Stormy weather verses a wall and a lighthouse

A wave raced like a thousand damned horsemen,
Competing to be the first to be dashed against the cold warn sea wall,
As if summoned by a supernatural superior call.


The lighthouse which overhung this deathly scene,
Sat still and serene just as it had since nineteen fourteen,
It had lasted the bombings from Hitler and Hun,
But in the year of our lord nineteen ninety one,
This heroic saviour of ships was finally undone.


The waves came, the waves broke,
But the sea wall held strong like a fine noble Oak,
Took three score violent undulations and ten,
To undermine the stone at the base of the wall,
Then one by one they began to fall,
To become lost in the sea and manipulated by squall.


Soon the lighthouse had no defender,
And if it had the breath and voice of a sane man,
It would scream for mercy and for surrender.
But the sea had no sympathy and soon began,
The demise of this solitary spot,
By pounding its door with the strength of an artillery shot.


The noise alone could have broken the door,
The staircase the bed and torn up the floor.


The tower toppled with the subtle grace of a bomb,
Destroyed instantly on impact,
With the victor, the sea,
Splintering out of existence,
Time shows that without persistence
Remembrance of courage is lost and not retrieved
And in a generation forgotten
The site of our hero now overgrown and rotten



http://officeofstrategicinfluence.com/calm/wentloog2.jpg

hopefuly this dream will not turn sour

My eyes are as moist as dust
And this dead euphoric energy
Will make my temples burst
I got a feeling in my gut like getting older
Growing colder and becoming fatter
Going nowhere
Like a toy with only one functioning leg
I limp around the same track
Stalked by a hungry malevolent cleg

My ambitions float carelessly into dreams
Those are forgotten like a fascist regime
Only to be picked up by descendants of mine
Prepared for the virtue but not for the time

A dream turned sour
A boy turned old
A cult moral turned law
A baby turned w----

Quiet girl in lost in the middle of the class

She sat on an island in the middle of the class,

Shivering tanned skin delightfully exposed like brown polished brass.

She sat there mellow and unique in her anonymity.

Seemingly possessing limitless equanimity.

She was not known to me or me to her.

But our eyes connected for a second or two,

And I instantaneously was disorientated by a brown blur,

As her eyes saluted me in an almost adieu,

Then were snapped from my oversolicitous view.

my mind slips, and my body falls

My mind slips monotonously back,

To the hours that felt like minuets,

Spent off the beaten lonely track,

Where my single but whole heart beat till it burst.

The blood may have stained you.

But it stained me worst.

And the seconds that we thriftlessly threw away,

Admiring skin like porcelain clay.

I’d like to claw back to relive and recreate some day,

In a different place very far away.

This time,

With somebody who’s heart is less likely to decay,

I have too many regrets to have any at all,

But you’ll stay high on my list till judgement day.

For you made my heart into a medicine ball,

To heavy to carry on my sleeve or behind my ribs.

Though one day I hope to enthral,

Enchant and bewilder you all,

By wielding my love like a blade of a sword,

Hording a pile of victims which I shall adore.

damn your holy deity

Goddamn your holy deity,

That one who keeps you safe.

The one promoting homogeneity,

Heterosexuality and preaching hypocritical faith.

You will always find what you seek,

And a way to get there,

In the book so oblique,

And a quick evening prayer.

But somebody always will pay,

Be them atheist blind of meek.

Your Aryan race,

Blind believers of lies,

That begot difference among us all.

Now we stand in two armies,

Living and breathing together,

United by acceptance,

Bifurcated by belief,

But only one ever preaches,

To a troubling extent,

Gripping violently and ignorantly,

To the fist of deity.

The empty spaces in the sky.

Scared of control of destiny.

unconformist

To sit still in the heat of a battle,

To lay down while horse and cattle,

Ride past with blithering velocity,

Not showing a hint of curiosity,

That is true strength of mind.

Not giving in to human wishes and wants’,

Like fine wine and debutantes,

For heavy indulgence of this sort,

Will leave you under stimulated with nobody to court,

A blasé and nonchalant nature,

Will make you far greater off,

Socially, morally and mentally,

Than if you conformed to peoples worst expectations.

Blind conformist behaviour.

That is unintelligence in its rawest form.

Of which I on one to many occasions,

Have sunken to and become,

The source of all devastation,

Conflict and near hospitalisation.

To Vicci, with deepest sympathy and regret.

With hindsight comes clarity,

Of why the blame is on me,

And my dark irregular popularity.

