Chasing Rhyme, Chasing Reason

Hey! Hustler

2011-03-22T07:45:00.001+02:00

Hello,

So I was just wondering if you had listened to my music yet? If not go have a look at http://www.facebook.com/heyhustler

Thanks.

All we had...

2010-12-20T13:59:00.000+02:00

So lately I've taken to put up songs I'm recording as poems on this blog, or sometimes just ideas for songs or whatever. This is a recent one, started tracking it last week...

I've been learning your smile,

Every little groove,

When you say I'd like to,

Spend more time with you,

Spend more time with you.

I've been thinking about,

The way you dance and sway,

Like your body cant contain,

When you say I like you,

When you say I like you.

So it leaves me sad,

To know, that this is all we had,

That things wont be working out with you,

It seems with me they never do,

It seems with me they never do.

I'm remembering,

Holding your hand,

Kissing your cheek,

Man life felt grand,

Oh life felt grand.

We felt so comfortable,

So well worn in,

It was much to my surprise,

When you said this is the end,

When you said this is the end.

So it leaves me sad,

To know, that this is all we had,

That things wont be working out with you,

It seems with me they never do,

It seems with me they never do.

Time will tell, if it is just me,

Or are all the girls I like crazy,

My hand needs the weight of a wedding ring,

And my bed it feels so lonely,

My bed feels lonely.

So it leaves me sad,

To know, that this is all we had,

That things wont be working out with you,

It seems with me they never do,

Oh it seems with me they never do.

Cruelty...

2010-12-17T13:07:00.000+02:00

Cruelty, has a cute little smile,
And pretty lips waiting to tear you down.

Cruelty, she'll lean you up against your car,
And tell you that everything is fine.
Then when you think it's finally safe,
She says she was never mine...

Cruelty, she will lure you in,
Make you feel like a king, but she gives you no crown,
Cruelty, she'll make a beggar of that king,
Make a man feel like he's a child.

Cruelty, she's a villian in disguise,
As she sits across the room and bats her eyes.

Cruelty, she'll cover her face and pretend,
That you're the only man that has ever mattered,
She's making a house out of glass for the two of you,
So she can lock you in when she wants it shattered.

Cruelty, she will lure you in,
Make you feel like a king, but she gives you no crown,
Cruelty, she'll make a beggar of that king,
Make a grown man feel like he's a child.

And when she's finally done,
Taking every kind word you have,
She'll take up with another unlucky guy,
She'll suck him dry.
It is just the kind of thing,
I suppose you have to do,
Because the cruellest thing I've ever seen is you,
The cruellest thing I've ever seen is you,
The cruellest being,
That I ever ever met,
Is you...

When I die...

2010-12-17T12:48:00.000+02:00

When I die I'll die for good, I promise.
Standing ground in this coastal town,
While the devil stares me down.

When I die I'll die for good, I promise.
Believing in myself, despite the mess,
I know I always did my best.

When I die I'll die for good, I promise.
Courageously challenging the face of defeat,
Never giving over to a sleepy retreat.

When I die I'll die for good, I promise.
Even if it all comes down to your words now,
I will let the truth ring out loud.

When I die I'll die for good, I promise.
No more regrets and petty threats,
and trying to make others feel at their best.

When I die I'll die for good, I promise.
You stole my momentum and forward motion,
But I regained it in my devotion.

When I die I'll die for good, I promise.
When I look at the hanging low and bloody face,
I remember I died at the throne of grace.

I am dead I am dead for good, for a promise.
And I'll hold on to hard ideals and harder love,
I'll hold onto it until every last breath,
And forge past the times I forget,
That to die is to die for good,
Just like a man on a cross of two beams of wood,
I'd die if I could,
I'd die if I should,
If I knew it would,
I'f I knew it would help you,
I'd try,
And worse yet I would die,
On the inside,
One thousand million times,
I'd cry, and cry, and cry,
If I knew it would help you out,
I'd die without a doubt.

Well at least until my metal ran out...

My kid gloves...

