Old Arthritis

I was walking on the pavement

Cars passing every so often

Old man from across the street

A road seperates us

Walking arthritis

You could hear the cracking of bones

From miles away

I don’t know why he bothers coming out

It’s more hassle than it’s worth

Stay indoors, old man

Let your bones rest

Let them wither, twist and writhe

Inside of your skinny, fading frame

Unable to urinate by yourself

Pathetic

You are dead-weight

In this hard-working society

 

Walking in the middle of the road

Hit by a car

Real hard

I can’t move

I don’t feel anything

Numb

The old man walks slowly

Passing my body

His eyes on mine

For the longest time

I hear a pained snigger

He leaves me on the road

Walking away

At least he can, I suppose

 

 

An Artist

 

A broken down building

With broken, heartfelt art

A man sits alone

In his world

His two cats

Give him what he needs

While he gives in to what he wants

Scratching paint with a stick

Clawing, raking with his nails

Deep into the canvas

His art screams help

But he is happy with his lot

The eyes of a sensitive man

Twitching with pain

From a life

That has been too much

My Guitar

I whack the strings of my guitar

So hard

That it may produce sound

If I beg it

Please let out music that people will like

Please make me a somebody

Please sound good

Maybe it will listen

I beat it so hard

That it’s irreparable

So, I go to town

And buy a new one

 

 

Last Ditch Attempt

A prison holds me

Not a small cell

With bars, locks or keys

But a body

Made of weak flesh

That locks me in

 

I’ve tried to escape

Numerous times

Through pills, drinks

Women and music

Books

 

But it does nothing

So in a last attempt

I raise a hammer to my forehead

Repeatadly cracking open my skull

Peace of mind – Part 2

Thousands of faces

Hollering, whimpering, screaming, yelling

Passing through me and around me

Some confused, lost

Some angry

Some blank as if they’re

Desensitised

 

I scream with them

My own individual voice

Added to a harmony of pain

I move my own face

It seems I’ve lost my body

 

I try to look past the faces

To find a background

Bewildered

I just can’t get past

them

 

I feel red rage filling my cheeks

I charge through them

Eyes watering with anger

 

There is no background

Just endless, tormenting faces

Unavoidable eye contact

 

I slow and tire

My face becomes numb

I drift with the whirpool of faces

Not bothering to find a background

No one can look past their own face

Why doesn’t anyone help me

I am miserable

 

They open the window

And I’m back again

 

 

The sea of life

IMG_0356

A dull day

The rough waves of the grey coastline

Pound the beach into submission

The seagulls bob up and down on the pulse of the sea

 

Cormorants

Dive for what seems hours at a time

Reaching the mirky depths

Their homes

Only to return with a sad expression

 

The young ones throw stones

At the waves

Angering them

They grow fiercer at the mockery

Spitting froth

A deep rumble

Within the ripples

 

The old ones search for seashells

Trying to pick them up

By the time they bend fully downwards

The tide is knee high

Seashells long since swept away

They forget what they were doing

With creaking limbs

They try to remember home

 

The ones stuck in the middle

Sit here in anguish

On the sand of the beach

At the futility

They feel in this place

The waves move ever closer

With empathy

 

 

A conversation with my guitar

Tear drops paint the floor wet

I can see chords come out

From my guitar

It’s trying to tell me something

Something urgent

It can’t wait, it says

But I must not listen

You’re a guitar, I say

You don’t understand me

But I understand you

 

 

The village surrounded by mist

IMG_0309

Faces that aren’t faces

Hollow people

They walk the same route

Every day

The birds

The same shrill calls

The beasts

Wander the same path

through the undergrowth

A mist surrounds this place

I’ve walked out of it

A thousand times

Only to be welcomed back

By lifeless smiles

Devoid of emotion

Some days

I find myself

Walking the same route

Drifting, comforming

With this village

Emptiness echoes

Throughout my hollowing mind

I smile