Poets With Instruments.

18-6-10
Poets.With.Instruments.
They save lives by singing words
that I relate to, do you understand?
They are simply the poets with instruments,
A modern take on 17th century literature,

Clever word-play and a beautiful strum,
A fast wit and the strategic hit of a drum,
A voice of talent with such a range,
And they might seem a little different, a little strange,
The thing is though, they just got brains.

They save lives by singing words
that distract me from my own life,
They are simply the poets with instruments,
A modern take on 17th century literature,

Pretty patterns weaved with poised pens,
A whole record of truth worth a listen,
A clash of sounds with such a range,
And they may seem a little different, a little strange,
The thing is though, they just got brains.

They save lives by simply using words
the way they should be used in love letters,
They save lives by simply using words
the way they should be used in hate letters,

From arrogance to bouts of low self esteem,
From love to hate and back again,
A mix of feelings about such a range,
And they may seem a little different, a little strange,
The thing is though, they just got brains.

They are simply the poets with instruments.

14-6-10
Play dough lips tell made up secrets,
Just to make the spaghetti squirm in your head,
And finger painting wasn’t meant to be a life lesson
for the kid who got pushed out of the way
‘you’ll never (ever) make a mark on the world,
you worthless piece of”

Playtime always ends a mess,
It looks all so innocent – toys
strewn all across the floor,
There’s nothing innocent about playing doctor.

Imaginary friends help you to live,
Inside a world without all the other kids,
Who steal your crayons and push you aside
and take your turn and deliver the
“you’ll never [ever] make a mark on the world,
you worthless piece of”

Playtime always ends a mess,
It looks all so innocent – toys
strewn all across the floor,
There’s nothing innocent about playing doctor.

“You’re already so good at pretending,
A perfect candidate for the unimaginable,
Start imagining now, kid, you’re somewhere else,
You’re not being manipulated and hurt,
And stop thinking, stop thinking,
‘Even being picked on by the bigger kids
is so much better than this, than this’”

Playtime always ends a mess,
It looks all so innocent – toys
strewn all across the floor,
If only you knew what I hid in the drawer.

Playtime always ended a mess,
None of it was near innocent,
as my insides writhed,
I, a young child, simply forgot to cry.

14-6-10
It’s that flash you see out the corner of your eyes
that you have to hold on forever, never let it fall
from your two hands, you might just never find it again,

oh, what a, oh, what a mess
I have found myself immersed in,
oh, what a, oh, what a mess
I have found myself the creator of,
oh, what a, oh, what a mess.

It’s the pull you feel as it slips through your fingers
that you have to get a grip on, never let it fall
from your two hands, you might just never find it again,

oh, what a, oh, what a mess
I have found myself immersed in,
oh, what a, oh, what a mess
I have found myself the creator of,
oh, what a, oh, what a mess.

It’s the strain in your arms as you tug it all back
and ‘I’ll never let this go now that I’ve got it’
in these two hands, I will keep it pinned to my chest,

Don’t you keep your head buried
in your palms, won’t you keep your head
where your hands are, and then your head,
your wrists, your throat, your hands,
your heart might just stay intact.

oh, what a, oh what a mess
I have found myself immersed in,
oh, what a, oh, what a mess
I have found myself the creator of,
oh, what a, oh, what a mess

and oh, what a story I will have to tell
oh, when I realize these hands can
lift this chin, these eyes to a level
oh, where I look at the world, unafraid.

9-6-10
The eyes are your best shot,
Because my tongue hides in the back
of my throat too afraid to even
greet my teeth let alone the light
that shines through when my lips
are pried apart, but I only ever lie.

I just bite my lip to stay silent,
I just hold my bottom lip down
with my front teeth, just so I don’t
say anything I’ll end up regretting.

The eyes are your best shot,
Because my tongue hides in the back
of my throat too shy to even
greet my teeth let alone the light
that shines through when my lips
are pried apart, but I only ever lie.

I just bite down my mind,
Just to hold the truth inside
with my fear, just so I don’t
make another thousand mistakes

Even the eyes are learning to lie,
As my tongue hides in the cave
of my throat – finding it hard to
swallow and clenched fists tell
more than my mouth ever will,
Body language is a luxury,
Body language is my worst enemy.

14-6-10
I hear this faint k-k-knocking
inside my head, I think it’s all my problems
reorganizing themselves in an order
that can be dealt with,

I think, I don’t count on it but I think,
it might just be hope.

I hear this faint c-c-clunking
inside my head as I recycle every bottle
and the air is replaced with a foreign
object that might help,

I think, I don’t count on it but I think,
it might just be hope.

I hear this faint s-s-screaming
inside my head – I still have issues
but sometimes I am free, for now
that will have to do,

I think, don’t you dare quote me,
this head, this heart may have found
a little hope.

