Tag Archives: contemplative

Metal Shavings

Each one individual
different from the last,
still spiral in shape
and glowing with colour,
but different
as if each seperate one
has its own vocation,
growing and glowing to
the peak of its form,
or jumping lemming-like
to an inevitable end,
before it has lived
nipped in the bud and then
crushed underfoot again and again;
Then the rebel piece
causes maximum disturbance
sticks to its creator
for another lease of life,
then lies on its back
backlash and then,
the tool hits the jump
and me jumping back,
to panic for a handle,
yet another false mistake
while the rebel fits to
its own metallic waste,
and I know he’s gone for good;
I wonder should I tell them
the science of their lives?
their ductile strength,
their malleability
or how less longer
they live in the heat,
or should I keep them
young in my own imagination,
where boredom is
the furthest place away?

(Martin Nicholson has asserted his authorial rights in this work)


To everyone you’re no-one,
with your face blotched with warts
and an eye that throbs red
in a planet of wrinkles;
they call you names
but they know you’re just old,
Ninety or ninety-five perhaps
you can never tell in
this young people’s world,
let’s just stop and pause awhile
we could break down the
elements of this worn out frame
there’s calcium,phosphorous
iron and carbon perhaps,
is there also an element of youth?
doesn’t your body determine your age?
or is it controlled
by that blank senile skull
which was tidily covered
in flesh,skin and hair,
then wickedly rotted with time?

(The author’s rights in this work have been asserted)

Night Listener

Listening to faltering surreal broadcasts

serenading another Summer equinox,

the composition’s title eludes him,

Miles;haunting contemplative succinct

flags down thoughts mimicking melancholy,

Gil Goggins’ circumspect piano

embedded in the spent day’s residue

receding like the listener’s reverie

broken by random sniper-shots of glass,

endemic tension flowing,

burst-veined onto midnight alleys

of this midnight City,

frantic frazzled red ‘n’ blue

taking some more cold meat

away to the coroner’s slab,

away from midnight streets

haunted by ” Yesterdays”,

that title hunted down and

captured by a desire to

have words for that spell

cast on a night long ago

in a faraway City where

another night-listener

heard the night

with its surreal,faltering..

#face a book

Rant Rant Rant look at me looking at you
Stare into abyss that’s all we seem to do
We’ve never even met but I know your size shoe
Blitzing through your digits and i’ve got more friends too
As if you dare appear on facey with less than a thousand crew

“People you may know”
Add them add them all
Searching for more likes
So this is your idea of real life?
Oh don’t get me started on selfies
Quite an obsession and very unhealthy
Just spent half a day preparing your face in cake
Then 3 hours performing for the perfect take

Scrolling away your life
We’re all good, it’s not you it’s me
The fury I feel is just jealousy
I wish I could feel satisfaction
From scrolling over someone elses actions
The fury I feel Is just as real
As the joy you get
pulling your fone from your pocket
Take me away to the same place
I still want to stay here, Just here on another day
When not everyone had,
Weapons of mass distraction in there pockets and bags
Coping well with aging aren’t I?
You’d think at 33 I’d embrace these times of mine
I couldn’t feel more separated from my peers
Been creeping and creeping up on me for years
Now I can’t stand to look at your face
Illuminated by your fone it is just too commonplace
Divide in life or is it just mine
Got a reason to be cheerful
I can live without a phone while I dine

Out and about looking at the view
You look up from your fone
To video that one too
Share that vid
Get some hits
Oh what a hippy
That lad is

A show from the setting sun
From God it was granted
You miss this one
Your face still planted
Don’t show me your screen
You’ve been looking that long
Gonna have to invent i-suncream

This life’s what you make of it
Or you can Stare at your fone
Thinking your gods gift
100likes in an hour
You are aware of your higher power
Bare birds hangin on your every post
Only the ones with their brains kicked in the most

Finding your feet, down with the streets
You’re gonna wake up lonely one day, believe

Footnote; sorry to appear to be repeating myself but it has been bugging me that i first posted an edited version of this…

Canapés for Cannibals

Few fresh starts lately
All of them leave me debating
Can I open up this far
And leave no trace of battle scars

Decidedly I have arrived
At a place in my life
Where I care not for nothing
I am just happy to be alive