2010-09-19T16:26:00.000+02:00

I'm living with my kid gloves on,
Heart on my sleeve and battle worn,
No stake for territory I've never won,
I've never claimed to take new ground,
I'm always in the trenches now,
No creed to which I've ever sworn,
Except the won for which I was reborn.

I'm living with my kid gloves on,
Heart on my sleeve and battle worn,
I take up the fight and advance it forward,
But my punches don't have much weight at all,
Not that I don't have regrets,
But I know that I have done my best,
Failing was harder than all the tests.

I'm living with my kid gloves on,
Heart on my sleeve and battle worn,
Stains and cuts and grime and dirt,
Love and smiles and tears and hurt,
I tread all of these shallow trenches,
The dead, my dead I wont mention,
There is no win to this life to this endless fight.

I'm living with my kid gloves on,
Heart on my sleeve and battle worn,
I get up, fall down and get up again,
I love and lose and love my friends,
Side by side and arm in arm,
On and on we stand to fight together,
To live and love and die inside,
To find some meaning and value in this life.

I'm living with my kid gloves on,
Heart on my sleeve and battle worn,
I wouldn't dare to live any other way,
You're not really living if you're playing it safe...

Formidability...

2010-08-04T18:20:00.000+02:00

And there I appear at the apex in the sky,
majestically waiting for gravity to tear me down;
And I plummet, no I soar,
past the earths surface to the ocean floor.

I taste the sun's sweet radiance and the dark bitter dirt,
while travelling along all these emotions I've learnt;
I conjure up all my strength to breach the surface again,
I've come up for air, I've come up to swim;
I fear that hope will never leave,
and I must fight just to breathe,
but I'll fight for every breath just to be me;
I find a point of interest, there in the distance,
where hope leads my senses and I still listless.

As I begin I feel my muscles stretch and tear in between,
as I pull my once derelict body into motion;
As I break free from this rhythm and ocean,
no longer held captive by the vast great blue.

I'm fighting for this cause in which I believe,
this cause that has caused me much grief,
I'm fighting for these loved wounds and harnessed lampoons,
where I've buried the spears I meant for you,
I'm fighting the wind as it blows against me,
like a warning of the size and value of my victory,
I'm fighting with every aching muscle and bone,
to find a way back to a place we once called home.

As fall before our loving Father's throne,
I was called to this place that is not far from home,
I realise the great battle that was set before us,
and my apathy the most formidable opponent that I've ever known.

I will not always feel this way...

2010-06-15T08:19:00.000+02:00

This is how I collect my memories,
I’m collecting all my disasters,
This is the calamity I’ve been after.

Faltering on lies and lines,
That lie beneath the tides and the times,
As the depths of who I am becomes all I sea.

I am a rocky Cliffside heart,
These are my crashing high tide memories,
I’m a beautiful sight to behold as I’m slowly worn away,
Slowly worn away, marvel at my decay, my decay.

There are ship wrecks and hopes on setting sail,
All the riches of dishonesty will fail,
And nobility and all it regaled,
humbled here beneath the whales.

This is how I leave my memories,
Where brave men have died I tread,
Scared enough to walk with the dead.

Faltering without a flat line,
My life beats against every time tried,
Every step towards every beat in time.

Every beat of this beat up beating heart of mine.

I am a rocky cliffside heart,
These are my crashing high tide memories,
I’m a beautiful sight to behold as I’m slowly worn away,
Slowly worn away, marvel at my decay, my decay.

There are ship wrecks and hopes on setting sail,
All the riches of dishonesty will fail,
And nobility and all it regaled,
humbled here beneath the whales.

I am humbled in the deep, Your breakers crashing over me, I’m slowly worn away, worn away away away,
Find me humbled in the deep, Your breakers crashing over me, find me slowly decaying, decay decay, decay…

..I will not always feel this way.

There is a girl, there is a moon...

2010-06-15T08:17:00.000+02:00

There is a girl in her room,
In the sky sits the moon,
Just a reflection for the sun,
But she’s beautiful and full of fun.

She’s unaware of the heat untamed,
As the sun it burns the days,
She is a child in some ways,
But like a moon affects the waves,
She has a power over words,
But they are not so widely heard.

