Riding from Torquay to Exmouth

Recent Activity~

I’m really happy to be posting again and writing. I haven’t writen any poetry for quite a few months now. It’s an odd sensation. For me creativity and inspiration comes in waves. Just like moods, and different ways of thinking. It can be really productive but also quite scary as to how fast and how much I can change, it takes a while for me to get my footing again, but I really feel like I’m starting to control this a bit better as I get older. Is that a good thing?

Lots of things have been going on for me over the past few months. I’ve fufilled my dream of owning an adventure bike. I’m yet to use it to its full capabilities! But I’ve been on quite a few day trips and over just a month I’ve done 1546 miles (2488 kilometres). I’m very much addicted to riding this beast of a bike. I got a brand new NC750X Honda imported straight from the land of the rising sun, Japan. Which blew me over the moon, being a Japanophile.

I’ve been thinking about this blog often, what I should do with it, should I solely write in poetry or should I use it just to write and post content on my “exploits”. Recently I’ve even purchased a helmet camera to catch some footage of the places I travel to. Catching a first person perspective of myself riding a motorbike is beyond bizzare but incredible. I’d like the idea of making motorbike riding music videos or just mini documentaries of places I visit, just having chats. Unfortunately the first video I’ve put on youtube, I’ve mounted the camera way to forward so there’s a frustrating angle to deal with. I’ve fixed it now but it is very annoying, haha. I suppose you learn as you go.

Many times I’ve been thinking, how should I express myself, how can I reach to people, how can I be seen or heard. I think a lot of us think the same thing. How we want to be known. Music, photography, video, painting, drawing, poetry, singing. All these things we do to be seen or heard. To be pondered on, on our unique point of view as a human being, our intellect and our minds.

I think I will just use this blog to post what I feel strongly about and write poetry as I always love to.

Anyhow, it’s nice to write, and it’s nice to be back.

Hope you’re all doing well!

If you’re interested in some of the videos I’ve made and will be making, then check out the link below:

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCH8u8kQSphPcXFX_PNml8vw

Work of Art

The future is painted

Stroke by stroke

Where I sit

It’s up to me

Which colours I choose

And what scene I create

Rotten Mind

There’s a fly inside of me

That I try to ignore

But it keeps bloody buzzing

Away in there

I try to drown it in booze

But it dodges it

I try to punch it

But I only hurt myself

I try to smoke it out

But it’s unfazed

 

The buzzing gets louder

When I try to sleep

I wake up to its noise

Barely with it

 

I don’t remember a time

It not being there

But it’s getting louder every day

To the point where I can’t hear

Other people

Or, myself

And

That’s dangerous

Weary Traveller

I’ve come a long and trecherous path

Stinging nettles and thorns kissed my skin

Many times

The ground tripped me

And the branches hit me

But I travelled nevertheless

I’ve seen a lot of sights

Yet

They depress me

One more sunset

And I may die of boredom

An Angel with a Devil’s Forked Tongue

An angel with the words of a devil

He felt with good intentions

But was betrayed by his tongue

It led him to bad people

Who used him

Because he asked them to

His tongue led the way

While his soul ran

Looking for a place to hide

 

Would I still go to hell

High Walls

She sends a volley of arrows

To assail me

But I built my walls too high

For her to pierce me

Her arrows hit and break

Against my stone

I’d laugh

But I don’t feel like it

Pain and Art

Shoot me, shoot my words

Make them bleed out any colour

They once retained

Make them suffer, watch them writhe

Make them feel something

So that maybe my art

Will become real

Shoot me, with everything you’ve got

Diary of a Mass Murderer

Bullied since I entered the building

For my weirdly shaped head

I thought I was better?

The insults grind up and smash

against my tiny brain

Like a storm of jagged stones

They even throw them at me

 

My family can’t even look at me

They pass my room

Squeaking some faint noise

Shove my food on a tray and slide it

Under my door, like a prison

“Have you got a job yet?”

 

Their names stand like ghosts

Whispering around my brain

I can hear their words in my dreams

That’s right, I’m nothing, my ocean

The shampoo in my eyes

 

She left me and I felt nothing

I’ve played out the scene in my head

A thousand times before in my mind

Before we even met

I acted sad on the stage

But in actuality nothing is reacting

I just drink a glass of orange juice

 

The nitrous fills my lungs

I float higher than the balloon in front of me

 

When I come back down

My eyes break like glass

 

A Million Angry Flies

A million flies blind my view

Their swarming black bodies buzz against me

I can feel their sick warmth

They are all I can hear

All I can

See

I walk

In search of an exit

The more I move

The more aggrivated they become

Their buzzing changes tone

Landing en-masse on my pasty skin

Vibrating their wings so rapidly

I begin to melt gradually

I close my eyes in absolute

Terror

 

The buzzing stops

I open my eyes

Slowly

A pure white horizon

Burnt out silver sun

I see her silhouette

 

I swear I can hear harps