With all that I know
And lots that I don’t
I move forward daily
Only to be overtaken

Canopies for cannibals
Gauging under my skin
A man I am of sorts
Raving mad, debatable of course

Great minds think alike
Noone ever thought of mine
Retired thinker
Returning to delinquent

Stewing everything over and over
The pots burned dry
I’ve thought myself sober
Pressure cooker boiling over
Press the release valve
Save mammys little soldier
Ernest until the end
Look where it’s got you

You are alone
But you have a role
There is time yet
You can hold your own

Eyes wide shut, let’s keep them open
Being there for you is the most sense you’ve spoken
Now you know that you need you
Can you keep an eye on you too

Feel like there is more
I know there is, of this I am sure
I can’t access it, I can’t see it
But that is nothing new I am feeling

Looking to the sky
Trying to find some answers
Like has humankind
Even got a chance

I hug my peers to absorb their wisdom
I don’t know what it is
But others make me feel strong

The Dragon Awaits

Must we lest trust these feelings
An eye out for those that shine too much
A berieved soul is one who has lost
All sense and reason the game is up

A far cry from where he once was
Don’t loom around look up above
Under cover is where we all hide
The times we wish for were never that nice
There is more out there if you care to decide
To take the chance on what we can’t see as denial

There’s a reason I picked up this pen
Can’t see it now
But will need it one day dont know when
Looking back over everything you wrote
It will all make sense when you need it most

The wisdom you receive from following your own dreams
Ramps up to more than anything you have ever seen
Believe the stories but don’t give up the ghost
Spirits carry you when you need them the most

Finding your feet never came easy
Don’t give up yet
It’s only you that your cheating
Trying a little harder each and every day
Don’t kid yourself into not noticing lifes traits
The dragon is asleep but always awaits
Far beyond your wildest reach
Lays everything you ran from still waist deep

Trust in yourself the bits you don’t like
It will all come together your fear of life
Who would of known you’d reap your reward
Whilst you were worrying your dagger is no sword
But when the time came and it was drawn
It was way bigger than any of your thoughts

Wisdom Tree

Beeping clouds reign over me
Sleeping while I lay here n dream
Letting it all out from a place I am safe
All is well until I awake

I’ve a feeling someone is watching
Keeping an eye on all I do
Every move, every thought, every word,
I can’t tell which world I live in is true
Theres a thought behind this process
A case of course of which I caused this

My hopes are well known for their own
My gut feeling is they are lost and all alone
Behind these dry eyes constant tears flow
Remind these broad shoulders it’s alright to let go
Stop carrying the weight of those you don’t even know

Got that feeling inside you have lost it
Got that feeling it’s on tap
Got that feeling just can’t drop it
But you’ll have to before you break your back

Off to the top of the wisdom tree,
Worked my way up to see what I can see
But now I’m clung to a branch n darent let go
Yes that’s my life yes that’s me
Been a while in the making,
Got a great chance now tho..

Picture in the Gallery

The Picture in the gallery

the painting no-one else

ever seems to look at;

That street scene from another century,

with its muted colours of a

long lost summer afternoon;

the carriages,the hats,the uniforms,

street urchins,shopkeepers and

at the railway station entrance

a newspaper vendor and stood next to him

reading the headline,” Archduke Ferdinand assassinated!”

a man without a face.


When I stop telling the truth to you

and you stop telling the truth to me,

there’ll be no more truth spoken;

what loss would that be?

When I stop lying to you

and you stop lying to me,

we shall find our world devoid of lies

leaving it emptier than before;

what loss would that be?

Where do I belong?

I belong to the place where
the lark doesn’t sing because the sun is rising,
but the sun rises to hear the lark sing.

Where the sea doesn’t roar because the moon shines,
but the moon shines to see the waves soar.

Where it doesn’t rain because the earth is parched,
it rains because the sky yearns to kiss its beloved.

Where the wind doesn’t carry the fragrance because the rose bears it,
but air wraps the rose to unwrap the fragrant gift.

Take me to that place where
I can see but I need no eyes,
I can hear but I need no ears,
I can walk but I need no limbs,
I can fly but I need no wings.

Take me to that place where
I can listen to the light
and watch the sound,
where I can taste the fragrance
and drink the wind.

Take me to that place,
for that is where I belong.