poetry

Floating

Floating.

Floating.

That’s my favourite past-time.

Just floating;

Like a balloon on the end of

A bit of string-

A floating witness

But only thinly attached,

And anyone

At any moment

Could pass me a pair of

Scissors.

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poetry

Doomed, You Say?

To whoever said I was doomed:

Thank you,

‘Cause I think you’ll find I am,

And it was

So

Helpful to learn it early on.

Now,

Stop your worrying and tell me:

Would you like one serving

Of self-deprecation

Or two?

Since you’ve freed me from my own

Self-reflection,

I think you’ll find

I have time for either.

poetry

Men and Satan

It’s sinful.

But can we tell you a secret?

We don’t care.

I know,

Punish us for feeling

No mourning,

We’ll probably enjoy that too.

Men and Satan mean nothing to us,

We just want a taste-

A sinful taste.

Come, my lover,

Lose control,

Take control,

Be fuelled by desire and

Take a heavy breath;

A heavy drink.

The day is almost over

And I need someone,

Besides me,

To feel like Hell.

poetry

Comfort

It’s funny;

You can kneel before gods

But feel more comfort in the dirt

Beneath your knees,

Than from the things they offer.

 

The grass might look greener,

But they sold you those eyes

And looks can be deceiving;

 

You might think you need them,

But they injected those chemicals.

And, these days,

Love is easy to buy.

poetry

Change

‘Why can’t I be normal?’

She yelled.

It’s not fair!’

She demanded.

But still

The mountains didn’t move when she walked;

The flowers didn’t grow to be near her;

Nor did the wind even bother to change direction.

‘I bet you wouldn’t even notice if I was gone.’

The world might not have changed for her,

But still

She managed to change the world.

poetry

Bakers and Coffee Shops

Bakers and coffee shops

Line the streets,

And I find myself

Nestling inside a few

To find a comfort

Only coffee beans and bacon

Can provide.

Warming cold hands

From frost;

Warming strangers to the

Idea of companionship

And togetherness.

Wholeness.

Mugs and teaspoons

Hold a special place

In my heart.

Teapots and saucers have

A special kind of solace

That I find myself

Nestling in

More often than not.