Tuesday 25 March 2014

BUBBLES

last year
I was a bit of a boy in a bubble
forever blowing them as well
we all were,
for better or worse/
rose tinted spectacles hurting our eyes
making a spectacle of ourselves
well
that's just what we did
I thought the sun shone out your arse
and it did, for a bit
your bitchy resting face didn't bother me
but maybe there was more to it than just a face
wait
that sounds bitter/
i'll hit myself so you don't have to
and show myself out
 
the truth is,
people change
and people are strange
stranger than the doors of perception
or electric sheep
"keep dreaming, honey"
you said
because you're not going to send me back to where I came from
unless I'm very much mistaken
time travel is still impossible
not that I'd want to go back anyway
it's all water off a duck's back
and that's it
 
slow claps
from a slow club/
something to do with barnacles,
bus rides
and mother's day
you said
red red wine
not feeling as fine as we used to
excuse me, can I get past?
past, present and future are similar
except you're only in one of them
(I think)
pink elephants dance round my head/
empty bed blues
choosing to finally cut ties with you
suit and tie disasters
and
kitchen sink dramas
the dalai lama's wisdom couldn't help us right now/
shouting obscenities in foreign supermarkets
starting to realise
that this ride was a one way journey
great train robbery/
robbing us of our ability to sit down and talk
I know for sure
that we're done now/
i'll count my blessings,
put all my eggs in one basket
and ask you for one last robot dance
before the bubbles that we blew
burst at last

Monday 24 March 2014

CLOCKWORK ORANGE

look
I know that time
is the most annoying thing to wait around for
counting down the days/
'til the next blue Monday
intent on presenting yourself
with no other options/
if god doesn't work in mysterious ways
then something does,
because life is strange
stranger than fiction/
addicted to the things that distract you
from actually moving on
i know i belong wherever you are/
but right now I'm clueless
as to where that might be

I know that time,
ticking away
the moments
that make up a dull day
drives you crazy/
time flies
tick tock
like a clockwork orange
"stop" you said/
every second,
minute
or hour
wasted as things go nowhere/
losing the will
to even kill
a fly trying to escape
through the closed windows
of your home sweet home,
getting more sour
with every hour that you wait
but waiting is worth it
I served my time too/
on trial for my own thoughtcrime
(1984 all over again)
waiting for the spiders in my brain
to stop making cobwebs
and fuck off instead/
hell on earth you call it
i know that's what it might seem like
sometimes
but over time
the possibility of life without electric wires
and crying in corners
becomes all the more likely
 
eventually
you won't care if Monday's blue,
Tuesday's grey
and Wednesday too/
because a new day is just around the corner
cornershop
forget me not
chocolate nights
and days where the blood in your veins
seems a distant memory
alive/
regardless of the enemy,
the future,
mad dogs
and Englishmen
finally letting yourself believe
(after all this time)
that
"things aren't always quite what they seem"
and
"there's more than one given angle to any one given scene"
and the scene you're in
is between you and me
scene and not heard,
subcultured
and in love with the girl next door
not care free but caring less
about the suggestion box inside your head/
knowing you're not better off dead
but instead
knowing that time is a healer,
dealing with problems is good for your health
and sometimes
it's ok to spend the seconds,
minutes
and hours
on yourself

Sunday 23 March 2014

MISFITS

all my misfits
I miss you
since you've been gone/
the rest of us go on and on
long days
dog days
in a daze
as we try to remember
why we bother
you're my brothers and sisters
and somewhere along the line
a part of you died
I don't know why
or where to find it/
but I know that no friend
or enemy
can prevent you from finding it again
 
red wine and cigarettes
didn't help
but try using yourself,
you're stronger than you think
and it seems ridiculous to me
(not to be selfish)
how you see yourself
because I see so much beauty
and movements that move me
in a seldom seen kid like you

I can't say pull your socks up
(it's got nothing to do with what you wear with your shoes)
but don't lose sight of knowing
that you're not on your own
believe me, I've been there,
playing noughts and crosses on my own arm/
harming my head more than anything else

so to all the underachievers
and daydream believers
please,
see what I'm saying
never feel guilty for praying to false gods
or paying someone in your time
it takes a while to adjust
and accept it's a part of us
for better or for worse
 
hurting yourself can seem like an easy way out
but please
take time to scream off concrete towers,
know that you're not broken,
that if you can't beat them
you don't have to join them
and I hope that you'll divide the joy
enough to have some for yourself