I thought you asked too much of me,

When you demanded that I;

The gregarious unconventional conventionalist,

Stay sane within insanity.

But now through more wrinkled eyes,

With a personality uncivilised,

And declared statistically criminalised,

I see your point.

Many months too late;

To make you my soul mate,

I know I will never see your face again,

That face that inspired such lust for love,

And love of all things new.

Nor shall I sense your euphoric ambience,

That invoked a quintessential need for passion and romance.

This thought could bring a tear to my eye,

If I had a heart that could cry,

A brain that could function,

Further than erections and imperfections,

In my own reflection.

powercut

the lights went out,
and we rendered ourselves helpless.
nothing to do, nothing to see,
nothing to be but me.

fumbling desperately to find anything,
anything close to civilised comfort.

i realised my lonliness of late,
now the lights started to disapate.

the charictors of my personalities past,
come to stay in brightness but not ever to last.

in the darkness i see my friends more shadowed parts,
all the darts to all the pictures of faces,
suddenly become illuminated,
by the darkness which casts a funny light on us all.
it renders us all helpless,
to a sinners song, a human call.

and as i clutch this once white paper,
i realised life's true meening is meeningless.
its not to find him or not even her,
but to find a path to happyness,
and never ever get lost.

fork in life

in life a fork in the path comes,
just after you've finished your irrelevent summs.
just before you start to pave an untrodden way,
on soils of unset clay.

past present future.

are the stark choises given.
not tied with bow and ribbon,
but with tears and sweat,
caused by fear and regret.

the past tells you to live alone,
polishing a heart of warm stone.

the present tells you to live too close to the fire.
your heart on sale to any buyer.

the future tells you to live and conform,
to all evils of the social norm.
to work too hard,
for the establishment,
you didn't vote for.

drugs are for mugs

Love is class A

For life’s unfulfilled

The fix

Three words they say

Makes your vision blurred

And perception hazy

On things

That would normally make you crazy

Company is class B

For more clever kids

The fix

His mitts o your mitts

Makes the hours faster

Then we are young

Who says

It still doesn’t make your pulse run

You are class C

For I myself and me

The fix

You touching my knee

Makes me sound like a twat

And you blush blood red

And wish you were dead

I suppose its good

I don’t know you yet

valentinenio part I, II

Valentinenio part I

Eyes wide though lazy eyed

Nights awake, days tired

Sleep well tonight

Feeling dissatisfied

Face relaxed watching yours

Beautifully stoned we were together alone

A moment paused, illegally caused

And I liked it

I feel you breathing

And the fingers I’m feeling

Almost stop me breathing

I feel your heart race

As we imbrace

Not to firm just incase

Time to go back

I try to give up

Like your laced with crack

No escape from this

Euphoric disease

Let it take me

Give me a helping hand

To help me stand

In sinking sand

I hope you understand

What this means

If so

Take my hand

And away we can fly

Or at least waste some time

How does that sound

You can take my feet of solid ground

We can run into our minds

Real life is filled with mines

So keep ourselves to ourselves

And we’ll avoid all perils

II

A letter to my valentine

Telling her how bright she shines

Who knows what goes

So if I lick your nose

Or act thick

Forgive me?

The first letter of my valentine

Is E

And is ohh so fine

Me looking at you makes you look back just as hard as I looked in the first place, so I stare

Looking at you looking at me

In my eyes what do you see?

An explosion of colour and light

Or a fiery passion burning bright

Looking at you I see

Mountains in your eyes

And on reaching the top

Love is the prize

And with your skin

So close imperfections

Would normally be seen

But I see no floors or infections

They say love is blind

Then how comes

I can still see you

Although

Even without the aid of suns

Your presence will still give me tingles

Looking at you looking at me

It feels blissful just to be

Me

why i went away

Is he merely the complication,

Who moves away half way through the book?

As she waves him goodbye,

No kisses blown from Cambridge station.

Is he the man,

Who takes the heroine down to the broke,

And romantically confesses true intensions,

Of blissful unity and euphoric calibration?

A true friend until the gray and wrinkled end.

To love this character is a thought,

Easy to justify hard to comprehend.

Lustier in his warm dark eyes,

Comparable to the warm summer skies,

You betrayed him under.

Although when you told him honest,

His eyes did not turn to thunder.

Merely regret for wasting a pumping heart,

On a romance which never saw the start.

Did you ever wonder why he moved away?

Inquire into what he had to say?

Look deep into your heart,

When his fell into disarray?

You were why I went away.