23 April 2013
incompletely articulate
there is a new podcast called Incompletely Articulate in which i contribute poems and blather. the first episode is now live - why not check it out? incompletelyarticulate.tumblr.com
28 November 2012
what she has
she has one devil horn
and one angel wing
she has one unicorn
mane knit into a string
she has one slice of bread
and one jar of peanut butter
she has one cigarette
and one cigar cutter
she has one mermaid gill
and one bluish ring of zinc
she has one phoenix quill
and one vial of blue-blood ink
she has one bar of soap
and one surgeon's snare
she has one ray of hope
and one cloud of despair
she has one sod of peat
with the footprint of a boot on
she has one tiny sheet
from a swedish faerie's futon
she has one small wooden casket
where all of these reside
she has one unending task it
is to never look inside
and one angel wing
she has one unicorn
mane knit into a string
she has one slice of bread
and one jar of peanut butter
she has one cigarette
and one cigar cutter
she has one mermaid gill
and one bluish ring of zinc
she has one phoenix quill
and one vial of blue-blood ink
she has one bar of soap
and one surgeon's snare
she has one ray of hope
and one cloud of despair
she has one sod of peat
with the footprint of a boot on
she has one tiny sheet
from a swedish faerie's futon
she has one small wooden casket
where all of these reside
she has one unending task it
is to never look inside
25 June 2012
22 March 2012
just writing this scared me
i've never spoken most of what i feel
because i'm terrified of brain drugs
i've learnt to fake an evenness of keel
because i'm terrified of brain drugs
my gp's on a uni campus 200 miles away
and i've not been there since registration day
because i'm terrified of brain drugs
although there's stigma i am not ashamed
i'm just terrified of brain drugs
i'm not protecting someone who i blame
i'm just terrified of brain drugs
there are people i love too much to want to see distressed
but that's not the the reason there's so much i can't confess
i'm just terrified of brain drugs
i don't know how much brain they might adjust
that's why i'm terrified of brain drugs
i couldn't muster that level of trust
that's why i'm terrified of brain drugs
i wouldn't part with the hardest of the feelings that i feel
if i had to trade the certainty that who i am is real
that's why i'm terrified of brain drugs
06 October 2011
games
games
quit playing games with my heart
it doesn't understand the rules
and when you explain them
you keep leaving out important aspects
until you need them to win
quit playing games with my heart
it's neither round enough
nor robust enough
to be a suitable ball substitute
quit playing games with my heart
it isn't square enough to be a die
nor small enough to be a counter
nor flat enough to be the board
quit playing games with my heart
or if not
at least let it win occasionally
as requested by @debsa
quit playing games with my heart
it doesn't understand the rules
and when you explain them
you keep leaving out important aspects
until you need them to win
quit playing games with my heart
it's neither round enough
nor robust enough
to be a suitable ball substitute
quit playing games with my heart
it isn't square enough to be a die
nor small enough to be a counter
nor flat enough to be the board
quit playing games with my heart
or if not
at least let it win occasionally
as requested by @debsa
04 August 2011
WORK IN PROGRESS - the saddest dance
watching the way her body weeps
mesmerised by each melancholy movement
a physical metaphor for how she keeps
strong in every weakness and weak in every strength
how can i tell her:
i'd like to write you
a song to dance to
that's sadder than the saddest song
anyone ever danced to before
a song about heart-ache and heart-break
and dubious decisions that your heart makes
a song of love and loss and loneliness
and choking when you choose to take a chance
a song of pain you can't explain
that makes you want to rip thoughts out of your brain
a song about the way you make me feel
when you dance the saddest dance
although she's painfully alone
the tale she's telling's so intriguingly told
she draws me in until i feel i've always known
the intimate secrets she's secreted in her soul
and my reply is:
i'd like to write you
a song to dance to
that's sadder than the saddest song
anyone ever danced to before
a song about their mess, unfairness
and victims of a world that couldn't care less
a song of hiding behind hopelessness
and silence when you're scared to take a stance
a song of woe that floods the globe
that makes your empathy overflow
a song about the way you make me feel
when you dance the saddest dance
dance to
my song of meaningless, ennui, never seeing who to be
of wishing for admissions that the whole human condition
has a bleakness in its weakness that can pique a man to seek
for some joy to fill the void he's annoyed he can't destroy
a song that though you'll never know
the full extent of my myriad sorrows
you capture them in how you make me feel
when you dance the saddest dance
mesmerised by each melancholy movement
a physical metaphor for how she keeps
strong in every weakness and weak in every strength
how can i tell her:
i'd like to write you
a song to dance to
that's sadder than the saddest song
anyone ever danced to before
a song about heart-ache and heart-break
and dubious decisions that your heart makes
a song of love and loss and loneliness
and choking when you choose to take a chance
a song of pain you can't explain
that makes you want to rip thoughts out of your brain
a song about the way you make me feel
when you dance the saddest dance
although she's painfully alone
the tale she's telling's so intriguingly told
she draws me in until i feel i've always known
the intimate secrets she's secreted in her soul