14-6-10
I hear this faint k-k-knocking
inside my head, I think it’s all my problems
reorganizing themselves in an order
that can be dealt with,

I think, I don’t count on it but I think,
it might just be hope.

I hear this faint c-c-clunking
inside my head as I recycle every bottle
and the air is replaced with a foreign
object that might help,

I think, I don’t count on it but I think,
it might just be hope.

I hear this faint s-s-screaming
inside my head – I still have issues
but sometimes I am free, for now
that will have to do,

I think, don’t you dare quote me,
this head, this heart may have found
a little hope.

I’m hiding my body under blankets,
Just like I’m hiding secrets under my skin,

And I’m building cities out of pills,
And the rivers aren’t running innocent water,
And I drive a car made from an old
pharmacist’s box and it goes pretty fast and crazy
when I pull on the lid-of-a-bottle steering wheel,
And my future’s being painted in blood
all over this addictive town.
I’m hiding my feelings in metaphors,
Just like I’m hiding injuries under clothes,

And I’m building cars out of old pill boxes,
The acceleration pedal pours something dangerous,
And the brake pedal is brief sobriety,
I’m driving around in circles and I’m trying to open,
I’d rather die jumping out of a moving car than…
I’d rather but the child lock has been put on,

Just like I’m hiding my sick skeletons
In a closet that never seems to end,

And don’t you know I’m not a kid anymore?
(When laughter rips open your jaw)
This isn’t funny anymore,
(When the punch line hit my gut,
then my head, then my gut again
when I was down -
sprawled and distraught)
And the tragic punch line is the fact that
I was never really a kid at all.

13/5/10

I have been lying down for too long, your
footprints mark my head and stomach darkly,
I won’t do this anymore, no I am standing up
to meet you, I’ll squeeze your hand to let you know
that I am serious about this.

I am sitting up, my feet are working tough,
The bones in my back ache after such a long rest,
But I am using my spine now, oh I am using
my courage to tell you where to go.

I have let the reins fall too long, your
hands gripping white knuckled in control,
I won’t do this anymore, no I am reaching over
to take the reins, I’ll pull and pull to let you know
that I am serious about this.

I am sitting up, my feet are working tough,
The bones in my back ache after such a long rest,
But I am using my spine now, oh I am using
my courage to tell you where to go.

I don’t feel I need you anymore,
I used to say I’d be lost without you,
But now I am only confused around you,

And I took a shower and washed
every footprint off and I am holding these
reins so tight my fingers bleed,
But I am in control.

I am sitting up, my feet are working tough,
The bones in my back ache after such a long rest,
But I am using my spine now, oh I am using
my courage to tell you to…

leave me alone, I won’t lie down in front of you anymore,
I am not yours to puppeteer anymore,
And I love the sound of my back when it cracks
Because I know my spine has toughened up
and now I feel alive.

16-4-10

There’s all these songs goin’ round,
With boys screaming into microphones,
About broken hearts and bleeding wrists,
Wearing dark make up and resenting everything
and everyone, it’s a hole so deep,
an obsession, an addiction so strong.

To keep oneself so sick in one’s head,
To keep oneself so lonely all the time.

There’s all these kids that’re listenin’
to other kids screaming into microphones,
About real loneliness and deep sorrow,
Wearing frowns and swallowing funny pills,
and drinks, it’s a hole so deep,
an obsession, an addiction so strong.

To keep oneself so sick in one’s head,
To keep oneself so lonely all the time.

There’s this real dangerous craze
going around where kids are all cutting,
Now despite beliefs, this ain’t a joke,
Kids smoking and wearing horrible scars,
no tears, it’s a hole so deep,
an obsession, an addiction so strong.

To never believe in anything,
Then you can’t get disappointed,
To never have any hopes at all,
Then you can’t fall any further,
What a stupid hopeless myth
What a stupid hopeless mess you’re in, kid.

14-4-10
My mind holds a ‘under construction’
sign up loud and clear, I’m not really here,
I’m just gritting my teeth and hurting my jaw,
I’m closing my eyes and trying not to cry,
And I’m aching for a poison, aching for…

you, if I could say my last words
(Can’t believe I can’t remember)
I’d make them something strong
Like I love you, simply true,
If I could say my last words, again.

My body holds a ‘under construction’
sign up not so loud and not so clear,
I’m falling apart on the inside hiding it all,
I’m closing your eyes and I will not cry,
And I’m constantly aching for…

you, if I could say my last words
(Can’t believe I can’t remember)
I’d make them something strong
Like I love you, simply true,
If I could say my last words, again.

My mind holds a ‘under construction’
sign up loud and clear, I am screaming it out here,
I’m clenching my jaw and grinding my teeth,
I’m closing all the eyes and I will not cry,
And I’m aching for more than a poison…

you, if I could say my last words
(Can’t believe I can’t remember)
I’d make them something strong
Like I love you, simply true,
If I could say my last words, again.

