leftovers

subdued cloud residing in the ethers of the day,
coffee stains
dripping from my fingertips
becoming caffienated breaths
as the day seeps away,
dizzy falling
pull the covers over my bare skin
make me feel whole
as though i’ve never felt that fleeting harmony,
lost between sheets and blankets
and warm arms held close,
pull away,
this feeling must leave me soon,
i can’t keep setting fire to the ropes,
blinking through the smoke
as the knots we tied.. disintegrate,
vanish into the dark clouds of the night sky
split ends and unfinished sentences
char my throat,
cough and choke,
relenting feelings of too many thoughts wafting through my skull
makes me feel hollow
– low
slow-burn
bites the lip, consumes my words before i can speak them

dismembering embers

fading embers disperse into the night sky
a forgotten fire
in the cold light,
the ash conceals
the words strewn across
the exploded lights
of the speckled sky,
the way we read our insides
through joining the dots in the dark,
a guided imitation of our minds,
as we dance our pains and paint our sights
to bring the fire within back to life,
the cold returns,
the day winds and curls to nothingness,
this is when we come to life,
when we ignite ourselves
surrounded by the death of
what we once created,
another sum of atoms implodes,
burns through the night,
the fire inside always burns for something,
we unearth what’s buried inside
to feed the furnace,
to cast shadows,
to share our light.

Untangling chains

Sandpaper thoughts
chip and splinter
this hollow
echo spatter, lost rhymes
collecting dust,
soft circling, stagnant, drifting

stale recollections of a past-self
been kept out in the cold too long now,
peeling like old paint,
gathering,
shelling the shredded thoughts
left unspoken,
silence the stabbing memories that flesh from the foundations,
coiling wallpaper folds over me,
fold over me,
I’m spilling all over the dry earth,
mud patches, sprouting grass,
crumbled rocks on a mosaic canvas
wrap me back together,
blood flowing, blood flooding,
hold my breath while I sink under
to recalibrate these cells into something
that resembles a whole

What do we do when our thoughts detain us,
What do we do when our thoughts detain us?
Break the chain…

I sit here wondering what your thoughts are spinning your world into today,
weaving webs and trying not to get caught in our own projections

you can be anywhere and be trapped in your own transience
the in-between of being and not being (who you once were)
tell me again who it is you want to be,
echoing through the softest wind,
in constant motion, causing commotion,
compounding holes,
disfiguring the fly-trap thought patterns

I sit here wondering what your thoughts are spinning your world into today,
weaving webs and trying not to get caught in our own projections

sometimes we’re the fly,
trying to not entrance ourselves
in the spell of pretty patterns of poisoned appeal

leap on the back of a mosquito that doesn’t give in to the yellow-green lights and supple skin

harvest honey, nestle into the flowers, look out for thorns
follow the buzz of the bee
hopscotching through honeycomb sections,
don’t stay in one place too long

What do we do when our thoughts detain us,
What do we do when our thoughts detain us?
Break the chain…

the tired beetle
makes a noose out of daisy chains
in innocent fields
tainted flowers poke out of cracked cement
spill out your brain weeds
unpick those gorse fences
all those entangling thoughts will bloom into a garden view soon

Sewing trails of love into fertile soil

Hey, I see a universe in you
– and together we be a multiverse

It’s like all the clocks in the world stop ticking,
every grain of sand turns to glass,
and the sun and the moon blink at each other just for a moment,

When I close my eyes and think of you,
I envision these endless plains of calm,
forests full of library shelves
and seashores where every gain of sand
is a whisper of kindness.

I daydream about us and road trips. Beach picnics. Spoken word. Talking late. Staying up. Laying down. Holding fast. Fucking slowly. Feeling rainforest rain on our brows. Giving each other reasons to raise them.

Ever noticed that butterflies are considered beautiful yet
moths are considered terrifying
but the butterflies you fill my stomach with
scare me more than any number of moths flitting toward a light ever could,

what I’ve found in myself for you,
is a kind of undoubtable love.
It just is. It’s just there. No name. No conditions.
No metaphors or comparisons.
Just, love.

I know you have to go away,
but while you’re still here I really want to do my best to help make what we share so full of fun and good memories, growth and happiness.