and my reply is:
i'd like to write you
a song to dance to
that's sadder than the saddest song
anyone ever danced to before
a song about their mess, unfairness
and victims of a world that couldn't care less
a song of hiding behind hopelessness
and silence when you're scared to take a stance
a song of woe that floods the globe
that makes your empathy overflow
a song about the way you make me feel
when you dance the saddest dance
dance to
my song of meaningless, ennui, never seeing who to be
of wishing for admissions that the whole human condition
has a bleakness in its weakness that can pique a man to seek
for some joy to fill the void he's annoyed he can't destroy
a song that though you'll never know
the full extent of my myriad sorrows
you capture them in how you make me feel
when you dance the saddest dance
07 March 2011
lines and curves
some people are tangential to your life
intersecting for an instant
then continuing on the same path
as you curve away
some people are asymptotic to your life
even though the difference between you nears zero
you are destined never to coincide
intersecting for an instant
then continuing on the same path
as you curve away
some people are asymptotic to your life
even though the difference between you nears zero
you are destined never to coincide
14 February 2011
rose is
when you need advice roses are rede
whatever your question roses are redditive
for any transgression roses are redemptive
no matter the grievance roses are redressors.
they thought roses were reducent but roses are redient
roses are redoubled because roses are redoubtable.
oh, roses are redhanded
roses are redacted (roses are redolent)
from now on roses are redubbed
roses are redwood to consider roses' redition
roses are redundant because roses are redargued
- roses are reductio ad absurdum
for @rosebiggin
(an earlier draft i accidently deleted may have been better, sorry)
whatever your question roses are redditive
for any transgression roses are redemptive
no matter the grievance roses are redressors.
they thought roses were reducent but roses are redient
roses are redoubled because roses are redoubtable.
oh, roses are redhanded
roses are redacted (roses are redolent)
from now on roses are redubbed
roses are redwood to consider roses' redition
roses are redundant because roses are redargued
- roses are reductio ad absurdum
for @rosebiggin
(an earlier draft i accidently deleted may have been better, sorry)
01 February 2011
lies stick
lies stick
to your truth
like cold porridge
a day later
faster than a desperate grasp
a week later
it has become an integral part
a month later
hidden below layers of growth
do your washing up
early
to your truth
like cold porridge
a day later
faster than a desperate grasp
a week later
it has become an integral part
a month later
hidden below layers of growth
do your washing up
early
02 November 2010
philthD's 50PoWriMo
i haven’t got time or spare brain capacity to do a NaNoWriMo, but i figured that if i can write a poem and two-thirds each day then i can write 50 poems in the month of november. please help by suggesting titles for poems for me.
07 September 2010
a contribution to the last barman poet project
i am the world's last barman poet
i see the survivors drinking the fallout cocktails i create
all seven of us stinking - getting something i found or ate
the "sex in the shelter"
the "schnapps" made from melters
the "vermin hammer"
the "worm-a-jammer slammer"
i make things with sludge and soot
the "glowing squirrel"
the "three-toed foot"
i make drinks so sick and scuzzy
the "iced wee"
the "kami-khasi"
the "orgasm"
the "death spasm"
the "singer pore slime"
the "digger lime"
comrades, you're just devoted to ever liquid i've thought of
but if you want to end it
why don't you just drink the water
i see the survivors drinking the fallout cocktails i create
all seven of us stinking - getting something i found or ate
the "sex in the shelter"
the "schnapps" made from melters
the "vermin hammer"
the "worm-a-jammer slammer"
i make things with sludge and soot
the "glowing squirrel"
the "three-toed foot"
i make drinks so sick and scuzzy
the "iced wee"
the "kami-khasi"
the "orgasm"
the "death spasm"
the "singer pore slime"
the "digger lime"
comrades, you're just devoted to ever liquid i've thought of
but if you want to end it
why don't you just drink the water
08 June 2010
passed-up passport to the past
and we watched the sunrise over once familiar streets
aged now by the seeping spread of the suspicious stain
of progress
revelling in reliving familiar defeats
former glories insignificant as that tribute you're
always lacking
earth has moved three thousand million miles through space since then
doors to every moment past are locked never again
to open
leaves us wandering all night like vagrants - i say when
packing everything we own to carry to the future
let's travel light
[for glyn, sort of]
aged now by the seeping spread of the suspicious stain
of progress
revelling in reliving familiar defeats
former glories insignificant as that tribute you're
always lacking
earth has moved three thousand million miles through space since then
doors to every moment past are locked never again
to open
leaves us wandering all night like vagrants - i say when
packing everything we own to carry to the future
let's travel light
[for glyn, sort of]
08 April 2010
"are you happy?" asked arcadianlady
three small words in a simple sentence
in an empty ocean of context
my first reaction was to jump on the defence
"of course i am" my next
reaction was to focus on the worst
of my sorrows. i was left perplexed
that these thoughts - though diverse
were similarly diiferent from the real
world - each a simplistic and perverse
narrative of how i feel
each its own pretense
hidden behind its own spiel
how often do i stop and wonder if i feel happy?
