Mahatma Gandhi once said:
“A ‘No’ uttered from the deepest conviction is better than a ‘Yes’ merely uttered to please”
This was a long time before he died
if apologies and self-deception wouldn’t stop me from dying too
I would at least try to become a martyr for whatever cause I believe in
I’m just far too fearful of what comes after that
and had I the self-restraint to put my consumption on hold
to starve myself all for a better place
I would make the attempt to weather the hunger to prove to myself
that I’m strong, that I’m pure – But I’m not, not now
Truth is I am and always have been burdened by complacency
turning a blind eye around blind corners, confronted by
up-turned noses and volume to drown out the pleas for assistance
facing resistance with malleability and the right words at the right time
because I don’t like confrontation – my convictions are a victim
of striving for the end goal that I will change in order to get there
Poems
Home ate my heart out
I find symbolism in the moments
living in train cars and taxicabs
Between here, home and where my heart is
with a night cap, cloak and dagger stabbed
straight into my open chest
paint pictures when I remenisce
of times where all my female friends were angels
now all their wings are clipped
it’s funny how I’m still alone
still holding on to better songs
and better words in better poems
when you used to mouth along.
I’ve been a ghost this year
and my parent’s say come visit
my little brother hates me
’cause he knows I do not miss it
all the shouting in the living room
and holes in corridor walls
that house is black and blue
and it has liquor on it’s breath
it was the death of my childhood
and stands as memorial of dreams
but the best thing to ever come out of it
was me,
still holding on to better songs
and better words in better poems
when you used to mouth along
All is flair in Tolstoy and Exhibition
I broke my own eyesight with St. Patricks closed fist
in a bar fight with the boyfriend of my first Kiss Me I’m Irish
I might have layed on the accent a little
Talked with more than a little flair
But In love and war and drunk girls on Exhibition street
All’s fair, so I got beat fair and blue and white
You should have seen the other guys from this side of the bar(s)
Maddison
She’s broken, like me
a fragile little marionette
I played with her heartstrings
enough to hear her smile sing
we kissed in an empty schoolyard
elegent apostles leaning awkwardly
no truth in love we dared to tell
our lie was told to spite this hell
and our lie was love. Adolescent one of us
enough to be a secret trist, our cloak and dagger
toke and drag, her coughing
cold air showed her breathe
and when I held her skin to mine
a whispered “yes” was all it took
for the last shred of innocence to leave
Forgiveness?
I want to hate fuck her.
Amelia.
kiss those lips and say
“We’re never going to be together
Like this again”
And smile when she realises
what she’s lost.
Spoon, sugar, bitter pill
resentment is the opening of old doors
closure can only be achieved by
closure
and I’m too busy
knock three times
it’s locked for a reason
Schoolboy
It occurred during the annexation of words from my tongue
bleeding, hopelessly I clawed at your shoulder blades
until a sickness welled up inside and I spewed out
apologies and unsent love letters from a few months back
when you still smiled at the mere mention of his name
and when you didn’t call him yours.
Finally, you thought.
I was never quite alone in my lament
kept the company of poets and my thirteen year old self.
Here was a girl that made me feel like muesli bars at recess
and I could never quite get the lions wish to sp sp speak my mind.
Back then it felt like forever
but little did my little boy self know that in a few months
she would need the comfort of cliché scrawling’s
because the smile she once displayed so radiantly
broke
and along with her heart and the title of ‘mine’
he would be painted out of the picture.
Despite the fact I’ve made myself a fool
I still offer everything I am worth
and if you happen to change your mind
you can find me swinging life away.
Morning, Mourning
Mornings come and go
with the sting of immunisations
and melancholic morning breath
we drifted from this ephemeral moon;
From milk and sugar
to black and one
we started our lives together.
Top heavy
My heart fell crooked when you waved goodbye
Two days spent, four hundred dollars and smiling
Every cent wasted ‘cause I couldn’t find the courage in my empty
Heart to admit that I cleared house to make room for you
You took the paper that I gave you, pinned it up onto your wall
You let the words I wrote upon it hang there like they were furniture
Good god if you were a little less naïve,
a few torn up and burned photos more bitter
a little more careful with what you say to someone when they’re actually listening,
you might just understand how much I sink when you mention him
how great it must be to be beyond your glass boundaries
see it’s right in your face, has been this whole time, screaming at you to turn around
as you limp away crippled from another failed forever, follow me
down into my hole, join me haunted by these ghosts and I’ll
hold your head down on my shoulder so you can cry your conscience clean
while taking little pieces away from the bottom of my heart
until it gets top heavy as you wave goodbye to me
W.I.P (Writing In Public)
She’s beautiful in my book
admittedly it’s not well read
critically acclaimed with grains of salt
weary eyes and heavy heads
She calls me icarus – I’m flying low to the forest
she’s too taken by bright sparks as flames rise before us
(she) shoots a look at me
down at the pen and pad
adjusts herself so she can read the words I’ve scribbled down and
I hand her the paper
she asks me if It’s mine
I say “I just gave it to you, didn’t I?”
She laughs at my reply
“I don’t say this very often
But I lie alot – it’s true
I’m a narcissist, I smile
’cause I see myself in you”
Requiem Aeternam Deo
Clouds terrace up from the horizon, I’m on
the ground looking up to get a new perspective on ’em
So sick of altitude fogging up my platitudes
making simple statements seem like I’ve been complimenting you
“heaven sent” “forgiveness” and “of the virtuous”
Altruism too absurd to be an act by any one of us
7 billion others hesitant to question their existence
but never falter when it comes a time to throw a closed fist
Hail Mary, Hail Mary, Hail Mary, Hail Caesar
Thumbs up or down, almighty geezer?
We break down the pillars and crumble the alters
that once held our glory so high out of reach
The marching of progress and faltering silence
as night closes in but we pierce it with speech
“God is dead
And we are the ones that killed him
so rest your head
on these collapsing buildings
there’s not much left here
only omnipotence decomposing in this tomb
we call a church”
We are the forsaken, guilt ridden
horses to the stream
No redemption awaits
fill up your blackened lungs and scream
speak
“God is dead and we are the ones who killed him”
so drown your books, that they may benefit your children
there’s not much left here, only figureheads
and shit
in this mausoleum
and its pulpit
Highschool bullshit 