Change

I don’t want to change the world
With emotionless language
Over the structural defects
Of passive diplomatics
Bridges not yet burnt
Hailed by the press
A conclusive infomercial
Constitutional success
I might like this nightmare
Knowing which side to support
The perfect effigy to burn
Seasoned crop ready to spoil
A land there to repossess
With capital to acquire
Each city weighs a fortune
Till we redistribute the fire
Its bright lights lead the carnival
Marching victoriously to our square
A little light refreshment
From an artisan priced fair
Fight breaks out on the front line
Brave soldiers jab their paws
Into fascists and policemen
Freedom fighting against the law
The guardians of right
The enemies of wrong
Heavy handed sentence
For singing a protest song

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Change

Threat

I wear brave faces
Cool, emotionless
Contemptuous faces
Aloof, withdrawn
God given talent
To hide my fear
Of the unknown
What quest shall I seek?
The path of least resistance?
Bisecting the woods?
No. I will stand very, very still
If I don’t move
Nothing bad can happen
I don’t fight the urge
To lie down
I think about being exploited
By messages I haven’t sent
Treating friends as threats
Not kind, caring people
I try to get through
To make sense
But tense as I am
It falls on deaf ears
Curled into a ball
Hairs standing on end
Waiting for the threat
To reveal itself
All it takes is time

Threat

Sheets

I see untamed hair
An uncropped image
The shame of imperfection
Pale body deficient in
Holding its A game
Without straining
Unsupervised shoulders droop
Causing a gut reaction
This is what I am
A bacterial infestation
Chemistry experimenting
With different toxins
A fluttering heart
When joined in person
Saliva drips giving
Mouth-to-mouth
But watch me sleep
And you’ll soon see
That I harbour a human
Underneath the sheets

Sheets

Let

I wait
In a bedroom
Nothing quite seems
Like my own
The walls held
By cold commercial
Hands wringing sails
Offshore, somewhere
The sun sets but
Not on this bed
Or this desk
Cheap wooden ideals
That I didn’t fit
Dark red swells
A mist descends
What license do I need
To disrupt a party
Of homeowners?
With their credit cheques
Despotic slips
I’m small change
In paper terms
But it’s tangible
When they turn
The handle to enter
How much must I pay to keep
The ogres from breaking
Into what is theirs
By law, and brute force
But will never be
A place they call home

Let

Ode to a Poor Screaming Child Afraid of The Heat Death of The Universe

I have a primal urge to find a lifelong mate
I’m a hidden treasure to excavate
Thoughtful child of thirty-one
Enjoys self-destruction in the sun
Morosely prodding intrusive thoughts
I like to write lists of all my faults
My larynx works, my posture bent
Still haven’t learn to pitch a tent
Outside, there’s danger at every turn
A mollusc, a man, a lesson to learn
But sod the local earth-centric view
I think about the intergalactic news
A tiny spec of cosmic dust
Who thinks about the universe
How its matter will lose its spark
From my carbon to a tiny quark
It’s absurd to feel a sexual need
To reproduce a miniature version of me
A skulking toddler, leans into my ear
Asks “Daddy, why on Earth am I here?”
I can’t explain the causal link
Between the anthropocene and kitchen sink
Maybe I made a huge mistake
But now I know, it’s far too late
To be the seed that won the race
To fear the vacuum outside of space
I sleep on borrowed time and breath
From a Universe ever nearing its heat death

Ode to a Poor Screaming Child Afraid of The Heat Death of The Universe

Prime

Dead people sing in old styles
About love and being young
At a prime number, like 29
Unplugged and unafraid
A sweet phrasing of words
Hopeful naivety over the
Swinging rhythm and bass
Lines cauterised, verbosity subtle
But never simply ending
By premeditated rhyme
It’s the cut we hear, I suppose
Not the toil and torment it took
Nor the fear of a godless universe
A painful death, and an unending
Downward slope with an
Exponential curve like
An old lady’s spine
Youth is wasted, but fearing
Death wastes years when
A body is at its best, mind sharp
Dexterous limbs seek new thrills
Habits that last a minute
Or form lifelong bonds
Until each record starts to break

Prime

Blades

Sadness is low signal
Not able to participate
In clickonomics.
A fizz of adrenaline
Spending less than
It ought to cost
The component breaks
As quickly as the last.
I’ve resorted to impulse
Buying wardrobes
In the hope of meeting
The man of my dreams
In another case of
False advertising.
Boredom is where
The dread lurks
Nervous ticks keep
Holding the fort
Alive and breathing
Heavy sweat
Legs aching
The weight of
Nothing cutting
Through shoulder
Blades like grass

Blades