Like a moon reflecting light,
She has spirit and she has fight,
She shows us innocence is won,
Not on your own but by the Son.

And when she’s worn out,
Just what will she do,
She’ll relax in orbit,
Just like a moon.

All will marvel and behold her glory,
But she’ll downplay her part in her own story.

She is a girl much like the moon,
She has craters, she has wounds,
Unlike the moon she is not a rock,
And her heart is much more soft.

I’ll pray her Healer takes her soul,
And makes her whole and makes her whole

Call me shipwreck...

2009-12-23T17:07:00.000+02:00

OH HELL BREAK OUT! Overturn my life, shipwreck shipwreck is what I’m all about. OH MURDUROUS CONSPIRACY! As apathetic as me, you rob my life without completely finishing.

I’m lost at sea, I’m clinging to this plank as if one good thought could keep me afloat. You are a storm to me, between the waves and the sea, where drowning comes easily but why oh why do I cling so tightly so needily. It’s just this one thought. I’m ashamed of the ship wreck as if it was my fault but there is too much wreckage to cover up now, oh vicious ocean face why don’t you wash it away. OH STORM IN THE CLOUDS! Where are you now? No thunder and lightning to humble the proud. OH MAJESTIC SUN! SHOW YOUR FACE, but would either of you win this fight and take your place. While I tread water here in this overcast life of lies that spoke and cracked my spine, just a head a little above water. No I won’t drown but for who am I paddling now. OH SHARK WITH YOUR TEETH! Why so afraid of such easy prey, but all this water strangely keeping you at bay. OH GREEN WATER SURFACE! What is the purpose of all this misery you conspired to cost me. Why and when and how and what for? I think this evil is worse than death, you leave me here to think about it.

OH FOREIGN SHORE CONCEALING YOURSELF! Where are you now I long for your bitter sand. OH SHORE BREAK WITH YOUR ROUGH SALVATION! Slam me on this rocky beach destination, reefs and cuts, blood and guts. My life a wreck, call me shipwreck shipwreck, what the heck! What did I do anyway?! I carve out days on palm trees, trying to adhere to my sanity and my nails chip from uneven bites and foraging. My time well spent just worrying. I eat fish with sand, and fruit with bugs and my night fires never burn long enough. Here I am just waiting for a sign, a ship to hail down, or a quick death in the night. But now I curl up and hope, that the wolves and alligators don’t see all my smoke. That light would only bring light near, and that these little nightly flickers don’t show the streams, of water my heart holds back endlessly. My face, dry, hardened, burnt and rough, it seems each day asks for too much.

OH GOD! OH FATHER! OH LOVING ONE! Are you listening to me, are you listening to anyone?

I AM the wrist...

2009-11-22T10:59:00.000+02:00

Well this has also become a song in the meanwhile. I like the idea's in this poem. It's kinda complete as it stands now, but I might explore it later and make it more complete.

I am a voice, I am a scream,

I am nothing to you, but I am EVERYTHING.

I am a fog horn in this deep thick mist,

I am not the knife, I am the wrist.

I am willingly defenseless against your callous heart,

you cut me so deep, but I make no demands.

I’ve come down lower than this,

I’ve knelt down to pick up many sons,

I AM the Kingdom come.

I am the victor and the unsinner,

singingly sweet singing melody of the victory,

I have so willingly and lovingly fought to bring you nearer me,

unendingly my work forever done.

Run and I’ll catch you, hide and I’ll find,

you can roam the earth but never leave my mind.

Accept me and rest, find that Father truly knows best.

A Kingdom at hand,

and Father’s sons effortlessly inherit the land.

Whispering Wind.

2009-11-11T12:32:00.000+02:00

I'm not sure if that is really the title I want for this poem, but it will hold for now. I've been finding myself in the new way of writing my poems. It's fun to explore your creativity.

