Legacy

I am the author

Of my own memories

I am the conjurer

Of my own emotions

 

What I choose

Flows and goes

 

But when all is written and done

Will there be many words to be said?

Nothing assured

Green grass and mouldy clothes

That don’t fit no more

Because their memories have stretched them too far

At least the grass will always be green

But even that can’t be guaranteed

Ancient Lines

Old lines come back to me now

Refresh my dull mind

And give life to my words

Because at the moment

They’re burying their own graves

Waiting to drop at any moment

Cult Figure

I went outside to greet the day

A smile on my face

A jump to my stride

But the day didn’t care

Plants went on growing

Birds went on singing

People, people

 

The universe did nothing

But allow me here

That’s not enough for me

I need something more

To be recognised

To be important

So I made a cult

Silver Marble

A silver moon rolls around

In the cloudy sky

Eating the stars light

Excreting out black

Into the dark night

While the blowing wind sings

Through this forest

I’ve lost myself

Trying to understand its words

Where it blows from

Where I’m coming from

The nights get darker and darker

Word Bubbles

I’ve got so much to say

I spray foam words from my mouth

Not intelligent words

But clear, striking and authentic

They float off in the sky

As bubbles

Exploding into rainbows

But

Sometimes I use words that are false

That are overly complicated

That confuse

My mouth emits a soggy fog

that lays a mist

On everything I see

The sun tries to break through

While I’m left in a mist

Of my own making

Ears are Airports

Strange words launch themselves

Into my earholes

They tickle at the crevices

Filling them in

Forming a smoother airway

For the words to land on

I welcome the passengers

With a smiling face

But I still can’t understand

What they’re trying to say

So I just smile