Sunday 26 February 2023

Communication 171



have we not had enough yet?

a system crippled by its own inadequacies

the ego, megalomania, a distinct hypnosis

that keeps you chomping at the bit,

if you keep on whoring yourself you might get rich,

if you’re wild and dangerous you might get famous, 

I can’t look you in the eye,

your hollow body appears dead to me,

just keep taking the poison,

something to dumb you down,

the world to me is beyond reason,

I can’t take the indecision

haven’t you noticed?

your legs and arms are stitched

tied down tight to each corner of the grid

your bones will break, your muscle will tear

with each counter-clockwise turn of the dial

you can live within denial, pretend the pain isn’t real

with all these gods shooting from the hip

it’s hard not to get hit by their bullet 

Communication 170

 summers town


the tips of the trees above me

swaying summers breeze 

a hay fever post sneeze

alcoholic tendencies 

the holidays are over

one year older 

we’d skate through the streets

under streetlamp lights

within the seamless moment

everything felt right,

drinking under the slide

in the last gasp of daylight,

we were brothers,

undefined in our purpose

guitar music connected us,

that first sweet smell 

of cheap cigarettes 

you choke as the smoke

hits the back of your throat

but you get use it,

we’d abuse it,

youth as far as the eye

could see, an acid trip

a fake I.D, climbing the wall

of our secondary school,

there was something sinister

about the empty halls

each classroom held a memory 

when the world meant 

the most to me,

we’d carve our names

into the school benches 

our first love flutter

distracting our senses 

the torment and confusion 

of a newfound emotion

rebounding me from

wall to ceiling 

I can’t contain the feeling,

it seems like yesterday

we’d rush out to play

the dinner bell would ring

and we’d start conspiring 

to leave this place forever

and with the school days behind us

I hitched a ride

and never looked back

I don’t want to back track,

and talk about “the good old days”

it was such a strange malaise 

of crass and raw confusion

when our outlook on life

was all but an illusion


Communication 169

 Amnesia State


structures will fall if all of us pull

the wool from in front of our eyes,

every second a lab rat dies

when it tries to take a piece of the pie

and I’m left half-conscious wondering 

what the hell I’m even here for 

I’ve seen this shit all before 

somewhere in a history book

a partisan with a warped world view

whose words carefully corrupted you

stands tall,

does anyone remember the Jews?

don’t let me confuse you

it’s as if you can’t grasp

that such ‘wordplay’ can happen again,

I can hardly wait for the Amnesia State

to start begging for forgiveness

when the cowardly bastard’s witness

that all they’ve ever preached is poison,

whipping up the porous crowds 

soaking them in their hollow shells

mindless rhetoric, 

borderline neurotic,

psychobabble to calm the rabble,

I’m effortlessly bored of all of this

the overreaching voice of the people

needs to be dismissed  

Sunday 1 January 2023

Communication 168

the disappeared 


bury it for later 

bury it completely

the neurosis kicks in gradually

as you try to compute the tragedy


oh, how I want you to disappear 

never to be seen again,

I’ll dig you up when

I reflect on all my past regrets

those I can’t forget,


I’m giving myself a reason 

to be addicted to something,

my dreams where never harvested

they remained unpicked for a season,

festering for no reason.


trodden into the dirt, under foot, 

my time’s over,

my life has come and gone,

all I can do is hang on,

and through the fog 

of 1000 prescription pills

I can pretend I’m not ill

Saturday 22 October 2022

Communication 167

DAD ‘Dead Horse Bay’


It feels like years have passed since I’ve seen you

felt the warmth of your hand

smelt your tobacco laden threads 

it’s hard to believe you’ve been dead

9 months

where have gone?

are you young again?

free to breathe on your own

a veteran of a useless body

having simply shifted frequency 

can you still see me?

are you proud that I’ve continued to live


with your blood inside me

we’re bonded forever

in many ways we’re always together, 

but it’s not the same

it will never be the same


I hear you in my silence 

lost without your guidance

but I know you’re at peace

it was such a relief

you died at home in Mums arms

I understand it was too painful to stay

maybe I’ll see you again someday,

wandering the shores of dead horse bay 

Sunday 16 October 2022

Communication 166

 when I sleep 

 I have had dreams where I’ve fallen 

deeply in love with strangers

lucid worlds covered in ice, 

the sun reflecting off the seine

faceless passengers in a world I can’t define

a coma sleep blurs the lines between 

a world I love and a waking state I hate,

where do you go when I open my eyes?

do you remember me for who I really am

or am I forgotten forever

will we meet again in the strangest of places

or have the lines blurred so badly

severing the connection that fused 

us together in sleep 

Saturday 1 October 2022

Communication 165

the strangle switch 

engage the strangle switch

when an undefined temperament

is so hard to come by, 

there is no consistency,

I won’t except clarity

I’m somewhere in-between

I feel I’ve outstayed my welcome

a useless good for nothing fuck

who’s stuck in his shortcomings 

I’m not prepared to vegetate 

until I irritate the hell out of you

I won’t forget what you put me through,

a war without force, a decision without choice

a wound so deep left unstitched 

engage the strangle switch

before you turn septic