So in my misadventure, I was running against the wind. She caught me off guard this time. This field on a hilltop where I waste days lying in the sun, days that I don’t share with anyone. So as this wind blows, it ruffles the grassy feathers of my hilltop field, I shout against this wind my frustration unconcealed. I had written a little story that spilt out of my heart, while lying up on my field. But this wind is so confused she took my story away, she took the pages all apart. I ran in tactless torment. I fought with fearful fists. How did I lose concentration and end up in a mess like this. I’ll never form the words again the way they were on those pages. I’ll never find the inner means and desire and concentration. I’ll never repeat those same words, damn this damnable wind to damnation!

I found just one page while the others blew away, but I didn’t recognize this piece of the story. Without its other parts, this incompletion held nothing but my mourning. I look up to the clouds, with anger in my eyes surely they should’ve paid me warning on this bright blue day, of the wind that was coming my way; but these pure white puffy clouds, don’t have much to say. Inside I’m like a storm but this day doesn’t reflect my inner form; except for one boy on a hilltop field, it seems as peaceful as if wars were never fought. I hold my one page against this wind, I can’t fight her now. I open my hand and she rips the page from it, whips it right past my face. A little sting, a little bleeding, the small but painful kind a paper cut would bring; but not the kind you pay much mind, wounds and glory always meet in good stories.

The wind dies down. She is now just a gentle breeze, her confusion seemingly appeased. She blew once again like she used to, like the times I enjoyed her gentle whisper. But now I’m a boy without a story standing alone on this hilltop field. Why did I let her take my story, why did I give her the very last bit? To begin this new journey that has no set direction, to find all of the pieces. To find my pages textured with the destinations that she gave them. I turn and start my walk without the certainty of finding anything. But certainly I’m certain, that something great lies before me. This is my misadventure to start running with the wind.

Hold this ground like brothers do

2009-11-06T19:27:00.000+02:00

I’m here, I’m here, I’m always here.

Once the decision was made I took my place and stayed.

I fit in between all my brothers, shoulder to shoulder this is the ground we’re holding.

Grit and dirt might get in between us, but grit and dirt holds this family together.

We’re not perfect, but we’re similar, we came from the same place.

Now we’re holding firmly together in this same space.

We lost some brothers on the way, some far some near,

But I got this feeling, like fear, that we’ll never see any of them again.

They made their own stand on their own ground and we’ll never hear their stories.

Now some say don’t cry over spilt milk, but I do when it’s never wiped up.

We’re the first to notice when you lose your grip.

While I’ve never been chastised for your mistakes, just who’s responsible for this mess.

But here I am I never change my face, I never manipulate.

But then again even on my best days, I may show just a dim reflection.

But walk on, walk by, walk all over me, I’ve got my brothers and together we’ll stand.

We’ll hold this ground as long as we can, without accepting the knowledge of a fate not our own.

But this is the strength we’ve shown, we’re here, we’re here, we’ve always been here.

Upside Down...

2009-10-29T14:59:00.000+02:00

In the morning it will seem clearer, than the darkest night that befalls us. The darkest night before us. The darkest night before. The darkest night I lost myself and let my grip slip a little more. The darkest night I cling to you with the cold grass between my toes. The darkest night thorns lie beneath the lyres’ green meadows. In the morning this will seem clearer, of this I’m fairly certain. But here I am in this night, under hells darkest curtain. This darkest night where nothing makes sense and I feel like I’m forgotten, and the people who remember me most will ask me to leave. Something I may just do to keep the darkest kind of peace. The darkest night will end, and the morning will come.

Perspective will change but this is the portion I’ve won. To battle the darkest night I’ve lost this battle still, but to try not to fight seems to have no appeal. This is where I hold me, this is where I reach out to you, where nothing makes sense and it all seems so out of place. Why doesn’t this just fit in line with all of our experience, this cloudless darkest moonless night where some things just don’t disappear. Why won’t this quite go the same, why do I seem singled out, to stand here in this darkest night, mind my step and hold out for the sunlight. Daylight. Where my dreams are dawning, in a world we’re forming.

In a world turned upside, lying on my back on this ground, seems closer to where I was found.

The Loner...

2009-10-28T20:50:00.000+02:00

I should save me from myself, because I keep tearing me down.
All the way down.

