Rush Hour

The clouds above London are tinged with bold but dying sunlight.
Solemn, suited bankers, brokers and bureaucrats crowd the causeway,
Long legs swing from bar stools, blue veins throb as pale knuckles tighten
Around dripping pint glasses, staining crinkled, crumpled shirts.
Painted goddesses smile from lighted shop windows,
And a rainstorm of black heels drums against the pavement.
I sit on concrete fountain steps, in the shadow of a marbled dome,
Asking no questions, and receiving no answers.
Smoke streams from my mouth, and I cannot help but imagine
That if I was driven by the same decisive energy and unity of purpose
As this swarm of humanity, I could watch the city endlessly turn on itself
From high windows set into a swanky office block,
And be the one to wind it up again, were it to lose momentum.
My desk would be of bronzed oak, with a small nameplate set into the shining surface,
Although it would be a pain having to clear clumps of white powder
From the raised gold lettering- I would just have to get my assistant to do it.
Crowds of uniformed schoolboys flood into courtyards, gardens and paved squares,
Losing themselves in underground tunnels, swallowed whole by roaring troglodyte trains
And the hulking red buses which prowl these streets.
I myself am being fattened and will soon be led to the slaughter,
To be feasted on, and left hollow,
Driven and ambitious to the point of mindlessness.


(Written by a Friend)

Destruction

The destruction of others was never in the plans

To hurt such delicate people

To cause so much shed tear

Unknown to me be the power lying in my hands.

A Sweet Bird: About

Writing A Sweet Bird, I wanted to utilise traditional symbols of purity and craftiness but create an allusion in the sense that the characters of choice represent for much more than simple animals. I meant for the sweet bird to represent the feminine form; a delicate, innocent, pure human being, who is so sweet that this perhaps may be her downfall, as she is left vulnerable to the diseased characters of others. The fox represents a masculine form, a character that a fox has forever been a symbol of; I wanted this character to illustrate that a drive to succeed in nature is unreachable without destroying the life of others, and this is existent between human beings, and can be transferred across to illustrate the dangers of love.

A Sweet Bird

A sweet bird flying in the wind

So peaceful in flight

So pleasant to sight

A sweet bird

A cunning fox running through the undergrowth

So relaxed yet so determined

Single thoughts running through the mind

A cunning fox

Where the sweet bird lands it does not yet know

Seeking safety yet too trusting in nature

Perhaps too sweet a creature

Perhaps too pure a heart

For she lands next to a thorn bush

Ignorant of the foxes plans

Naïve of the sorrow of others

And suffers at the foxes hands

A sweet bird no more. 

First post!

Hey guys,

I created this blog so that I can publish my material, mostly poetry.

I'm afraid for the moment I will be posting anonymous, however I'm hoping that doesn't affect peoples' ability to appreciate what I'm posting!

If you enjoy any of my material, please share!

Cheers