Tag Archives: self

Love Song.

The wail of a love song –
I recognize,
I do not pretend to understand
The shifting verse of fluid feeling
The slender twigs oft broken, the
Always that never was.

Yet, in intuition there is
That deep sense of understanding
A moment that holds, in its bosom
Only to lose it again –
The tight clasp, sand pushing out
Grip trembling, eroding slowly
Through the seams of my skin
I pretend to hold, glistening sand
Losing myself in the love I let go.

Tipping the hourglass, voluntarily
Empty now, my chest
For another hand to softly
Tip the hourglass again.


I ended my life today,
And I don’t regret it at all.

There lies the body,
With blood seeping
Outside the open door
Fallen, facing upwards
With a hand clutched in
The other.

A knife with pieces of flesh
Bathed in crimson, and skin
“Stainless Steel” with which
He cut through his wrist,
But failing to break through
Bone, only to shoddily rip off
All above it, placing it in
The grasp of the other.

His eyes are open, but his mouth
Is closed, neither smiling, nor
Recoiling in pain, rather
Expressionless, as if death was
A-coming to clear the doubt which
He had made himself off,
Adding layer on layer, finding
That in foundation, there lay
A fault.

It cracked him, pushing
That fault, opening it wider
Delving deeper, till the layers
Crumbled, the base collapsed
And the raw fracture, sewn shut
Was ripped open, and hopelessly
Torn asunder.

In that moment of blinding pain,
He saw himself for who he was,
Not what he was made out to be
The robe he fashioned, the channel
Created, gave him the glow of another,
Yet, in that moment, the fledgling remained
A fledgling, bitterly crushed.

In that moment of panic,
He wanted an end, sleepless
Nights remembered to forget,
Remembered again, and
Then that drawer was opened
And a case, taken out, next
Moment, he thought it was that
He was meant for greater things
But he wasn’t, and so
He cut his writing wand,
Right, knife in the clasp of the left.

Bled to death, that day
With no thought of
The future,
It didn’t bother him
Too much,
He had realised
The hypocrisy of it all
And lay down, beside
The door, leaving it open
Feeling the breeze, as he died.


Reverberating bloody solar pulse
Blind windows of the shattering sun
Fucked visions of soul searching solitude
Drowned dead in the system’s rut.

Rotten stench infested thought
Shine on gleam machine
Slick, sick vivid delusion
Imposed hallucinated reality.

None to none but none to none
Nothing to nothing to nothing
Dense smog unbending clarity devour
Fuck deception meaning existing.


What have I to lose?

A variable identity lost in a 

Material world…..transcendence

Seems unattainable, for security 

Is hard to find and harder

To lose.

Pain from pain, this pain begets

Pleasure…..time will heal the wounds

My body will be my slave,

It’s wants and needs

I will murder.

Rather, immortality is not etched

In engravings, stones and caves

The hard granite will erode

Set loose, decay and be lost

But the body can be sacrificed,

For the temple, my Soul

And energy will purge my senses

For what it seems, is what it’s not

The difference between I and I am,

Will harbour myself, I will find

The me from me, and

Live in peace eternally…perhaps..