I should save me from myself, but for who's sake.
I passed you on the way down.

I'll shout hosanna myself, all the way down.
Hosanna was never meant to be a lonely sound.

I should save me from myself, but I never had a chance.
I never could do anything right anyway.

I should save me from myself, but I've nearly given up.
I put my nose in the corner and turned my back to yours.

I'll shout hello myself, in this lonely corner.
But hello always wanted a response for it's owner.

But I've always been the loner...

For her...

2009-08-02T12:47:00.000+02:00

For her, I wish I could make fairy tales come true,
Erasing all of the black, and all of the blue,
For her, I wish I could make,
The wildest dreams of her youth,
And bring her back away from every bruise.

For her, I'd fight armies, behind the nights closed doors,
So she wouldn't have to hide anymore,
For her, I would wipe and gather every tear from the floor,
If I could put them back in place,
When only good memories were stored.

For her, I would push forward to right all that is wrong,
And bring back her lost child hood, long since gone,
For her I would take the pieces, of every good thing made undone,
I would stitch them back together,
To present them as whole, as new, as one.

All these things seem to be impossible at first,
I'll admit I have no power to fix up all the hurt,
But I'll chip at the cracks on the surface,
Revealing her true value and true purpose,
When this mask is broken away,
She'll shine like the sun on the sea,
Out of a night time of loss,
She'll awake to a morning,
glistening,
With possibility...

One Day When I'm Gone

2009-05-12T13:54:00.000+02:00

One day when I'm gone,
When all my dreams go wrong,
I'll find my life was spent,
Chasing after my friends.

One day when I'm gone,
I won't be forgotten for too long,
I'll find in my reflection,
They gave me up with no objection.

One day when I'm free,
There will be no search parties for me,
No single torch or flare,
No loving embrace to show they care.

One day when I'm free,
No more ambiguity,
No more yes and no, go with the flow,
And just put on a real big show.

One day when I leave,
My heart and mind will be at ease,
No more distraction from His peace,
And no more friendly enemies.

I'm convinced I will fair well,
Once I've said my farewell,
But until that day has come,
Father,
Keep my eyes fixed on your Son.

Wage this Love

2009-01-14T20:44:00.004+02:00

This is one of the few openly Christian poems I've written. I hope you all (and by all I mean the one or two random people a year who stumble on this blog) enjoy it.

I don’t know if I’ve ever been so afraid,
When love and fear stand face to face,
Bitter enemies at war in me,
Tearing me open right at my seams.

I don’t know if I’ve ever felt so brave,
When love and fear stand face to face,
I’m a fire raging against my chains,
Swearing I will never be the same.

I don’t know if I’ve ever felt so alone,
When love and fear come to blows,
I’m a fist striking against my own dreams,
Desperate for God to bring His peace.

I don’t know if I’ve ever felt so alive,
When love and fear stare into each others eyes,
I may not have stirred up this fight,
But I wont leave here without a resolution tonight.

I’ll wage this love against this fear,
And come out on top for God is near,
I’ll break control and it’s desperate lies,
Embraced by freedom, I’ll cling to this life,
There’s no more strength within this soul,
There's no more strength within these bones,
But only hope is all I have left,
And only hope in My Father and My Father alone.

Grave in my heart

2008-10-20T21:01:00.002+02:00

There's a pit in my stomach,
Give me nothing less,
There is a grave in my heart,
A deep whole in my chest.

Lonely,
I am sad if only,
They would just disown me,
The pretense is droning.

Coldness,
I am unsettled and unearthed,
Consistently under estimating,
My own value and my own worth.

Desperate,
But I wont say a word,
I've been dying inside,
But you havn't heard.

Drowning,
But I cant look up,
Your hand on my back,
And my strength is not enough.

Terrified,
What if I'm alone?
And the simple truth:
I cant make it on my own.

Conflicted,
What kind of choice is this?
What if I'd rather not choose?
What if I give it a miss?

There is a pit in my stomach,
Give me nothing more,
There is a grave in my heart,
A deep hurting sore.

I'll be your friend most of all.

