Monday, March 31, 2008

i am particularly prolific at the moment

i poem

i ran over a dog today
i thought of infidelity and reached a place untouched
i died in trenches with my grandparents
i sort comfort in solitude
i pretended to care for another
i watched people play out dreams that were never mine
i craved a drink and a conversation
i yearned for the smell of a woman
i stared into a screen in search of companionship
i thought of friends who i dare not call
i dreamt of children shot in gaza
i pictured graveyards of mobile phones
i whispered to the ether for an end of a moment
i struck ink with keystroke til cancer corrodes
i procrastinated, masturbated, humiliated and contended
i felt infatuation with my constructed reflection
i slept and slept and slept and slept some more
i gazed into a mirror and warmed to my youth
i knew i had nothing to say and said it anyway
i lost myself that little bit more and wrote poetry

Thursday, March 27, 2008

Please ignore most of the poetry on this blog. It is shit.

make believe and dead civilians

reading over old words with contempt

twisted fucking love poem after climax

and all we ever wanted was attention

surrounded by a mob of self righteous hacks

knowing my ill health, the smell of a tired face

masturbating for regular exercise as people are shot

i know with painful clarity that i am not a poet

or a musician or an activist and yet

i still say the words and my being is my mantra

know with some certainty that we are surely doomed

so wait to suffocate in this hip mono-culture

to whisper with absurdity at entertainment news

oh capital how i love you

with a giant c for cunt

a populous enslaved

and a never ending want

to not hurt anyone

but myself