SOME POETRY FOR YOU / 1 April 2008
Some people have asked that I add some of my poetry to this blog, so here goes:
let’s go fly a kite &
see wombs reject clouds
I’ve got the hole word in my hand
crucified by candy floss
I throw out the rubbish
and find my dreams
which ones are recyclable, I don’t know.
Second-hand slumber is not so bad,
sleeping in your dreams is good enough
Something must be rested
Do you realise you never look in your diary in dreams
you always know what to do next.
Waking is putting on the body again
I never seem to find one that fits.
The smile is cut out to provide a spyhole
my paranoia gets stuck between my teeth
It’s a grind.
I am hungry now.
I have fallen down a hole
surviving on catatonic toothpaste
till my rescue.
My silent screams have fresh breath.
welcome to my dream
there is no admission fee
and you will leave something behind anyway
THE LIBEL OF SANITY
I am not an open book. But you can read me in the Braille of crumbling walls, if anyone bothers to feel, to feel.
is getting deeper
peel the layers
the colour scheme of dreams
Empty rooms have their lullabies. Empty rooms have their dreams.
My stream of consciousness is chlorinated, sanitised for public use, but look under the surface, dive deeper, get under my skin, come into my dark corners and see how I judge the world.
I stand because of these walls, but I can never leave these doors. My head is in the clouds, but I am stuck to the ground, I would like to weigh myself in mid-flight. But I am like a bird trying to fly in set concrete.
The libel of sanity. Can you prove reality exists in a court of law? Where are the witnesses? Where is the evidence? Except the invented evidence. You build the walls and say reality exists within these walls? Take the walls away and what have you got?
The jury is out.