2008-08-28T11:08:00.002+02:00

I wrote this for one of my best friends. It's the first time I've ever written a poem about a friend that was positive. In the past all my poems for friends came from a very negative place, usually after being hurt by them.

I’ll be love, I will defend,
I’ll be a shield, I’ll be your friend,

I’ll be a soldier, right at your side,
I’ll be an army, in which to hide.

I’ll be a hand, to take yours,
I’ll be an arm, to pull you from the floor.

I’ll be words, to help you stand and walk,
I’ll be ears, when you need to talk.

I’ll be a shoulder, when you need to cry,
A strong embrace, on which you can rely.

I’ll be on your side, even when I’m right,
I’ll love you still, if we ever fight.

I’ll be used, to help you through,
I don’t mind, if it’s by you.

I’ll be all of this and more,
But I’ll be your friend,
most of all.

Quiet Mornings.

2008-07-16T14:52:00.005+02:00

It's been a while since I've posted anything up here. So no one reads this thing anymore, they just stumble on it now and then I think. So I hope this will be useful to someone.

Quiet Mornings

Quiet mornings have always seemed so intimidating,
Quiet mornings I have never been anticipating,
My heart is not my own for the taking,
But my feet hold firm, my nerves aren’t shaking.

This quiet morning birds sing beneath my peace,
This quiet morning has its a cold breeze,
My heart I now have put at ease,
But my mind is clear, to seek release

Quiet mornings never seemed so loud,
Quiet mornings when some thoughts are not allowed,
My heart desires to roar and resound,
But my resolve still stands to keep it firmly ground.

This quiet morning is the chance of a brand new day,
This quiet morning my fears have washed away,
To run and dare and dream for more,
To dust off my knees, to get off the floor,
To risk is love, to not is stress,
I’d rather disappear than try for less,
If I set my sights and try and fail,
At least I’ve lived, my love is not frail,
I can’t change the world, I can’t even change one mind,
But perhaps today I realised,
Sometimes chance just takes time.

These are Good Days for Hunting

2007-06-12T01:26:00.000+02:00

So today is the first time in a while that this blog is being updated. I've had an idea in my head for a poem for the last few days so I'm gonna try write it now, I hope it turns out alright.

There has been a buzz in the air lately,
A word on the street, people have been getting excited.
I've heard the talk, and it seems to be getting louder,
It's doesn't seem to be a secret, the news seems to be out there.

It seems as though I've been hearing it for quite some time,
Now it seems everyones waiting,
They'll be talking and someone will say:
These are Good Days for Hunting.

It seems as much as everyone knows the phrase,
The facts still seem to be a mystery,
I've heard of stories like this before,
The ones that seem passed down from legend.

Everyone wants to know,
We're seeing it on the tv, Hearing it on the radio,
Even the newspaper healines read:
These are Good Days for Hunting.

Fathers spending time with their sons will tell them,
Sons will listen in wonder, enthralled by the tale,
Some don't want to hear and shun the very thought,
Others can't hear enough, they speculate and weave the tale.

As the story grows the whispers get louder,
People don't seem to be able to sit still these days,
Some have taken to running through the streets exclaiming:
THESE are Good Days for Hunting!

Years from now will we wonder about these days,
Or will they never end,
Is there some success to be gained here,
Some tale for the grand kids, one for the history books.

We all seem to be waiting for this moment,
Never considering that it might never come,
We clench our destiny in our fists, and we yell at the sky:
THESE ARE GOOD DAYS FOR HUNTING!

And this is chaos inside of me,
I'm sure I started this all,
They could see it in my eyes,
People could feel it.
I'm sure thats how it all began.

I've started something that was started long before me,
I just woke up one morning and confidently knew,
And because I knew, I just had to say it,
I had to make it real, I held my fist to my chest and said:
these are good days for hunting...

Long time coming

2007-02-07T11:08:00.000+02:00

Here's a tangent. It's some digital artwork I did for another blog. Click to make it bigger and prettier.