how often do i stop and wonder if i feel?
how often do i stop and wonder?
how often do i stop?
how?
i used to have so much sadness that it defined a part of me
a portion that feels empty now it's dissipated
i have so many blessings and so much to rejoice in
why is it so rare to be elated?
how do i compare with those apart from me
where are the statistics collated
my mean state equates with what others are voicing
if i eschew what's skewed and weighted
in an empty ocean of context
my first reaction was to jump on the defence
"of course i am" my next
reaction was to focus on the worst
of my sorrows. i was left perplexed
that these thoughts - though diverse
were similarly diiferent from the real
world - each a simplistic and perverse
narrative of how i feel
each its own pretense
hidden behind its own spiel
how often do i stop and wonder if i feel happy?
how often do i stop and wonder if i feel?
how often do i stop and wonder?
how often do i stop?
how?
i used to have so much sadness that it defined a part of me
a portion that feels empty now it's dissipated
i have so many blessings and so much to rejoice in
why is it so rare to be elated?
how do i compare with those apart from me
where are the statistics collated
my mean state equates with what others are voicing
if i eschew what's skewed and weighted
22 February 2010
exophilic
nobody ever had a crush on me
noone ever passed me a note
noone ever wrote me a poem
noone ever looked away hurriedly
embarrassed to meet my glance
noone ever learned my details
noone ever followed me around
noone ever ran away
when they saw me see them see me
noone ever carved my name with a compass
into their desk
or their pencil case
or their bleeding flesh
noone ever sent their friend
to tell my friend
to tell me how they felt
noone ever fantasised about me
noone ever imagined marrying me
noone ever dreamed about me holding them in my arms
noone ever wondered what they could do to make me happy
noone ever spent an hour
staring at my thighs
trying to remember
every subtle curve
desperate to never forget
nobody ever had a crush on me
until the subject of my most secret
crush began to stalk
me all over the internet
and hanging out and drunken talk.
she stole me and she stole my heart
she wrote songs about me too
i should have told her from the start
the way i felt - she always knew
she
make me
feel so lucky -
imagine if nobody
ever loved me
noone ever passed me a note
noone ever wrote me a poem
noone ever looked away hurriedly
embarrassed to meet my glance
noone ever learned my details
noone ever followed me around
noone ever ran away
when they saw me see them see me
noone ever carved my name with a compass
into their desk
or their pencil case
or their bleeding flesh
noone ever sent their friend
to tell my friend
to tell me how they felt
noone ever fantasised about me
noone ever imagined marrying me
noone ever dreamed about me holding them in my arms
noone ever wondered what they could do to make me happy
noone ever spent an hour
staring at my thighs
trying to remember
every subtle curve
desperate to never forget
nobody ever had a crush on me
until the subject of my most secret
crush began to stalk
me all over the internet
and hanging out and drunken talk.
she stole me and she stole my heart
she wrote songs about me too
i should have told her from the start
the way i felt - she always knew
she
make me
feel so lucky -
imagine if nobody
ever loved me
16 February 2010
regret is the flipside of nostalgia
i've endeavoured not to have them cos they've proved no use
yet i bet we all get regrets we don't choose
seems everything i regret not doing involves music
whilst everything i regret that i did in fact do
involves girls - and most of both involve you
yet i bet we all get regrets we don't choose
seems everything i regret not doing involves music
whilst everything i regret that i did in fact do
involves girls - and most of both involve you
09 February 2010
indefinite 139 should
mute mortified
made futilely fortified
fatally beautified
bail
abort duty
daughter deified
i don't even entirely know what this is about - i just liked the way these 12 words sounded together and tried to form them into something vaguely coherent.
made futilely fortified
fatally beautified
bail
abort duty
daughter deified
i don't even entirely know what this is about - i just liked the way these 12 words sounded together and tried to form them into something vaguely coherent.
