,
Older than this.
I'm sure we can go,
Explore this mystery.
I think we're old,
Or just old enough.


Sunday, November 20, 2011

Wrath.


He tried to smoke away his pain,
And burn away his tears.
Held the glass in a mottled fist,
To somehow drown his fears.

He swore he wouldn’t go,
Till the song was sung.
Till the story had been told,
And the bell was rung.

If only he’d been smarter,
She’d still be there.
Instead of broken glass,
He’d feel her golden hair.

But the time has passed on,
And the book is writ.
The shrouded hand of fate,
Has been venomously bit.

On a silent summer day,
He can still recall.
When the wind was still warm,
As the leaves began fall.

As the sun found the horizon,
He’d found her arms.
In the midst of a storm,
She was an island of calm.

But he was arrogant and a fool,
As time would soon show.
When with the touch of a gun,
Her blood began to flow.

It wasn’t he who pulled the trigger,
He’d scream to the world.
It wasn’t her pleading cry,
That they had heard.

He claimed he did not do it,
He was an innocent man.
Even though they found her blood,
On his shirt and hands.

Those Men of God had judged him,
As the foulest of men.
They’d cast their blame upon him,
Time and again.

So he’d cradled sweet revenge,
Like the glass in his palms.
He’d waited time and again,
For the pain to pass.

But tonight was a darker night,
It was a time to prey.
Those who had judged him,
Would now have to pay.

He felt the familiar weight,
Of wood and cast lead.
He went on to cleanse the land,
With the purest dread.

Today he transcends the man,
As he walks his chosen path.
He embodies the seventh sin,
He becomes Wrath.


Note: This work happens to be connected to The Killer, which I wrote a while back. It's a prequel of sorts, if they even exist in poetry.

Thursday, November 17, 2011

The Joker in the pack.

There are striking similarities between being a Joker in the 52 and one in real life.

It goes far deeper than just being a humour-monger and the centre of excitement. Like they say, there's a face I wear behind my grin. I prefer to think about it this way; the joker can be whatever he wants in a game of cards. In life, I much prefer the fun of keeping people guessing than being strapped down as one 'type'. Then, there's also the fact that there are only 2 jokers but 4 of every other card, which gives me a misplaced sense of uniqueness.

Add to that the fact that sometimes the joker is the most coveted and at other times he's completely excluded. This cruel twist of fate applies in real life with incredible accuracy and it's something that adds a touch of excitement to every tomorrow. Never knowing at what point in the hierarchy I stand makes me constantly push myself to move higher up in the scheme of things. All the while being the crazy fuck that the Joker is supposed to be.

Being the joker however, comes at a steep price. The constant clowning and unending need to stand apart begins to wear thin and if the façade cracks for even a moment, it all comes undone. So, despite being the apparent extrovert the Joker is the ultimate recluse who reveals himself only to a chosen few, if any.
It's a brilliant ruse that takes up an immense amount of exertion, but I've realized that if you constantly smile for no apparent reason that smile becomes a part of you. It makes you treasure moments that would otherwise pass you by and it gives you a sense of freedom and fuck-it-all that few have the privilege to experience.

So, in conclusion, I've realized that I thrive in ridicule and I enjoy keeping people guessing at exactly what I'm up to. It also feeds that insatiable urge within me to make people judge me in the first go, so that I can shatter that illusion later on.

Now whether the Joker comes out of on top in this game, we'll have to wait and see.

Monday, October 31, 2011

Whiskey dreams.

I've been getting high,
To keep these feelings down.

My head in the sky,
My knees on the ground.

In the arms of a stranger,
I've found myself alone.

Far from her eyes so tender,
Forgotten and gone.

Now I'm so tired,
That I think I'm dying.
I'm so worn out,
Because I keep on trying.
I hope this weariness,
Gets the better of me.
The eternal sleep takes over,
And I can lay restfully.

When I was younger,
I was afraid.

Of falling in love,
And being unmade.