Traverse

2006-11-21T11:48:00.000+02:00

This is one of my favourite poems. For no particular reason. It also nearly got published twice. The first time I procrastinated with the authors release form until it was too late. The second time I decided I didn't want to get it published in the particular publication that was interested, so I didn't send in the authors release on purpose. (Edit: Well balls to that apparently they decided they would publish it anyway. I'm very disappointed. I really didn't want to be associated with that particular publication.)

Has anyone heard of Mat Kearney, if not check out his song "Girl America", I don't know what genre to call him, acoustic rap? Tyron and Ross will definitely say pop.

Traverse

I have been done and dusted,
Cold in my heart where I have trusted.
Throw up my hands it's hardly fair,
Call out for help shoot off a flare.
Thunder in dark skies and thunder in my heart,
Fall on gravel roads; I began with a hard start.
Clawing my way to this mountain top,
Hardened hands from struggling, hardened heart when I stop.
Crying at a difference in equality,
Dieing in deep pool of iniquity.
Falling down, discarding crowns, but you never let me drown.
Through the depths I wade, through the depths I've made, too fast I fade,
Thank God, you save.
Bound in misery, I forget about destiny, I create a new history.
Fists on distant shores, fists in church halls, fists make new bruises on old sores.
Love expiring, love in the line they're firing, love they're no longer buying.
Built up on selfishness, fed on desire,
They build their little towers, they try to get higher.
I am no longer in that contest, no longer in conquest,
No longer in pursuit, searching out for a silver lining, a lifestyle of whining and dining.
No longer do I crave what is not yet dust, what has not yet fallen away,
I don’t want what will never remain, I want it your way, I live for your day.
On a bended heart on bended knees, I struggle against apathy,
It is my own personal hypocrisy, but this is the trophy snapshot I've taken,
I stand one foot on top of me, pose for the flash I’ve got victory.

A Thought for Food

2006-11-13T12:24:00.000+02:00

Sheesh! The netty netty is slow today. Damn you rain for interfering with my signal. Sorry so late my beloved readers. Today is the second of the only two light hearted poems I ever wrote. Again all blame lies at the feet of Douglas Adams. Stay tuned though thursday I will post up one of my favourite poems.

A Thought for Food

My food looked up at me from my plate,
It SCREAMED for mercy,
Trying to avoid its fate.
But I couldn't hear it scream:
"Dont eat me please!",
Because I couldn't understand foodenese.

Next time you have supper, breakfast or lunch,
Consider the pain of your food as you munch.

Do they want to be eaten?
Do they want to freeze?
Do they want to be put in an oven?
To bake at 200 degrees.

Why should we not let them grow old,
mouldy, green and white,
You would not like to be eaten alive,
Stopped, from living out the whole of your life.

So next time you have a meal,
Be it fruit, veggies or meat,
How about a moments silence or prayer,
To be thankful and honour the food that you eat.

Forecast of Pain

2006-11-09T12:31:00.000+02:00

Hello mense. Sorry to my masses and masses of readers for the late update. This is from my much darker days, when I struggled with depression. It's kinda raw, and it's one of my earlier poems so its kinda unpolished. But at least it's honest. Man depression sucks to your asma.

Forecast of Pain

Thunder
So very loud
Then it begins to rain,
And another gloomy day
Washes in
With all its pain,
My mood
It sinks ever lower
And I begin to think my life
Is nearly over.

And it wasn't you
Who said I couldn't make it,
But it was you
Who tried to fake it.
And this friendship turned thorny weed
Grows even stronger
When I bleed,
Especially on those rainy days
When all my hopes and dreams
Wash away.

And just when things couldn't get more bleak
They forecast rain
Everyday of the week.

Old-fashioned Western Gunfight

2006-11-06T08:57:00.001+02:00

Monday back to the grind for some. I work weekends so I don't know about your blessed lives. I thought I would put something lighthearted up. Why did I write a meaningless poem such as this I don't know, blame Douglas Adams. Also don't be afraid to leave negative (but polite) commentary about my poems. I'm not just posting here for headgrow purposes. I want to get better; for that I need critics.

Ps.Tyron, I'm working on the zombies, but for now here is cowboys.