02 February 2010
green pen
you make me feel
like everything i do
with you
is better than
anything i can
even attempt
with any other implement
you make me feel
from the start
that this is art
that it would be wrong
not to pour a song
or poem
into my trivial tome
you make me feel
my tiny quirk
is a stand aganst work
because of my adoration
i'll never use you for a calculation
even if they insist
i'll never use you for a shopping list
you'll never be a tool of finance
though in the right circumstance
i may use you on the inlay of a cassette or
to set out a threat or in a love letter
if the content can just-
ify you - trust
that you'll have a mandate if
i'm feeling creative
you make me feel
you're the only stationery i adore
you've got something special at your core
like everything i do
with you
is better than
anything i can
even attempt
with any other implement
you make me feel
from the start
that this is art
that it would be wrong
not to pour a song
or poem
into my trivial tome
you make me feel
my tiny quirk
is a stand aganst work
because of my adoration
i'll never use you for a calculation
even if they insist
i'll never use you for a shopping list
you'll never be a tool of finance
though in the right circumstance
i may use you on the inlay of a cassette or
to set out a threat or in a love letter
if the content can just-
ify you - trust
that you'll have a mandate if
i'm feeling creative
you make me feel
you're the only stationery i adore
you've got something special at your core
26 January 2010
a crippling inability to accept a compliment
"i just want to say that i think that you're wonderful
i don't understand why you're not a professional"
i look at her face trying to mask incredulity
but though she's misguided there's clearly sincerity
my mind begins racing and soon i've forgotten
the myriad reasons that i'm really not one
and part of my brain that so wants to agree with her
is screaming to tell me that /is/ how things really are
a moment of madness soon cedes to lucidity
and impotent anger at my own stupidity
for daring to think that i'm out of the ordinary
that there might be anything there to commend in me
cos if i believe her i must believe equally
the many more voices who've reckoned me awfully
i laugh off her compliment trying to sound grateful
it's not really modesty just an innate wall
i don't understand why you're not a professional"
i look at her face trying to mask incredulity
but though she's misguided there's clearly sincerity
my mind begins racing and soon i've forgotten
the myriad reasons that i'm really not one
and part of my brain that so wants to agree with her
is screaming to tell me that /is/ how things really are
a moment of madness soon cedes to lucidity
and impotent anger at my own stupidity
for daring to think that i'm out of the ordinary
that there might be anything there to commend in me
cos if i believe her i must believe equally
the many more voices who've reckoned me awfully
i laugh off her compliment trying to sound grateful
it's not really modesty just an innate wall
21 January 2010
last night i dreamt that nobody loved me
we sat on a bench
on the roof terrace garden
of a flat we would never own
in a part of london that probably couldn't exist
you turned to me
with eyes glassy calm
like the surface of an ominous pond
slowly stagnating - suicide by it's own stillness
you explained it all
saying there was no love left
and you couldn't believe i hadn't noticed
how you never returned my embrace any more
yes, you explained it all
away
reciting a script
clearly honed and considered
rehearsed and redrafted
planned and perfected and plotted and passionless
you weren't sorry
you weren't going to change your mind
you weren't ever coming back
everything was packed
i didn't see you leave through the tears
flooding my vision with vaseline soft-foucs
i didn't hear you leave through the sobbing
but i knew you were gone
i woke breathless and panicked and confused to find no tears
i turned to check your presence and i held you very near
but too afraid to tell you that i'd dreamed my greatest fear
and trying not to wake you i just whispered in your ear
i love you
on the roof terrace garden
of a flat we would never own
in a part of london that probably couldn't exist
you turned to me
with eyes glassy calm
like the surface of an ominous pond
slowly stagnating - suicide by it's own stillness
you explained it all
saying there was no love left
and you couldn't believe i hadn't noticed
how you never returned my embrace any more
yes, you explained it all
away
reciting a script
clearly honed and considered
rehearsed and redrafted
planned and perfected and plotted and passionless
you weren't sorry
you weren't going to change your mind
you weren't ever coming back
everything was packed
i didn't see you leave through the tears
flooding my vision with vaseline soft-foucs
i didn't hear you leave through the sobbing
but i knew you were gone
i woke breathless and panicked and confused to find no tears
i turned to check your presence and i held you very near
but too afraid to tell you that i'd dreamed my greatest fear
and trying not to wake you i just whispered in your ear
i love you
15 January 2010
overheard "how do you make it stop when it goes blinking mad like this?"
"i can't find the off-switch"
"i didn't think there was one"
"there's always an off-switch
- they just hide it"
"maybe it's ..."
"never mind,
it seems to have sorted itself out"
"it always seems to do that
just before you get round
to switching it off"
"i didn't think there was one"
"there's always an off-switch
- they just hide it"
"maybe it's ..."
"never mind,
it seems to have sorted itself out"
"it always seems to do that
just before you get round
to switching it off"
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