I am aching…

to give you my last words again,
Can’t believe I can’t even remember,
I’d love to tell you how I love you,
I’d love to hear you tell how you love me,
I hope you know, I hope you know how I
loved you so even though I never called,
I am aching to have you know.

23-04-10
I wrote a list of all my mistakes
(Oh how my hand does ache)
Plastered them all over my walls
(switched to my right hand)
It wasn’t punishment enough so I folded
out my eyelids
(and switched back to my left again)
Stapled every one in such a way if I open
my eyes they begin to bleed
So I’ve been lying wide awake – eyes
closed
With every stupid, pathetic mistake.

9-4-10

On the window ledge sits such an array of items;
a half empty glass, a razor, a pen and some blank paper.

Out the window – oh what a beautiful view;
the pink sun set, the rising moon and a stillness in the air…

On the window ledge sits such an array of items;
an empty glass, a blunt razor, a pen and poem, and a hand.

Out the window – oh how the beauty does fade;
the sun has sunk, the moon’s not bright and the air is moving…

On the window ledge sits such an array of items;
a half empty glass, a tragic poem and a set of toes.

Out the window – oh how the beauty does fade;
the moon rising high, creating such a dark shadow, such a…

On the window ledge sits such an array of items;
an empty glass, a broken shard, a tragic poem and a foot.

Out the window – oh how the ugly does arise;
the sky casts such miserable reflections, the air steals these words…

On the window ledge sits such a misery;
an empty glass, a broken shard, more than a drop of blood,
On the window ledge sits such a tragedy;
a broken shard covered in blood, and a pouring, shaking hand.

And on the window ledge sits a life;
a hand, a foot – now two, a heart carved out
and thrown into the air as a body neither passes
nor fails its last lesson – to fly to freedom.

30-3-10

Insides, insides, colliding
but not quite combining
to fight together but to
fight one another, forces
me to my knees, my feet
are facing upward, I’m
sliding down and I can’t
move a muscle – swat a fly,
whimper or even scratch
that itch on my face, I
am sliding so quickly now,
the dirt is shooting up my
nostrils, luckily my mouth
is stapled closed, it was
always stapled closed,
maybe if I’d just torn them
quick, like a band-aid, I’d
still be above ground,
right now, so much shame,
so unclean, so worthless,
I can’t talk of it, think of it
without bleeding a little,
I can’t talk of it, think of it
with crying a little,
I don’t mind the bleeding,
it’s what I know I deserve,
but I really do hate to cry,
I don’t mind the bleeding,
it’s what I know I deserve,
but I really do hate the way
my eyes feel, the way my throat
swells, the way my head hurts,
the taste of my tears, the overwhelming
weakness, vulnerability
of when I cry.

29-3-10

The glass begins to slip from my grip,
And with my other hand, I grab at my wrist,
And quickly guide the drink to my waiting lips,
And then everything is oh,
And everything is quite alright.

And I, and I, and I
only last a couple of days
I know I am a failure,
I shouldn’t be in this room,
But in my own sculling away,
I’m only twenty,
I’m not quite ready,
To change my life.

The liquids quickly begins to disappear,
I watch it sink and sink and right in my ear,
‘Just one more, it won’t hurt’ is all I hear,
And then everything is oh,
And everything is quite alright.

And I, and I, and I
only last a couple of days
I know I am a failure,
I shouldn’t be in this room,
But in my own sculling away,
I’m only twenty,
I’m not quite ready,
To change my life.

So, so quickly I throw this down
so, so quickly to my calling throat,
I should be throwing this to the ground…

But I’m not ready for out.
I’m not ready to give this up.
I’m just a kid, how’d I wind up
like this? I’m just a kid,
all my friends are doing this,
I just take it a little far…
I just concentrate on keeping my eyes
alive on the way to the hospital.

18-3-10

Have you ever been so sure
of something so unnatural
that it feels like a dream
except your eyes are widening
at every turn, threatening
to jump right out of their sockets
in an attempt of suicide ‘cause
the things they see are just too…

Have you ever been so sure
of yourself that you’d walk on
your hands on a balcony
and scrunch up your eyes in a
pretence of concentration,
but really just wanting to be the life
of the party before you
attempt suicide, once again I…

Have you ever looked up too quickly,
And had the colours of a room drip
through your vision in shapes, distortions
that frighten you still and seize up every muscle,
Have you ever lied to yourself to calm yourself,
Like that breeze on my neck is not real,
Like that whisper my ear was in my head,
Like that hand in my hand is just my blanket,
And like I’ll be around to see all this when I’m…

Oh, what a party trick.