Saturday 22 March 2014

CRYSTAL FIGHTER

heartbeats,
hot streets,
beach king/
sleeping with the window open.
new hope,
han solo,
looking at your face I know
that you and me/
we're going places
you're my crystal fighter
and my friend

chipped tooth,
sunlight moving
through my curtains/
dead flowers
and robot men/
all the memories
of you already.
tea leaves,
strange dreams/
you and me,
we're going places
doc martens
with yellow laces
wasting no time to pretend you're someone else:
you're my crystal fighter
and my friend

meeting you accidentally
elastic bands
and funny feet/
telling me that I'm alright
despite the stupid things I say/
churlish may
and birthday parties
knowing me,
knowing you
throwing knives
and fire alarms
starting to know
not to forget
that you're my crystal fighter and my friend

Friday 21 March 2014

STICKS + STONES

sticks and stones have broken his bones before
he's been on the floor,
calling out to all the gods he's believed in
(believe me, I've seen it)
only taking what he needs
no more, no less
blessing the fists and baseball bats that beat him
(beat on the brat)
actually
"the colder it gets the warmer we feel"
he said
and I really believe that
believing is half the battle
(maybe even 3 quarters)
and all the daughters in the world
couldn't hate him/
safety in numbers
running up that hill,
killing the demons inside him

somehow
sticks and stones don't hurt him/
burning the bridges that burnt him before
"drop that tear in the ocean"
he said
and when they find it you'll stop caring
and sharing the empathy you have for me
and all the others on this flea-bitten planet
then he called me turquoise/
a boy, a man and everything in between
but that means nothing to me/
because right now
he is he as you are he as you are me
and we are all together
little things like the metal in his dimples
are what makes him human,
dancer,
father
and friend/
wishing on bones that ended long ago
when he chose not to fight but to fly/
jonathan seagull, beagles and black legs
it's all in the past and the faster we slowed down
we found that there's blood in a stone
after all

breezeblocks are no obstacle
the probability of life at sea and gin in teacups
all the more likely/
pointing the finger is easy
when it's attached to your hand/
walking faster and brown parcels are your priority
(sorry you feel that way)
what I'm saying is that he's a friend
put simply he's just another person like you/
looking lost but probably more found
than you like to admit
it's a superman/kryptonite kind of situation
one that i'll take with me wherever I go
so,
sticky - this one's for you
for truth, love and vodka
thank god you're here/
hearing what we all have to say
and (in a strange way)
we're the wayward strangers
who wish we could be more like you
blue lights
street lights
lighting a cigarette as you tell us you love us
well,
a bit of trust goes a long way
and my days would be a lot worse/
without your shotgun weddings,
jogged memory
and shaved head
terry lee
I'm only trying to remind you
that whatever's behind us can't cause pain
and the light at the end of the tunnel
isn't always a train

EGGS

2 fried eggs and a kebab
misspent, you said
it's supposed to be about new life
but all it made me realise
is how tired
and hungry I am
I could eat a horse right now
but these days, that could mean anything/
thinking about how to pass the time proactively
when, actually,
last night's activities have put a stop to that/
stacking cigarette butts in straight towers
wondering how a Wednesday afternoon could come to this/
spitting on cold pavements
like all the other well behaved ones
 
new life, you said
knife, fork and spoon
soon I'm supposed to feel better/
never a thought for the endless to do list it feels like sometimes
if life's really a bitch,
then i'll bite the bullet
I know it's not
but on a day like today I find it hard to persuade myself/
dazed and confused
choosing which activity to do first/
learning the alphabet all over again
when love comes to town,
I WON'T BE HERE
head and shoulders
and
hedgerows full of empty cans of white ace
tasting the indifference
like her blue rinse
hoping one day soon
you'll lose your skin/
wishing you understood how to shine on
when
shiny foil around brown spheres
far from lifting your mood
confuses you instead
 
2 fried eggs and a kebab
misspent, you said
it's supposed to be about new life
but
all it made me realise
is how tired
and hungry I am

NIQUITIN

I'd like to give you up
live a bit longer instead
but on the days when heads roll
I don't care nearly as much
that I'm burning you
to eventually lead
to burning my own bones
in a black tie ceremony
the only memory of me
sawdust,
chucked off a car park somewhere
hardly what you'd call a send-off

if it came to it
I'd like you all to carry on living
carry on, carry on
if I'm not back again this time tomorrow
grab a bottle instead
carry on living
dance to joy division,
take off your 3 piece suits and pretty dresses,
accept that some things are a mess
and that's ok

you were always ok
you don't need me to tell you that
i'll just choke on the words
because, actually, I'm not that good with them
all I do is remember
how it feels to be human
assume things aren't perfect
and carry on from there/
try and care about the little things that make all the difference
to people like you and me
where were we?
I only started this after listening to the hiss
of another cigarette butt in a half drunk can
that's nothing, really
because I remembered a more important lesson instead
that we're temporary/
like bubblegum or a bus journey
we all end up in the same place/
no amount of pain or material gain
can stick the skin back on to your thin form
once you're gone

so again
(I like to mention things twice)
just be nice to eachother
I'm no teacher but that's not a difficult lesson
love the little things/
but think bigger
smile once in a while
and try to stop trying to lie to yourself.
sorry if my advice seems annoying
(I annoy myself sometimes)
but if modern life is rubbish
then we've got nothing to lose
I might not quit smoking
but I can choose
to be a better person
and personally,
given the choice
I know which one
I'd try to avoid

