Reminiscent Futures

Our lives extend out around us as a nexus of interconnecting paths of chance,

Shining golden threads leading off into unseen darkness like jellyfish in the ocean’s abyss.

A million unknown directions and encounters, each a siren singing us to an eventual demise.

Some we see with dread, others we paint as opulent images of bliss,

Grasping for the right threads to cling to as we drag ourselves from present to future,

Over a concurrent chain of neglected days that pass away beneath our calloused notice.

Dreaming of the future like a precious childhood memory,

Even as we twin these thoughts with past nostalgia that never was.

Always we flee blindly from the cliff ledge of death,

Yet are keenly aware of its creeping presence as the void erodes the earth.

Final, inevitable, it follows at our heels and awaits us at our destination,

But we continue to run, some thrashing with life while others are numb,

Chasing a tomorrow that never arrives,

Or a dream that never dies…

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Our Father who isn’t in Heaven.

Something a little bit different today. Another poem I wrote in lesson when bored but this is far from simple. I can’t tell if it is mindless ramblings or something thought provoking. I’ll let you guys be the judge. If you’re religious, I apologise if it causes offence.


God. The Father, the Son and the bastard ghost

The mirage in the sweltered landscape of humanity

As true as anything in a false world

Of false people who wander through life

Like sheep to be flocked Continue reading

Poem: The Thoughts of a Friend.

Here is a little poem I wrote when I was bored in lesson. A cute little bit of fun. Enjoy.


The Thoughts of a Friend.

Running

Grass becomes fields becomes streets

Feet slow

Cars Cars Cars

Chase

Bound by neck but chase the same

Happiness

Smells fill the air

Acrid, sweet

Padding feet

Wolf down forgotten chip

See the catcatcatcatcat

Bark

Gone

Tail wags powered by joy

Home

Treats and a hand

Pat pat pat

Fuss fuss fuss

Wag wag wag

Bliss.

The pointlessness of my course.

So as some of you might know, I am in my third year of a Creative Writing course at university. I don’t much like it. To tell you all the reasons why would be an entire dissertation so for now I will simply say, it is all pointless.

Last week on a module called Experimental Writing (which sounds pretentious as hell) we spent two and a half hours studying a poem by Gertrude Stein called ‘A Completed Portrait of Picasso’ (Read it here: http://www.english.upenn.edu/~jenglish/Courses/Spring02/104/steinpicasso.html. If you can make it to the end without losing a shard of your mind then you are a better person than me. (Or are insane). I lost the will to continue at this point and longed for a strong drink to destroy even the memory of the poem. Continue reading