Spectral inversionI think I might beA ghost prior to deathLonely, so lonely Seeing the coloursBut never the lightHearing the demonsUnable to fight Spectral inversionYeah, guess that’s meDying by daylightLonely, so lonely Touching at rainbowsNot feeling the rainLost in a snowstormEach bring such pain Spectral inversionSome claim that I beThough I prefer hollowE-ter-nal-ly A Poem by […]
Whenever I resist, the world pulls back harder, a gravitational force I cannot control; it tugs at my soul like a dead weight. Perhaps it is, and I am, or not? Though the questions materialise like blizzarding snowflakes, the answers are less forthcoming, one cannot see the clouds in the background, but one can feel […]
A muddled middle, a gut feeling Cause external confusions The mind powering thought The heart driving reaction A palaver of misdirections Inhibits both extremities Neither sure of the other And both unwilling to change There is a me in the mixture A corporeal being Unsure of sense’s accuracy Debilitated by a palpating core And so […]
￼ Faceless, I resist the passage of time; the stars made multiplied through my obsidian maw. I see all there has been and all there will be, yet feel nothing. Nothing! Time will do such things to those who fight eternity, who refuse to pass. I do not refuse, I’ve just forgotten how to get […]
￼ In spilled ink are truths found As we bleed across pages Stanzas formed from our pain Paragraphs, our experiences Waiting for those rivers of us To congeal into certainties Certain kinds of truth Yet like the blood in our wounds They merely crust As imperfect finishes Upon imperfect souls They scab. They hurt This […]
￼ The mirror captured my soul and wouldn't let go. He tried to escape the frame's aluminium confines, the rippling quicksilver it held, but failed. He was trapped. Every time I returned, my forlorn soul looked back. Only when I covered him with a curtain did his eyes stop haunting me.
￼ There's jazz playing. I hate jazz. My face gives me away. "Not a jazz fan, huh?" "No." He ignores my abrupt reply. "It's more than music, man, it's a feelin'". "I'm not feeling it." "Coz yer eyes are open, man. Close 'em. S'like love." I do. He's right. It is.