In space, no one can hear you
Lean
Beef patties pressed on a
Machine
Based learning algorithms and
Schemes
And this bass when it drops well you know it’s
Obscene
And you recognise his
Face
‘Cause you’ve seen it in
Dreams
And you’re starting to
Think
This might be exactly what you
Need
To replace what remains of
Who
You used to be

I don’t write rhymes
I write wrongs
These aren’t just poems
These are songs
These ain’t just songs
These are psalms
Someone better psalm the alarm
And the crowd gonna raise up they arms

As they worship the latest Messiah
These words branding your soul like a fire
These words branding your soul as a fighter
Already your burdens begin to feel lighter
Now his words are all that you require
Within reach now is all you desire
Everyone else now just seems like a liar
Everyone else is a psychic vampire

Happy little worker bee,
Working for the colony,
Making honey for a Queen,
That you’ve never even seen.

Someone speaks in the distance
It sounds like my mum’s voice
It’s not my mum’s voice
She’s dead

as i walk past random houses
i can’t help but wonder
if there is anybody trapped inside

there is beauty
in a fleeting beam
of sunlight
as it wanes
and night sounds fill the twilight
wind whispers through the glades
shadows lengthen
wearily
as they to lay down to rest

Fuck I’m so sad

Tiny flame dwindling

Like a frown at the edge of space-time

On the ledge of space-time

Where I can see the whole universe

Arranged in columns of stars

And light sparks between clouds

Of nebulous gas

Giving rise to creation

Creating this feeling

Of divine isolation

In the cold and the dark

Where the orbs spin

And distant flames dwindle

And twinkle

As though it’s the same thing

The sane thing

To be distracted by light

Like moths swarming a bulb

Seeking warmth / Seeking death

In the sizzling caress

Of the flame and the glass

Like a glass window pane

The pain is ingrained in me

It goes on and on

Like some old song

Cobbled together

From all I’ve done wrong

And from old nursery rhymes

Rhyming slang / Guitar twang

The phone rang

In my memories like a harpy

Yet I cannot sink

Cannot think

In this darkness

In

This

Abyss

Unmoving

A bubble escapes from my lips

As I gasp

What is this?

My body suspended

In a body of water

Suspended in space

My heart’s starting to race

And my thoughts can’t keep pace

With the weight of disgrace

And my shoes are unlaced

What I’m trying to say is

I’m trying to stay

Grounded

On the earth

And its tectonic plates

Rocky pinnacle untouched

And ever unseen

So remains like a dream

Long forgotten

Long turned rotten

In the back of my mind

Like a miner

Pickaxe striking at

My amygdala

Wounded snake

Driven mad

Rising up now and biting

Not because I am angry

But because I am frightened

Of men and their nets

And the battles they’re fighting

Lightning upon the plains

Scorches whole fields with blame

I’m so lame

I’m so lame

And fuck I’m so scared

Wish I’d been prepared

For this

all we love
and all we are
will quickly pass away
“the void! the void!”
i shout it out
they do not shout
because they are afraid
“the void! the void!”
fills up our sky
our minds
our hearts
yet for so long as we exist
we are a voice against that void
however ineffectual
we are something brilliant sparking
they call it “intellectual”
but what point is there of being… intellectual
in a universe like this?
no rhyme, nor reason, justifies why we exist
“anomaly! anomaly!”
that is what humans be
and most are merely bleating sheep
who do not wish to see
and if they saw
that gaping maw
they’d scream
if sheep could scream
and they would wonder “is there more?”
beyond this sight unseen?
“unseen! unseen!”
within a dream
lies all that we have lost
we carry each loss forward
each one bearing its own cost
is it PENNIES sir
or is it POUNDS
or is it EURO DOLLARS
are euro dollars even real?
i think and my rhymes falter,
what is this life?
what is it?
i do not comprehend
i know not where i started
and i know not when it will end
“not yet!” i say
“NOT YET!” i say
there’s things yet to be done
NOT YET becomes my battle cry
like the beating of a drum
NOT YET
NOT YET
NOT YET
NOT YET
i will find a way
to meet the future that approaches
and face the passing of each day

it’s falling from the sky
we’re all gonna die
i don’t know what to do
me either
wanna get high?

(and watch the sky together
come apart in streams of light)

wanna bleat
like a sheep
and fall in a heap
forget who you are
and pretend while you weep
tears that are dry
cos you can’t even cry
cos your brain has been altered by SSRI
so consider the rhyme
consider the season
consider the reason you’re reading this wisdom
this wisdom? or is it
something else instead
is it memories of people
who’re already dead
and recounted by fingers
that can sense the unsaid