Old-fashioned Western Gunfight

The leaves fall in Autumn,
The flowers bloom in spring,
I wonder what villains this summer will bring.

As the clouds part
To reveal the sun,
And the brilliant white light, reflects off his gun.

This man of the law,
The sheriff of his town,
All his enemies lay buried, six-feet underground.

As long as his gun
Is right by his side,
He has no fear, no doubt in his mind.
That there is no villian,
Too fast, or too smart,
He'll never miss, as he aims for the heart.

When winter encroaches,
And snow begins to fall,
All the enemies of our town will leave once more.

Until next year,

Around the same time,
They'll crawl back with one thing on their mind,
To challenge our sherrif
On a dry hot summers day,
In that old-fashioned,
western,
gunslingers way.

Broken Man

2006-11-03T07:53:00.000+02:00

So I've decided to not post up any sketches here for the mo. I've just joined the Sketchbook Project(click on the link, it is good to do so). So I want to concentrate on that before I start posting drawings up here. Also I've changed the new poetry days to Monday and Thursday. The reason for suc a gap is so that peeps can digest it or something. Oh who am I kidding, it's to give me a break. Seriously though I want this blog to run for a while so I cant post up poems more frequently than that. I'm still struggling to figure out what poetry I want on the site, today's one is a bit darker with a little hope sprinkled in.

Broken Man

Broken man builds a glass house,
Broken man hears rumours of love,
Broken man with an open heart.

Broken man has a hope,
Cut from paper thin love,
Broken man feels the sting.

Broken man puts on his happy mask,
No ones fooled, they just pretend,
Broken man sees a happy mask on all of them.

Broken man fears only one thing,
Words built from nothing,
Broken man with a broken spirit.

Broken Man is very brave,
Broken Man looks at the stars,
Standing on his own grave,
Broken Man’s hope stretches far.

Broken Man with nothing more to give,
Broken Man needs to be on his knees,
Standing on a promise to live,
Broken Man gives love for free.

Broken Man in an alien land,
Broken Man doesn’t accept defeat,
Standing on a new design,
Broken Man needs to be complete.

Broken Man is unafraid of death,
Broken Man is burning inside,
Standing with nothing left,
Broken Man knows no place like home.

The Sewn Sorrow

2006-10-30T09:08:00.000+02:00

So Day2 I don't even know if I have readers. It's really hard deciding what to go up. I especially don't want to throw my best punches with no one in the ring. Todays poem is the second one I wrote. It's still a favourite of mine. As you'll no doubt guess it's about a girl. Hope you like:

The Sewn Sorrow

I am the sewn sorrow.
I hang my head;
What will you say tomorrow,
or will it be today instead?
My heart hangs in th balance,
A gift for you I've said.
Your heart hangs in the balance,
Protected by the negative thread.
Lay your heart on the silver weave,
Take a chance on me.
On their own things will grow,
and then the golden weave will show.

Am I the worthy sewn one,
To make the negative thread undone?
Can I stand above the rest,
Sew your heart into my chest?
Or will I be left alone?
Cold, tasteless, empty, un-sewn.

If your heart says no,
Then deal to me the crushing blow.
But if your heart tells you yes,
Then tell me quick so I may know.
If you never try the silver weave,
How can your heart ever believe,
That there is such a thing as love,
On this earth,
Or in the heavens above?

All you will have is simple fears,
And brought this sewn sorrow to tears.
I whisper to you the fragile cotton,
Hoping this message is not forgotton.

How complicated are you?

2006-10-28T00:39:00.000+02:00

How complicated are you?

This is me being ordinary,
But dont mistake me for simple,
I'm complicated.

I'm a slow learner at best,
But I'll hold out my arms to break your fall,
Even if it's unappreciated.

I break things with a shy smile,
Don't hate me for my mistakes,
I'm not perfect as I've indicated.

I pull out my hair to please the masses,
I don't speak up when it's important,
Waiting until all my best choices are eliminated.

I wash my hands obsesively,
But my clothing lives on the floor,
I'll clean that too after I've procrastinated.

This is me being me,
Even if I sounded a bit like you,
It just means you're complicated too.