Maybe it’s the echo of a heart shattering in an empty hallway,
the memory of a loved one’s last embrace
or the taste of a lover’s last kiss,

catching passed glimpses of life before it’s lost
reminds us we can step inside them again
when we’re feeling lost,
nothing disappears
things just dissipate to infuse the world around us,
some things linger on

take the sleeve of my jacket
tuck it away, in your pocket,
feel my warmth on your skin
when I’m no longer around,
taste my kiss just a little while longer,
I promise I’ll keep you warm inside
even if it means we don’t share the same the same ground

Dissolving sandcastles

he said it hurts me too, yet
why am I the one always crying in front of you,
he said he cries in private, why
must I always be the one whose knees weaken and eyes glimmer
at your alter
I pray to you
and it’s not healthy,
weaning off you
your love is the most difficult substance to ease off of
teacherous lips, shh
just for a second,
I want to kiss you but it stings like poison nettle
prickles,
lingers, flickers but doesn’t extinguish,
burning, burning,
gets easier with time and distance, or so I keep repeating,
altered conversation, less affection,
this is good, this is painful,
those tender almonds peer into my oceans
I can’t contain the waves convulsing inside me,
I can’t keep building sandcastles without moats, around me
the grandiose structures keep dissolving,
he clasps my hand in his,
finger tips caressing my aching ligaments,
your pure feelings are tainted by my confusion
I think I love you but how can I be sure this is not another of my illusions,
to grasp onto you is to grasp onto the thing I can never hold onto,
we can’t hold onto ideas, it’s just that
sometimes we think we can —
when those ideas take form, a light beam projecting onto foreign flesh
we get excited and forget
what we see is what we feel,
our deepest desires manifest and we follow them like breadcrumbs leading to a fantastical house
but you are not home and I must learn to crawl out of your inferno
before our illusions swallow us whole,
I think I love you but
how can I be so sure that your sweetness isn’t tainted by loneliness,
I want to hold your hand when we walk along the promenade,
I want to link arms as we wander and discuss the stars
we’ve gone too far
merged our hearts
before we allowed our minds to entangle in a rapture of seeing beyond our own lenses
of wanting
life to be simpler than it ever could become
without the rapture of romance I finally see you
I’m starting to understand what you are, who you are becoming,
it took us more months than we’d like to admit to
scrub the sand from our eyes and blink into clarity,
disparate continents and tired thumbs
phone calls and text messages mask
the nuances,
can’t be technologically translated,
no tonal button that erases misinterpretation
you must say what you mean
or be done with it,
back in your arms
your laughter echoes as if it’s escaping shackles and chambers,
the curvature of your back to your butt makes me want to reach out and touch you
yet our separation separates our forms of expression
it hurts not to kiss you
but it would hurt more to reduce this bond we are reconfiguring
into a breath,
not now
but
maybe someday
I’ll feel your lips on mine and it’ll taste like honeydew and rosewater
like it did in the beginning

Sarajevo ricochet remembrance

You can still hear the echoes of screams emanating from the parks and buildings
Rattling the bridges,
Drilling through cement
Bullet holes and residual gun powder
Falling in the dust
Blood stains filled in with paint
Held as a reminder, kept as a signifier of the new found freedom of an independent state
To know unrest was no more than 25 years ago
A siege of three and a half years
Living in constant fear
The unknown interrupted with bullet shells
Bombs falling from the sky
Into civilian homes
Echoing through the fresh graves at a funeral
death becomes more death
and life is a constant question mark,
in the name of power and national identity, in the name of financial security,
civil unrest and vague border lines
It seems long ago and alien
Until
you see it,
Until
you meet those that crawled along the border line
into the mountainous forest
to fetch water and medical resources,
until
you speak to those who lived through this
who saw their family and friends laying in a pool of blood on the cement,
sniper bullets pinging off buildings like an arcade game,
bullets shooting out from fighter planes embedding into forgotten flesh
grenades breaking through the ground like man-made metiorites
this was a war on civilians,
a genocide against non-Serbs and “traitors” of a nationalistic military regime
to claim land that is united by peace rather than ethnicity,
to claim more than what is served
in pursuit of dominating
separates people from humanity
to laugh in the face of a deluded pursuit is how sarajevo survived
after 1,452 days of Serbian military besiegement