Monday 17 March 2014

LEMONADE

regretting
letting it in
to my head (well, my nose)
again
god knows it won't be the last time/
knowing the past times
that so often amuse us
 
confusion is the reason
we never cease to amaze ourselves
trying to say she sells sea shells
and laughing instead
off our heads,
out of our minds
cheap wine does the job
(an alien concept)
letting ourselves go so well
you couldn't do better if you tried
 
outside,
a sea of plastic bags/
glad rags on but nowhere to go
tomorrow never knows
but that's no guarantee/
baby lemonade I need you sooner than you think
but no sooner than expected/
expected roadworks march to may
maybe i'll pay for something
(that'll be the day)
 
please,
accept my regrets
of letting it in/
please,
baby lemonade
maybe my memory
was invented to please you
with
frozen peas,
cold knees,
coffee and tv/
the might do's and maybes
are not what they used to be
or what they seem
 
baby lemonade
numbered days/
naked as we came
cutting up lines
left right and centre
(don't mention it)
baby lemonade
come back to yesterday
if not, then sooner
I'm a loser, baby
 
baby lemonade/
kill me
spill the beans
and the blood
of my lemonade brain/
bubbles and double dutch
all over again
lemonade, baby
again and again
 

Friday 14 March 2014

BALLOONS

is that you,
behind the half price food
and plastic faces,
when the sun goes down?
if you were one day to become an atom
(god forbid)
your half life wouldn't be half the time it takes you
to answer me when I pass the time of day.
I might have no name but I'm not invisible
chip on my shoulder/
fish on my head
(shoulders, knees and toes)
and bruises from when i tripped over the pavement,
staring at your aura
(purple like a cartoon grape)
"rape me"
he said.
a bit drastic,
considering
the deliberation i take
to even clean my teeth
 
life's a lot harder the smarter you are,
smartarse
and arrogance is like a soiled carpet:
asking for trouble.
a friend once said
it's better to be pleasant
and run the risk
of awkward moments in the lift,
waiting for the 4th floor
 
not the best advice of the day/
but he could be on to something
and anyway,
nothing could be worse
than the burst balloon
you've become
deflated/late again
for a date you say is just a number
a hundred years could go by
without you smiling/
I've given up trying
to put the wind in your sails
 
failure
is the new you,
a blue you
and I see you through you
so to tell the truth
you're just another
deflated balloon/
and the sooner you go,
the sooner i'll know
not to bother
with you
or the balloons
on this fuel called love
above what I thought when I met you

Sunday 9 March 2014

DICK HEAD

sorry.
I seem to have accidentally
been a dick head
I know that doesn't make it any better
but
it puts it in context, surely
it wasn't just an expensive moment
a don giovanni, romeo, cassanova nightmare
all in one
it wasn't long before it all got a bit one sided
I've been on both,
and neither's that great
the real reasons behind
the cold calls,
pillow talks
and fake laughs
remain unknown

a mattress fortress/
sorting my belongings alphabetically
putting off the inevitable moment of leaving the room
when things got a lot more confusing
the accusations of me using you
to lose myself in my own ego
aren't true
or at least,
that's never what I wanted
from the start
the sharpness of a lemon is nothing on you right now
telling me I've got cold skin and devil horns
warning me that I'm dying
trying to tie me down/
to the swings and roundabouts
between us
 
but then again
I don't know what it's like to look through your eyes
risking everything,
just to find out I'm a dick head
again
another friendship down the drain
rainbow drops/
Brighton rock
cocked it up again,
didn't I?
sorry about that
might not sound it,
but I really am
and
unfortunately
i'll always be
the same old,
brain dead,
dick head
again

Saturday 8 March 2014

NEW SHOES

new shoes,
new me,
new you.
last time,
after 2 years of spilt milk
and fake blood on the carpet
she went nuclear.
but a problem's not a problem
if you don't mention it/
and a bed of roses only grows
if you put shit on it first
 
it was all
kitchen sink dramas/
harmless threats
to what you called my personal space
(everyone else calls it a waste of oxygen)
but it didn't bother me
or you:
caught in car headlights
that turned out to be
2 motorbikes, side by side/
just missing you
like everything else that passed you by
because you were too busy
looking good
dying slowly, instead
 
new me,
new you
this time,
i'll tell the truth
(fingers crossed)
but:
how about you/
walk a mile in my shoes
then, you'll be a mile away
and i'll know for sure/you won't say
any of the wisdom/you insist on departing
and I can get on
with the love songs,
pond life
and gold lions
i'm becoming a part of,
without you