But now I'm older,
And I see what happens.

When chances are taken,
And your heart is open.

Now I'm so tired,
When my heart has been broken.
A stranger devil,
Has been awoken.
I hope this demon,
Gets the better of me.
I close my eyes,
And die peacefully.

The days grow darker,
And the nights they scream.

Through a smoke-filled mirror,
And my last whiskey dream.

In the midst of this sickness,
I will now be awake.

Time to fight the weakness,
There's new chances to take.

Now I'm so tired,
I grow weary of crying.
I'm taking the chances,
Or I'll die trying.
I won't let a broken heart,
Get the better of me.
I'll shed my old skin,
And find who I can be.

Sunday, October 30, 2011

Discoveries.

I knew we'd lost it,
For a long time.

Maybe that's why,
I feel fine.

I'm sure there's nothing wrong,
With me.

I feel as happy,
As I could be.

I found my life,
But lost my love.
I don't care what I've become.
I found my life,
But lost my love.
I feel it's only just begun.

There's no emotions,
Where I come from.

Just illusions,
And a sad song.

I think they have a name,
For this feeling.

But I forget,
Because it's fleeting.

I found my life,
But lost my love.
I don't care what I've become.
I found my life,
But lost my love.
I feel it's only just begun.

Saturday, October 22, 2011

Ashes high.

I left your lightless home,
In the dark of the night.

Holding on to a silhouette,
Wondering what is right.

A voice grew from my heart,
Painfully clear.

Tells me there's no need to cry,
This is no time for fear.

We were going to ride into the sunset,
But now the world's gone dark.
We were aiming for happily ever after,
Seems like we missed the mark.
Now what is left of us,
Will turn to dust,
And I'll love again, from the start.

Time was on our side,
That's what we were told.

I believed every lie,
In the promises of old.

Now the time has passed us by,
There's silence here.

In this darker shade of night,
I find a lack of fear.

We were going to ride into the sunset,
But now the world's gone dark.
We were aiming for happily ever after,
Seems like we missed the mark.
Now what is left of us,
Will turn to dust,
And I'll love again, from the start.

Don't look around,
For a fake shade of blue sky.

Don't hold your breath,
The breeze won't bring me by.

Just hold back you tears,
Now it's my turn to cry.

What is left of us,
Will turn to dust,
Starting with my heart.
What is left of us,
Will turn to dust,
And I'll live again, from the start.

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Life's looking up.

I'm spending all my money,
On cheap kicks and smooth wine.
I'm spending all my money,
On cheap kicks and smooth wine.
I've got a life that's too short to live,
So I'm gonna go on,
And have a good time.

I'm gonna wake up every morning,
Find some green leaves to burn.
Coz you never know how this game will play out.
And I don't wanna feel,
Like I missed my turn.

I'll be standing on the corner,
Watching the world go by.
I'll reach out for one of those teary eyes.
And tell them don't worry,
There's no need to cry.

I'm spending all my money,
On cheap kicks and smooth wine.
I'm spending all my money,
On cheap kicks and smooth wine.
I've got a life that's too short to live,
So I'm gonna go on,
And have a good time.

There's a million different reasons,
For a million different crimes.
But to spend my years writing dreary songs.
Seems like a waste,
Of words and rhyme.

So I'm spending all my money,
On cheap kicks and smooth wine.
I'm spending all my money,
On cheap kicks and smooth wine.
I've got a life that's too short to live,
I'm gonna go on,
And have a good time.

Monday, July 25, 2011

The City (Incomplete)

The young and the old,
Hide in their homes.
They peek from the window,
Like Nero watched Rome.
Huddled together,
They're perfectly alone.
But this town has no Caesar nor savior.

The Godmen and saints,
Barter in hope.
At least they sell,
The right length of rope.
To hang our sorrows,
Or to happily choke.
When we run out of places to believe in.

