Spokenword (Remove filter)


I still see it
the light the colour
letters and numbers
and all things black
is back
a vacant hole
where heart should be
and all for naught
I swallowed whole
the empty place
I know so well
how it owns me now
the silent ache
the constant break
inside my brain
endless questions
no answers to frame.


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I'm just a lost fool,
looking to die,
looking to sleep,
looking for something
I can keep
looking for me,
looking inside
too much too soon,
too high to fly,
burns the sky,
the light it blinds
the closet is a hole
in which the soul
opens whole
look inside,
red white absorbs
the night
is always gold
when it glows.


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Pass the Parcel

Time is the essence of sin
orange blue
my cloudy oblivion
a line in the dark
a cross in the sand
the only place
I ever found myself
was in a high late at night
maybe that's a lie
there was one thing
but that was different
I was different
I used to be easier
I don't like to be so black
I can't deny
the thoughts in my mind
when I think about you
almost all the time
I wonder why
I ...

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Slipping Sand

Burning up in the desert sun
I come undone, I want to run
but the sand slips when I lose my grip
and I sink in time blinded in the light
denying inside my heart on fire.
I get no sleep and I lose my feet
out in the deep I can’t breathe,
memory creeps
and my brain’s full of heat
drowning in the bleak,
yearning to be me,
longing to be free.
All the words inside I
can’t say
burn and bur...

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The water is good,
helps go back to the beginning
I remember my existence there
I went back 20 years,
time has no meaning
ticking crazy always
in the head
is the blue of my dread.
Used to have walls all tall
now nothing there
to absorb the fall.
Always thinking in rhyme
feel like I'm losing my mind
love to dive times five
1 in 9 is fine
love is sacred
double three following me

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Tick Tock

I write you many poems 
you inspire me so deep 
my heart 
at your alter peaks 
I want nothing 
but to complete 
I'll drown myself 
out in the sea 
cause' I'll die if I can't be 

give me what I need 
so I can breathe 
I'm choking on my art 
at your feet.

The moon melts to three
and my fire drowns 
inside of me.
I'll not come back, 
I can't come back 
till a sign 

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I die inside each lonely night
I take drugs to get high
never have I
take so I don't fly 
I can't I can't 
ay ay
pie in the sky
fuck it why try
I can't get by
I never sleep
hurts to move
hurts to lose
nothing really exists
all the walls are melting
back inside my mind
I don't think
I can make it out
so many times
I asked for help
got nothing
everything broke
so I help myself

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PaperMate (explicit)

I am my own best friend, 
me and my burning pen. 
Together alone 
through everything 
we have been,
my papermate and I 
find myself, I lose my way,  
I lose myself, I find my way, 
I come back around again 
then square I go, 

Cut the nose, spite the face, 
I got pride, I got space, 
not a number, not a mistake. 
Slave never 
a sheep black as me 
so black I am the light, 

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Lost in the summer haze 
still filtering out those greys,
still absent in waste, 
vacant in change 
rearranging my stain 
an inherent pain 
the colour 
My bones leak into my soul, 
the mud absorbs everything 
but the flow 
and the black fog 
still follows me home.

The desert can be bleak 
especially when the colour
constantly leaks
and the sa...

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Crescent Moon

I live on the dark side 
of the moon 
in the crescent blue. 

I live my life in reverse, 
hamster on the wheel. 
Time passes still.

An absurd 
monomaniacal obsession 
leaves me stranded 
every time, 

lost in an ocean abyss 
sinking in my sinking ship, 
sick at heart, sick of mind, 
sick of time 

passes still

on the dark side 
of the crescent moon 
I bloom in blue 
just f...

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addictionsBlue Moondesirespokenword

3 Write

3Write is a new free monthly writing event at the heart of the local community in Ashton-under-Lyne. It takes place every first Saturday at Ashton Library starting at Noon on Saturday 5th March, and is open to people of all ages and abilities.


The premise is 3 themes per session, and 3 styles of writing per session. We then 3Write. With the growing spoken word scene in Tameside (with big p...

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I wasn't dead,

just never alive

Turner Prize

gold medal

all for a dive.


A dyspraxic in a speedboat

as I struggled to swim

in shark infested waters

but I won't let them win.


The rewards of success

for creating a mess

an unmade bed

for an economy's left.


People can study

and some even praise

others are starstruck


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