I drove home from Sunday night folk club with a storm over my house in the distance. The beginning of this came to me.
Leaves and walls and windows spin,
a jigsaw broken by a falling sun.
the road home,
a breaking storm.
I wonder what we began.
There is no calm centre,
power and colour after.
Yesterday isn’t the journey,
Saturday 4th July 2015 5:04 pm
The brain is impressively hard to control
And I find that very comforting.
It is easy to worry about our masters
They only want the best for us.
So when I find that they are finding NeW aNd InViGoRaTiNg WaYs To ErOdE mE
I do not worry
I am unique
As it is me that allows them to do so
And unlike the lab rats and the fruit flies
We aren’t stuck in cages
We are free
Tuesday 29th March 2011 1:34 am
I AM MOX
If you inhale me
I will boil you from the inside
I am the worst kind.
The sickest of the sick
The most invisible
The most potent, blister skin prick
The most concentrated
This Tokyo panic plume descends
I am the grave you dug with cancered hand you lend
You architects who pretend this earth will last forever
-I’m afraid I am the alien arrived
The cooking of the ...
Friday 18th March 2011 1:21 am
These fine lines we dance around
Are dangerous markers
this self imagery is damaged
Too much alcohol
Too much stress
To many late nights
Too many things to detest
Crawl to the bathroom to scrub it away
Convince ourselves we shall never drink again
Mirrors are useless
They tell us nothing about ourselves
Only that we age
The answers are i...
Sunday 29th August 2010 1:31 pm
So you think your bolts and locks will keep me out
I can crush you anytime I like
But I prefer a lingering reclamation
It is my gentle way
My gentle nature
You shall build from the resources I have lay down
Use and abuse, on and on
So many million years ago
With Your silica and sand
Your plasters and guilded thrones
No one is immune
-I own you all
And this roo...
Friday 9th July 2010 11:50 pm
I asked her to wrap me in cotton wool,
She said would cotton sheets and a duvet do?
I said make me a child again
Because of all of this world hurts too much
Adulthood is a pale imitation,
Of childish games.
I used to make shapes out of the clouds
The rain was never unwelcome
Everything unfolded with half fear wonder
And the elements took joy in scaring us,
Tuesday 4th May 2010 7:32 pm
How deep the root
How scattered the seed
How red the fluid
From a filthy tongue, rumoured
The lining of a lung
Inhale a second sooner than before
Spawning words have gone wrong
I’m supposed to be writing poetry
But I play qwerty with grime black
And dirty keys.
I only open the locks of unease
Tuesday 13th April 2010 8:52 pm