The ghost of the past,
Is awakened everyday.
For words of comfort,
Provided we pay.
We listen to nothing,
That they all have to say.
But it's all just pointless knowledge.

The cry of a little girl,
Is drowned by pelted stones.
The name's of the innocent,
Burned with their bones.
She's killed in the street,
After being used by her own.
Their smile isn't laughter, it's madness.

The child under the bridge,
Holds a baby in her hands.
Her mother in the street,
Trying to understand.
Father and brother,
Lost to the land.
That is the story of this city.

Sunday, June 19, 2011

Postcard from Paradise.

Send me a postcard from paradise,
When you get there today.
You're far away from this rotten world,
It seems to have lost its way.

I know where you've gone,
They grow tulips in the sky.
They wear white wings with halos,
They have no reasons to cry.

Here the land is burnt and scarred,
From the fists of man and his iron bars.
The water has turned a holy red,
From fighting peace and endless wars.

We plant roses in the rain,
And hope that they grow.
But we'll cut them for the thorns,
As if we don't know.

So send me that letter,
That postcard from paradise.
Show me something better,
That I may smile with these eyes.

I know where you are,
There's rainbows everyday.
A cure for every wound,
And no pain in what you say.

Here a child cries,
For black gold we all weep.
In the face of our maker,
Our silence we will keep.

Every now and then,
Someone tries to fight.
But one man cannot stand,
Against all the world's might.

So send me that letter,
That postcard from paradise.
Show me something better,
That I may smile with these eyes.

Give me some hope,
Even if they be empty words.
I'll dream that I may join you,
In your perfect little world.

Thursday, June 2, 2011

Red-taped message.

Why do you care,
How I live my life?
Keeping your tabs,
On who lives and dies.

The records show,
The numbers are clear.
In the mind of the people,
All that's left is fear.

Why do you care,
How many drinks I drink?
Feeding my brain,
Telling me what to think.

Stay in your temples,
With your holy idols.
Don't tell me what I do,
Is wrong by your morals.

Who are you to say,
The world is going wrong?
Does everyone have to sing,
The same damn song?

We don't need you,
To show us the way.
No need to tell us,
What to think and what to say.

We're better off,
With a lack of your kind.
We can put our troubles,
To the back of our minds.

With you gone,
There's a chance for peace.
A chance for silence,
A hope for relief.

So leave us now,
And take your pawns with you.
Your day has come,
At dawn we're through.

We're finally better off,
With peace in our minds,
The problem you are,
Will be the last of your kind.

Sunday, May 29, 2011

I Miss You

Last night I had a dream of her,
It was the one thing that made it better.
I hated the morning bird and it's call,
Now I wish I hadn't dreamt it at all.

I can almost feel her nicotine kiss,
I can almost feel our bodies meld.
It's been a while since I got my fix,
I'm wishing soon we will be well.

I miss the scent of us making love,
I miss the hint of gin on her breath.
I hope that soon I'll hold my love,
And I wont let go until the end.

I can feel your eyes on my skin,
I can feel your smooth hair in my hand.
I can feel a pain deep within,
And I know no one will understand.

So let me lie and just dream of her,
Think of a day when I'll be with her.
One of these days we'll cross the miles,
And we will live it out, together.

Thursday, May 19, 2011

Wall Street Hooligans

I see your white collar,
Under piles of red tape.
Getting away with murder,
Loot, theft and rape.
You’re unflappable,
Incorrigible,
You’re The Man.

You bought the world,
And now that it’s been sold.
You’ve got time on your hands,
To get a shiny new soul.
Sooner or later,
You’ll think you’re finally whole.
But that’s impossible,
Coz you’re The Man.

You have friends in high places,
Dark hearts and smiling faces.
You bet your money,
On high-stake rat races.
But sooner or later,
The cards will crash down.
You’ll still rise again,
Coz you’re The Man.

You’ll find a pretty dame,
Who will give you fake love.
She likes the size of your wallet,
It fits her like a glove.
One of these days,
Your wife will find out.
But it doesn’t matter,
Coz you’re The Man.