Wednesday 5 March 2014

BOREDOM

boredom
in the kingdom of my room.
king of the sooner or later/
night after night
waiting for the days to get longer
have you ever wondered
what you'll do tomorrow?
tomorrow might look after itself
but
it's looking after myself that's the problem sometimes
trying to find meaning
in everyday feelings
waking up on the floor every morning
disguising just how bored I really am

the buzzcocks were right
straight lines
of
whatever we can find to stop ourselves actually thinking
because maybe it's actually thinking that we're scared of
not love
or loss
or trusting a man who sleeps with his socks on
but thinking big enough to sink titanically
and still manage to believe it was worth it
because living without thinking isn't really living
it's just going through the motions/
emotional constipation
waiting to shit
and admit
that it's time you did something about it
before you're so bored of being bored
that moving forward is your only option
adopting a straight face so they don't know you hate them
(well, not hate, it's just been a bad day)
bored out of your skull and into the culture of blaming it on the
drugs, bug bears and not caring
that we chose to be part of

so don't be bored,
leave some doors open
learn something/burn something
pay for soup, build a fort and set that on fire
before it's too late and you die of boredom
so bored that
they bore a hole in your head:
a teenage lobotomy
 (please,
feel free
to stop me
if I'm boring you)

Monday 3 March 2014

ACHILLES

Achilles, you're killing me
softly
soft machine
me, you,
everyone else and their mother/
all in the same boat
hoping, losing, loving, choosing
to be or not to be:
shit question,
unless you're dead

headaches and heartburn
learning the hard way
that there's an army of people
who'll say they see through you
who'll get in your way
blaming you for the marmalade
and moody blues
we're all living in

but Achilles, you're healing me
in a strange way,
the days are better/
knowing you're here
facing you,
tasting you
instead of the fear
of all the little things that fill my day

not to go as far as to say I like you
but maybe
in spite of you
alright,
because of you
I soon learned that
embracing our weakness
is the best treatment
and in time,
you realise,
that the ups
and the downs
are better
than a flat line

Sunday 2 March 2014

TSARS

pretending to live/
as the piss pours down your head
dead to the world/
since he left you

black, blue, red and white
wishing they wouldn't start these fights.
do they even know why?
they chase you,
hunt you,
punch you
make you feel less than/
telling you it's a lesson
when the only lesson you learnt
is to love

surveillance nation
hating you/
because it suits them
boots on
airstrip one
hope gone.
spitting out teeth:
a prayer to the god
that they made you believe in

please
hold on
you're tinkers you're tailors you're soldiers and spies
but most of all -
you're alive.
you're stars of track and field
and building a life worth living
even if they tell you that it's not/
that you'll run to your grave
for being yourself.
back of the shelf
unwanted
haunted
by the sons and daughters who turned on you/
believing the truth from the lies they've been led
and the trust that's been lost
as you lie in your own blood
and you realise
just how much love can cost

HALF OF ME

I'm no mathematician
but
I know you're half of me
and
it doesn't add up,
because you don't see it that way

I don't understand/
you put your hand in mine
and said it would stay there.
wayward me
wayward you
separate ways/
500 days,
Arabian nights,
a kiss with a fist
and dreams of flying

these days
it's all grey
brain drain/nothing new
how hard is it to:
decide to be in a good mood,
and then just be in one?
is it that easy
to please me,
myself
and I,
as well as you?

truth be told, you annoy me
throwing your toys out of the pram
you're no man
no woman
no cry
you're a kid, like me
kidding ourselves
that we'll be alright
that we'll be something more/
sawdust in your hair
and caring more about
how not to lose me
than your own sanity.
give it up, sunshine
shine on/come along
come in/comedown
brain dead/chickentown
all over again

you're half of me/
no matter how differently I try to see it
and
the thing is
honestly?
I really, really
wish you weren't

Saturday 1 March 2014

MY ASYLUM

this place is my asylum
where romance is dead
I can't hear a thing but
voices in my head,
last rites
and fist fights

I sang my song/
but they hung me from the heavens
to die by the drop
and said I was not one of them

you hit me in the soft cell/
wedding bells,
future head
the beat of your drum goes on/
like the atom bomb
on Hiroshima.
please,
stop what you're doing to me

this place is an asylum
I don't belong here
but,
I don't belong anywhere else
the fact is:
maybe I enjoy being in hell

9 in the morning/cigarette calling
she warned me this would happen
in the asylum
but,
I liked her,
too much to listen

I may be naïve but believe me -
it's something I'm working on.
go on, forget me
regret the seconds you wasted
wishing you were deaf
and dumb.
call me a liar, but don't ever tell me
that you're not far
from my asylum
yourself