Bad feelings aren’t always bad

My soul shudders when I keep it in a cage,
every day I’m getting closer to keeping out in the fields
away from the steel bars and heavy locks,
at first freedom can feel like torture
after you’ve imprisoned yourself for too long,
I don’t like this feeling
but I take it in, it reminds me that I’m as human as you,
it doesn’t feel stable
it just feels clearer than stuffing it behind mental bars,
Cat Power is on my shoulder,
whispering husky reminders that we can only be free once we crank open our metal-heart-cages and listen to our insides,
I trail through the valleys
of far-away plains
that much of the world has forgotten about,
you wouldn’t know it unless you looked up,
amongst these narrow, hollow barrels of lost signals
there’s a starry night sky,
and we all share the same light,
peering through our own eye capsules,
rocketing through our own plains,
I guess I missed the road sign
that told me to turn left,
makes my head twist
pulls my neck away from myself,
these days I seem to trail on, sometimes for too long,
but I see more than if I’d stayed on the Google-maps-path
of life choices
and chronological societally-normal
trigger points of study, work, house and what ever follows after that,
makes me yawn before I even finish considering it,
my instincts tell me it’s all rubbish anyway,
see the tea that drips from the strainer,
I want to taste every drop
without having to clean up the dried leaves and forgotten fragments
of a passed day
so I’m learning to compile all the lost files and process them through the shredder in my brain,
to manouver the obstacles as they come my way,
so that they’ll stop
tainting today,
clouding the way,
I don’t like this feeling,
I just prefer it more than being numb.

Midnight silhouettes

Do you need footsteps clicking beside you to remind you that you have friends,
did that last text message need to be sent,
when was the last time you checked in with yourself
before 3am,
mental breakdown-hour
mind-apocolypse,
it seems too easy to say that we were only ever friends
I guess it depends on what you do between the sheets
and we just shared each other under the layers,
no whispering of secret truths,
just dreamt out our insides side by side night after night,
it seems too simple to say that we forgot the most important dates of the year,
each day leaks into the next and we remember only when it’s too late to rehash who we were,
and what does it matter,
the things we told each other before we slipped into our midnight silhouettes,
you only say half of what you mean,
leave me guessing in between,
always something left unsaid
from both ends,
you don’t drink anymore,
said it was much too easy to drown your thoughts than let them out,
breathe in toxic chemicals that extinguish the burning neurons,
I’m left alone on the dancefloor when you’re too afraid of your mind to let me in,
it seems impossible to know
and guessing never helps,
the drizzle in the phone connection disperses the transgressions we tried to spear with our tongues
and lick off each others’ lips,
we told each other every secret we’d ever bundled inside ourselves
except the centrefold of our hearts,
you could never say we were only ever friends.

United States of Ventriloquists

​These circulating fish have teeth now and they know how to bite,
these rules have got us now and the keys are out of sight,
the Rothschild family is bathing in gold,
while bombs are dropping in Africa and the middle east,
blockades stomping over peace,
sending the best cameras and microphones and robotic reporters
to tell us that Africa and the middle east aren’t safe but the us will fix it,
the Western world grows from the seeds of fear and greed
supplanted by a poisoned seed,
believing that it must be Africa and the middle east that are the danger to ye,
Mk-ultra drilled through the left side brain of society,
we’re on the verge of an insidious WW3.

Blinded to see that the real enemy is
one part complacency
two parts widespread denial of logical conspiracies.

It’s all a game
back and forth,
weave around and take out the pawns,
can no longer hide behind the “I vote” stickers of a false democracy,
horses and sheperds in their high castles
guard the ivory towers that keep the powerful wealthy and the majority deceived,
pay attention to them not those in the pent houses, not those on TV.
Check mate.
We’re here again,
swimming with piranhas and hungry sharks,

there are more than two choices
there are more than two choices
there are more than two choices,

if you want to be free you must admit to yourself
that the reality you revel in is only an illusion,
everything is an illusion,
as long as you are aware of that, you can change the illusion.

Trust the media as much as you trust the government.
Do your research. Learn history from many perspectives.
Listen to the unpopular opinion.
Let’s not divide, nor condemn,
let’s stand by each other.