You feel you’re quite immune,
Safely on the wheels of good fortune.
Soon you’ll sing a different tune,
When we take it all back.

You’ll see when you fall down,
As we crush your plastic crown.
You’ll walk all the way round,
In feathers and tar.
You’re not invincible,
Not untouchable.
You’re just a man.

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Thumbing my way.

"Life is a journey."

We keep hearing that phrase but we never really give it much of a thought. I mean we wonder about it, but have you ever really considered how literal that phrase is?

Life is essentially a constant journey from point A to point B. Now, I'm not getting metaphorical or philosophical, I'm getting geographical. We are, in this life, constantly looking at two things; where we've been and where we're headed. Life is the constant act of changing our location and wondering about where it's going to change to.

Every morning we wake up and we think about how we're gonna go to the next room, the bathroom, the kitchen and eventually out of home to the parking, then the bike, then the road and finally office. Within an hour we calculated so many changes in our location and actually acted upon them. The journey of a morning.

But that's not enough for us. When we've finished this little journey we still wonder, at times, about how it could have been a better one. Could I have cut some time at some point in the morning? Maybe I should have gone to the ATM first and then the cigarette store. We're constantly worrying not just about how to get the the next location, but also how we got to the current location. Why don't we ever stop?

Take a moment here and think. Where are you? Not in the 'answer to life' kind of way, simply in the 'Holy shit, I'm in office in front of my PC writing stuff' kind of way. There isn't a deep message here at all, it's just a moment of introspection. Take a moment to realise you are 1 person out of 6 billion. On one planet out of 8. In one solar system out of potentially 100 billion. In one galaxy out of potentially 1 trillion. You are... no, We are, enormously insignificant.

Everything that we are doing on a daily basis, this so called journey, is immaterial. So then, what is the point of it all? I guess we have to do the best we can, we enjoy it! So stop thinking about where you've been and where you're going or all the places you wish you had been to and all the places you plan on going to. Just take a breath, stand in a spot and wonder; Where are all the roses you were supposed to stop and smell?

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

Writer's Blocked

Tuesday, May 03, 2011, 9:14 pm

It's been a while my old friend. You, my words, that used to be my one vent. I don't even remember the last time I wrote for the sake of writing, the act of writing for myself and not a purpose. These days that's all I seem to do, write for someone or to achieve something. My writing has turned into the means to an end and along the path of adapting myself I seem to be losing something far more important, my ability to write.

There was a time when I could sit down for a few minutes and polish off a page full of words that left me happy, left me satisfied. I haven't felt that in a long long time, the simple feeling of being happy with what I've written. Even right now I can feel some change come over. Like these little darkening pixels are taking a little bit of darkness away from me. My writing is my therapy. It is the one thing that stuck by me and stuck with me, helping me through the worst of times and keeping me up through the best of them.

These days I doubt the simplest thing. Can I write? Of course, not in the literal sense of it, I'm writing right now. I mean in the deeper sense of it. I remember writing things that made people wonder, I have vague recollections of people lauding and applauding me for a string of words. Where has all that gone? It's not like I've forgotten the words, I still use the same everyday. Have I lost my craft? That's it isn't it. But, I wouldn't use the term 'lost', maybe just 'misplaced'. Or have I become cynical, demotivated or just plain dumb? I refuse to believe that I have. I know somewhere, under a lot of filth and dust, lies that brilliant writer that I thought I was. I just have to dig him out and make him stand on his own two feet again. I have to pick him up and get him crafting again.

And maybe, the answer is showing itself. It's these words. The words I thought I'd lost, the thoughts that I fear had wandered away from me, these are what will bring me back. I need, I must keep writing. I must keep pouring my heart out on a blank white sheet and watching it fill up with the colour of my anguish. As black as ink, now I realise the weight of the term.

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Burning Bridges

The echoes of a silent night,
Birds that sing and a rising light.

