sensing dis-satisfaction

when your idea of something is not your idea at all… that sensation will eventually lose its ‘sense’


Sometimes it feels as though

The ink’s run dry;

Thoughts, ideas escape,

_Inspirations are fake.

Sometimes it tastes as though

The flavours are bland;

No herbs, a lack of salt,

_A dish at fault.

Sometimes it appears as though

There’s nothing to see;

Same old, nothing new,

_Sights be few.

Sometimes it sounds as though

A record is stuck;


_as flat as the ground.

Sometimes it smells as though

Your nose is blocked;

Aroma none, numb and dull,

_A feast of hell.

Maybe this time a change must come;

New choices, new experiences

For all sensations,

_An adventure has begun.

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Here & now… (2018)

These seemingly distant memories,

Fading as your mind falls slowly…

Deep in the dark, you wish it sounded like a blackened lark,

But it told you something else…

And now you don’t know where you are or what you heard,

And you don’t know what you felt,

And that silly belt you fastened up for a ride.

But it’s no longer fun, you thought you had won last night,

And all you see is white;

Lights bright – hold tight you in for a ride;

Excite, that’s right until it’s not…

And you’re wrong – it’s wrong – Who’s wrong!?!

‘Not me?!’ … ‘mais si,’…

And so what’s it gonna be?

Rejection, dragon meat/meet

Is something jaded less troubling than something tainted?

There is a limit that my soul can handle,

despite the role which I played to bring about the distance,

Acknowledging the errors, accepting the consequences,

I realise there is still only so much I can take.


And while I respect the time that each person needs may be different,

I don’t believe that the devil should rest upon me until that time is up.

There is a moment where I become jaded in the face of it all,

And an inner dragon rises to devour the source of hatred that taints me,

Not physically, but emotionally.


The fire inside me cannot be put out, it lives tamely within always,

until rejection rears its ugly head, and the dragon decides it shall be dead,

Acceptance subconsciously decided by the fate of what lies within me.


Time revised -V2

One of the measurements of this thing we call life,

A way in which we make sense of day and night,

or let things break down after a fight.


They say time is a healer,

Time will tell.

The question is ‘what?’ and ‘when?’


If time is a healer, which of the pains will be healed first?

Which cause will get the better of the situation passed?

Healing aside, the final remaining pain, who is to gain?

and who do we blame?


Its never one, but two. Action, reaction;

conscious or not,

inherited or learned;

Who can tell the difference?

What does it even matter?


Is it you, or is it just a phase?

Will it go away eventually or will you simply learn to live with it?

Does it become your hidden dragon, or do you tame it to be free from darkness you wish to harness?


How can others understand what we don’t about ourselves?

Do they, do you, do we?

Who has the final word, are they always right…?

How does anyone know exactly what is out of sight?


Tiny turbulence, the effect of ripples, butterflies:

Is there really nothing or do we choose not to see;

Like a child playing dumb, blinded eyes succeed,

until the truth makes sense and sense come alive;

Momentary lapses, secondary to none, fire reignited.


Faded memories stop to lack luster;

vivid light, contrasting dark moons, shining back in their own way.

Purely flowing, the river tainted her soul;

hearts and hands. heavy, shamed.

Relativity solves the mysteries society tried to create;

where individuality is up for sale, humanity. hail.


red-handedly overwhelmed


And when it first hits, as the initial bite passes along and makes its way into your stomach…

You know its nowhere near the only feeling or emotion you have:

 at that exact moment, the moments before and the moments that have yet to arrive…

but they will. You know.


Suddenly there seems to be a lack of place… the spaces inbetween shrink, the air inside and out doesn’t flow quite the same anymore… your breathing… but you’re always made aware as each passing breath takes that much more effort and at the same time loses that much more comfort of which it normally would increase.


You watch as it depletes… and you know and you see how your belly grows…

in a moment you are taken away from it to be brought only to the attention of a seemingly possible question to ask, yet alone to answer.


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expect nothing …



Expect nothing and in return; a preparation and opportunity to be impressed… or depressed by that which comes from it; When your mind consumes that of anothers reaction, when you seem to stumble upon some god-given right to say that which is right…

well it’s simple really… the higher power we give many names and many a colourful explanation for, the thing none of our minds are surely able to fathom;

the power bestowed on you as we feel it is on “him”…

religion or none. I know if your breathing right now… you surely weren’t the one to create that which I live, walk through and breathe each day. That which my own eyes reveal to me. the seeing, tasting, smelling, touching, hearing… that which I spent my life entraining and tuning-in with…

If you plan to play it, be sure you can answer to that which is still to be answered…that which is still…

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