Raindrops

There is a sadness leaking in my heart.

It doesn't drip like a whisper,

But empties in a scream.

Looking through a blue hue,
At the regrets, pouring down

Down, Down

Through a single stream.

One note, one wave,

A whole entirety

Summed up in such a singular world.

Echo upon echo,

The river pours,

A chemistry of darkness,

In poetic slumber.

But it's such a beautiful world.

Diagnosed silence for a little too long.

Weep, melody weep.
The drifting keeps on sowing borders.
Weep, melody weep.
The forestry is growing,
And the horizon sinking
With silhouettes of grey.

Secret

Girl wants to pray,
She couldn't say
All the things she wanted to
In that one day;
Where the smoke had departed
And the broken hearted
Had decided she wasn't one of them.
She declined an invitation,
A kind of aspiration
She once had but lacked concentration,
Determination, preservation,
To say yes.
But now she wants to shout,
Take me out of here,
This darkness
I'm sinking into
Ain't somewhere to stay.
I'm just a girl,
Working all I can,
Make this sinister shadow
Go away.
But no one hears her,
And now she's alone,
Enduring the scaly skin
Of a snake
Biting into her,
Blinding her face
Like a black scarf;
Painting her eyes in a haze,
Fixing her gaze
To a muddy sepia
Of a dead world.




It's like an endless forest
In a twisted fantasy.
Without a final page,
Deep hypocrisy
That all fairy tales
Have knights and kings,
Brought up that way
To see splendour of things
Diamond rings,
That say the words that you don't want to.
Things that might be true,
Things that might be hidden away from you.
Bad nation.
Lies to generations,
Everything's fine, so work in celebration.
But the truth is...
Function is the devastation
Of every limb and bone
Of the mental salvation,
All blue thoughts
Sweep together
Like a herd,
Like a flood,
Like a swarm of hot blood.
Escapism,
Isn't a solution,
But the girl doesn't know,
The girl doesn't see.
And what the girl doesn't know or see,
Makes her
Secret.

Nylon Strings

There was a parcel left for me yesterday;

Dressed in red ribbon and fancy writing.

I had came back from work,

Weary bones, weary mind.

The house was full of dust,

It hadn't be tidied for a while.

I took a sigh, turned on the kettle,

And sat down, unwrapping the beige paper.

Sitting inside was an old cassette,

No note, no name.

With a little hesitation, I plugged in my stereo,

Put the cassette inside, and without another thought,

I pressed play.

I closed my eyes as I recognised your honest voice

Singin' our truths,

Along your refreshing beat.

A cold stream of music tickled my ankles,

Making my stuffy surroundings blur and disappear.

I stepped forward into the ocean,

And let my body free-fall onto the surface,

A splash of colour as the water swallowed me,

And I can began to sink deep,

To a world of water; of the tears I had cried,

The laughter I had once sung,

All the smiles and the frowns,

The warmth and the coldness of my heart,

Intertwined.

Your lyrical exhibit sang to me,

Flooded my surroundings with bright coral

And strange shadows I could not recognise.

My body sits still with a lowered head,

As I explore and swim on,

Your beautiful waves of rhythm,

The seaweed waves along,

In total harmony.

The ocean so expansive,

My sorrows hadn't left me,

But I could no longer cry.

I watch above and around,

The melody is the heart of the ocean,

The sea bed wild with chords so grand,

And your essence,

The streams of light from the surface,

From my life's aquarium of emotion.

Revealing old memories,

Newer hopes, greater times,

A promise of a world full of everything,

And as the music fades,

I see a room not full of clutter,

But a home.

Reckless words

Ain't like that any more.On the floor,
Near the bookshelf
By the stairs.
Fourth step. Fourth step doesn't smile.
But fourth step never smiled.

Quiet words,
Whispers
Thoughts
A thunder.
Simple things, a faint fire,
Burns like a scream,
A preying liar.
She ain't crazy,
Oh she ain't crazy-
But the heart's desire.
A drenched flier
Sayin'
I love you.

A mist.
A flood.
All honesty,
Written in mud.
Complicated knots
Entangle muscle, memory, mind.
Pulls me in a dark, dark cave.
Leaves my warmth behind.
Oh so subtle,
Your gentle breeze in the shape of your smile.
But then my breath,
It's empty and vile,
My words
Just
Spoken
With a rotten tongue.
But it's not just a mistake,
Because you're someone.

I'm sorry.

(But there's more to that.
They're just reckless words,
Meaningless birds
That sing no notes
in the Garden.
Invisible feathers,
invisible everything.
But let them sing,
In whatever colour you choose,
The sense they bring,
That I refuse
To say I'm always right,
Always bright.
Always alight
With kind thoughts and...
Understanding tones.
Understanding glows,
Of polite sentences.
Yourself is my importance,
And that's why I say it.
Just like that.)

Rose Sleeves

Rose Sleeves playing bright melody,
Creating a garden with passionate rhythmn.
Chord after chord,
The nature begins to climb,
To intimidate a coming day so sweet,
a hope so strong,
With dancing hands, dancing feet.

Inspired by:

My four year old MK-928.

There is something quite majestic about an old electronic keyboard.
A small thin layer of dust sits between the keys and the speakers,
The squeaky vibrations of each note sing to such a degree of "almost perfection"
that it may as well be perfect.
The buzz of a midi instrument that in it's time was quite modern,
But now has a delightful crisp edge,
of an old time classic.
Such is the aging process of sound,
Like a wine it only makes for sweet nostalgia,
For the ears of it's owner.