The memory of a perfect time,
The friend for you and you were mine.

Days that passed in lighter veins,
Merrier times and easier ways.

A friend I had so long ago,
Would change so soon, I'd never know.

I missed the telling signs,
That showed themselves everytime.
I should have known what would be,
How soon it would pass to memory.

A broken bond,
That seemed so strong.
Lost and gone,
So long, so long.

Monday, March 14, 2011

Self Appraisal.

Look at me,
I'm an ordinary man.
Doing something,
That anybody can.

Weaving words,
And hoping to find a way.
To get people to read,
And think of what I say.

We're no different,
You and me.
Or that vagabond,
Walking down the street.

A billion people,
A billion different dreams.
Living within,
And way beyond our means.

What sets me apart,
Is the choices that I make.
The risks that I,
Will or will not take.

The sweet love,
That someone will soon know.
The broken heart,
And the words that follow.

We all bleed red,
If you cut any color of skin.
We're all the same,
What we are, lies within.

But tell me this,
Are you like me or am I like you?
What's different,
In the things that we do?

If we're all the same,
Then why should I even try.
Like we all live,
Some day we will soon die.

We walk alone,
But we never truly are.
You may feel bad,
But others have seen worse by far.

So stop thinking,
That you stand above the rest.
They're all trying,
It's all an imaginary test.

So step back,
From the varied silent crowd.
Hear my voice,
It may not be that loud.

What I say,
Applies to everyone.
Have some patience,
Your time has just begun.

Look at you,
You're an ordinary man.
Someone else is the same,
You're not the only one who can.

Look at me,
I'm an ordinary man.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Words.

My voice has left me,
My words are long gone.
It seems like yesterday,
But what I write now, seems wrong.

I used to sing praises,
And write about the good.
Notice what was missed,
Understand what was overlooked.
My heart seems weaker,
Every day that it beats.
My head seems heavier,
With every line that it thinks.

Broken glass would inspire,
Remind me of once complete things.
Each moment would aspire,
To write of greater beings.
My rhyme is forgotten,
What I write I do not know.
Something is missing inside,
And my words refuse to show.

My voice has left me,
My words are long gone.
It seems like yesterday,
But what I write now, seems wrong.

I could dream of splendid days,
Made of beautiful things.
I could create a harmony,
Yet now I cannot sing.
The days now drag on,
Those times was what I lived for.
But I’m dreading tomorrow today,
There’s nothing new to be found.

I want my inspiration,
I want my dedication.
I want all that’s gone,
I want all that I’ve never known.
To feel the joy of something new,
These days the moments are few.
I struggle with words for now,
Where is my mind lost?

Someone give me my voice,
Fill up this silent noise.
Give me comfort,
Let me write again.

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Stoner Mongering.

Somewhere, somehow, someone believes that what they write on a virtual plane will be heard. Everywhere.

We all believe we're echoing some kind of super-conscious that resonates and lets us connect, and that my words will spread like wildfire and bring about the change that I hope and dream.

A foolish hope.

A stupid belief.

Doesn't stop me from trying again and again. Like this failed attempt despite it all.

I'm not sure yet if I'm making any sense. English don't fail me now...

Ah well. I'm stoned.

Thursday, February 24, 2011

Sound Advice.

There's a poet, yet alive inside you, my friend.
Let him out.

Be not afraid of what the world will say, my friend.
Scream your dreams,
Write out loud.

You've doubted your worlds too long, my friend.
Don't hold back.

Beauty flows from your fingers, my friend.
She screams a dream,
Write out loud.

Sunday, February 20, 2011

Pointless Rambles.

Please don't stop me from saying this,
I need you now than I ever did.
The words keep flowing and you're need,
In my life for this poetry.

I can't hear what you say to me,
I wish to live a little comfortably.
Don't be sad for this day,
Some day tomorrow will be eternity.