9-3-10
Taking every precaution, I throw
my can under my clothes when
there’s a knock at the door and I try
hard not to breathe ‘cause I’m in deep
and I know it must be obvious as I hold
the doorframe for balance and as I look
the other way when I speak, but so openly
I laugh, I joke, I amaze myself at what a liar,
what an actor I am, forget all of those pretty faces
and throw me the Oscar for this performance,
And this is just the introduction, wait until
the opening night tonight, wait for the
performance awaiting you, awaiting
you on this stage. The world’s a stage
and I’m merely a drunk stumbling over it..

9-3-10
I hang on your every word
Yet I don’t’ think you notice the noose
hanging from your fingers
and tied so tight around my neck.

I hang on your every word
even when you’re belittling me
I grasp them all
and repeat them all in my head
(When you’re not available)

I swing from your arms
Yet I don’t think you feel the rope tighten
around your wrist as I jump
through every single hoop you set.

I swing from your arms
Running slowly out of room to breathe
as my lungs contract
I would die so easily for you, in fact…

It may sound crazy but sometimes i
wish that I could just die for you.

it kind of is a bit too teenage angsty,but oh well.

9-3-10
That snap. That fizz.
Like music. Suits all the tunes
I listen to, angst-filled and
confessing secrets while keeping
the truth in our back pocket.

(That snap. That fizz.)
That rush of liquid through my lips.
I savor, I scull and I am
filled with relief, knowing it won’t
last and keeping the truth…

That snap. That fizz.
I love how cold a can stays
in the drawer in my desk.
I think this is the time I should pick
up the phone but I’m…

Such a wuss, such a wimp.
I just tell myself a few more sips
and I’ll have the confidence but I…
I…

Am falling. That snap. That fizz.
How I love this song. How it paints
my life on my retina’s. Closed doors,
Open drawers, closed eyes.

Oh, how I hope this is more than angst-y
teenage poetry, because I’m not that young
anymore, despite every wish and every attempt,
Somehow I reached beyond everything I never
ever wanted. Now I’m…

That snap. That fizz.
Oh how I wish to be drunk.
I remind myself to drink a little faster,
Oh, how full my stomach feels.
Oh, how ill my stomach feels,
Yet how strong my tongue does call.

31-3-10
I (sh)shuffle forwards
with these tiny careful toes,
I run, sprint backwards
with these eager but tiptoes.

Why is everything I do so silent?
My toes are so sore from creeping,
Why is everything I do such a secret?
Good or bad, my feet are worn out.

I (sh) shuffle forwards
with this finger to my lips
so as not to get any
hopes up before I fall again.

Why is everything I do kept a secret?
Behind my gnawed lips, behind my sore teeth,
Why is everything I do locked in my throat?
Good or bad, my vocals chords could use a stretch…

I run, sprint backwards
with this finger to my lips
so as not to crush any
body, I’ll fix this all alone.

Or simply pretend, oh my feet have had
practice, oh my mouth is an expert,
Oh my feet are used to this dance,
and my mouth can sing the song,
line for line, lie for lie, and barely in
a whisper, just the way it’s all meant
to be…

I (sh) shuffle forwards
or I run, sprint backwards,
Same quiet, silent scenario.

30-3-10

My head under the pillow,
my body curled tight
like my eyes blocking out
all the light, I pull the blanket
over me,
trying to pretend another
day is not about to kill me.

When I can sleep no more,
I sit up miserably, I shake my head,
I shake my body, I shake my hands,
and I pinch my wrists, just trying
to wake up.

My feet flat on the floor,
my socks far away
like my sighing shoes my
mind is astray, I shake and
shake and,
try to pretend another day
is not going to be so hard.

I cross my arms, hold myself together,
and I shake, I shake, I shake,
I hold my shoulders and I shake,
I shake, I shake until…

my head hurts, my eyes hurt,
my shoulders and my neck have cramps,
and I still look miserably at the floor
and at my socks, so far away…

I cannot seem to make my body bend,
not today.

Whispers and dreams.

14+18-3-10

A young woman, she works
on a wooden desk with a pen
spitting ink on parchment after parchment,
then her eyes show it first, widening -
she clutches her chest -
she falls to the floor, with her eyes
chasing the base of her skull.

A whisper in her ear – are you satisfied?

A mother, she holds
children exuding such life
spitting out orders to child after child,
then her eyes show it first, widening -
she clutches her chest -
she falls to the floor, with her eyes
chasing the base of her skull.

A whisper in her ear – are you yet satisfied?

Elderly now, yet still
the young run around
contrasting the differing mortalities,
then her eyes show it first, widening -
she clutches her chest -
she falls to the floor, with her eyes
chasing the base of her skull.

A whisper in her ear – now what matters?

A flash – young, old, older.
Then with a shudder, her eyes do fly open,
She contemplates and rubs her chest -
takes her pulse and worries as it quickens
and it quickens as she worries.