My prose keeps falling and breaking down,
The smile has turned to a twisted frown.
Toil in this world for a shaded pride,
Laughing and flying through a sordid ride.
Just sleep,
It's all that's needed.
Just live,
It's all about loving.

The silence breaks we're moving on,
The wound it heals like the crack of dawn.
A brighter light shines again,
What we were has faded to memory.

So think of us when you sleep tonight,
Love that stood through every fight.
A fork in the road and a choice to make,
A harder way for the journey's sake.
Just sleep,
It's all that's needed.
Just live,
It's all about loving.

Saturday, February 5, 2011

Night by day.

I watch the moon,
Light up your face,
So sweet.

Hating sunrise,
And what he'll bring.

Hating tomorrow,
When you'll be gone.

Remembering that sleep,
Escaped us that night.
Yet not tired for a drop I feel.

And now the dreams fill your eyes.
The cold touches your skin.
As our feet wake up entwined,
And we speak for the very first time.

Stronger than steel,
I am.
Or so I'd like to believe.

That hated sunrise,
Showed me what I'd lost.

He showed me,
When you had gone.

Our hearts,
Are never our own.
A love that has come and gone.

In a time,
When we should have known.
The dreaded sun,
Is never wrong.

But I still remember,
When the dreams filled your eyes.
The cold touched your skin.
As our feet woke up entwined,
And we spoke for the very first time.

I still remember.

Monday, January 24, 2011

Unknown Inspiration.

Brown eyed beauty,
For all the comfort you give.

We will fade into the rising sun,
Before we have a chance to forgive.

Brown eyed beauty,
For all your sympathy.

And the silent observer,
That you played with me

I will thank you till forever's day,
And think of what you said.

With another night spent,
Intwined on the bed.

But when the sun comes up,
You will have gone away.
And when the sun comes up,
We will meet the end of the day.
When the sun comes up,
We can't have a regret,
But when the sun comes up,
I know we won't forget.

Brown eyed beauty,
For all that strength.

That I see in your eyes,
And when you catch your breath.

I'd help you to fight,
Fight the war,
With your demons that have bled.
For the truth,
And the lies left unsaid.

But when the sun comes up,
You will have gone away.
And when the sun comes up,
We will meet the end of the day.
When the sun comes up,
We can't have a regret,
But when the sun comes up,
I know we won't forget.

Another morning,
Brings warmth to my bones.
Another breeze,
Leaves a chill in my knees.
Another day,
Takes her memory further on.
Another night,
I will wish that you'd stayed on.

But when the sun comes up,
You will have gone away.
And when the sun comes up,
You will have forgotten what I say.

Monday, January 17, 2011

Outdated Apologies.

I think I might,
Lose my mind,
If I hear your voice again.

The way you sound,
Teary eyed,
When I'm faking confidence.

You made your choice,
To leave me when,
The anger filled your voice that day.

You know I meant,
I love you still,
I lied and said, just go away.

And now I'm empty.

Your lipstick smeared,
From tears I fed,
Your make up was all washed away.

In my sadness still,
I remembered the smile,
Of you and me in a better day.

In the night I held you,
Close in hope,
That you would never run away.

I shoulda stayed back,
And heard you out,
Instead I kept my stupid ways.

And now I'm empty.
Now I'm empty.

I think I might,
Lose my mind,
If I hear your voice today.

Just to hear,
You break in tears,
Knowing I made you this way.

But I'm empty.
I'm empty.

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

The desperate attempt.

Your smile is in my head,
Picture it, on my eyes again.
You face will never leave me,
And now there's no hope,
To be free.

But I tried.
To give you what you wanted.
I tried,
Till I fell.
You know I tried,
To work with what was handed.
I tried,
Can't you tell?

Your memories they hold me,
Sighing breaths and smiling days.
Broken dreams of what could be,
And the stolen chance, taken once again,
From me.

But I tried.
To give you what you wanted.
I tried,
Till I fell.
You know I tried,
To work with what was handed.
I tried,
Can't you tell?