Nap

Tap. Wake. Move.
Care? No. Snooze.

Appreciation

A round of applause is the most vicious of circles.

Swift

Onwards and outwards I fly, but my leash holds me from freedom.
Return to copse, fleeting excitability.
Fingers chug along, having lost poetic automation.

Redraw

The serious and young, have never heard about what to do,
"Truth," he said.
Then, two days decay.
Tuesday; simple, apology or not,
If you can get more games, then play them.
With a smile now and then.
We laugh at me, a candidate.

No pressure.

The smile returns, and all is well.

But in an instant, bemuddlement.

Misheard, misread, misunderstood.

I sleep with ruled eyebrows.

Return, joyous conclusion, bring with you warmth.

For the tenderness of yesterday, needs not be a memory.

We live, through life.

Acceptance

We cry, but it could not've gone any better.
Two magnets, finally attracted.
But such sweetness only makes decisions harder.
The hierarchy of being ever changing.
Such opportunity will lead to regret.
Come join me, in the cave of ponder.

The calm

Sweet apologies, dear reader.
The harmonies of change wake me.
For the moment, I must live.
The world is only as pleasing as one allows it to be.

Table

He walks into a meeting, sweat gushing from every pore.
Their eyes smirk at his slimy face.
He sits; the pressure disperses.
Nerves shred the certainty of the man.
Malevolence rotates.
An embibing of thick air.
The plan is spewed from a leader, and the tension shatters.
Evil unites.

Daydream

Behind decorative eyes, lies a melting pot of experience.
Ideas birth new horizons.
For a moment, fantasy is reality.
Cognition erupts, tearing down sweet vacation.
Click, then grey.
Buy yourself a cup of warm despair and get back on the treadmill.
Don't ask for a receipt, it's too late.

A heated debate

Shouting  "Yes" at the cosmos does not make one feel alive.
It wounds humanity.
We are sleepwalking into competition.

A plumped tongue
The silent mouthing of demands.

Predictably unpredictable

A win on a whim,
an impossible failiure.
Life, oh how you keep me guessing.

Higher

Expectations, while an evil that leads to masses of disappointment, are useful on the rare occasions that suppositions have been exceeded.
Things went better than expected, but I lack satisfaction.

A dilema

If happiness comes from no-where, no asset gain or such economic utility, is it happiness at all?
Is it a mirage that we summon to cover up our material failings?
Or is happiness without physicality true happiness?
Is economic utility a lesser plain of enjoyment?


I must answer this, to decide my life. To decide whether I regret, or whether I wither.
Love or wealth, both are a gamble.
I must pursue happiness, but I do not know what such a feeling is.

My head is clouded with oddities.
People are not proud of a love in another, but of wealth, praise is thrown round and jealousy contuses.
Does that jealous diminish the purity of such benefit?

Once I decide, I cannot change. I am tied to my confusion.

Crash

The box croaks forwards.

In it sits the careless one.

Left, right, left, she glances.

She looks, but she doesn't see.

Her engine churns, oblivious to the crescendo it is beginning.

The eye of time blinks, and carnage is apparent.

A biker, lies. His bike, strewn across the floor.

For a moment, there is silence. Perhaps it isn't silence, but no one hears a sound.

What happened?

"We didn't see him and he didn't see us" She declares.

With it goes her guilt.

Sirens sing, beckoning the weak soul to a waiting.

The hospital is limbo.

Everything he knew, gone in a second.

Moral carelessness wraithes the reich.

I must question how such behaviour can be exhibited,

how can we let fools have killing machines?

Cars in the wrong hands kill.

Mind you, hands in the wrong hands kill.

It is apparent that I must just sweep this injustice under the carpet.

I am simply a bystander to accidents, but it's vehemence haunts me.

How can one care more about the transport of life more than of life itself?

Be late for something, but be human.

Downloadable hope

Our thumbs and fingers have become our minds,
but we do not think, we graze on the plains of misinformation.
Locusts to all that has come before.
May we return to a way of physical civilisation.
Perhaps I'll be happy when I can download cups of tea.

Caged

Even when a chore goes away, a feeling of bluefunk arives.
Stockholm syndrome in a minor sense.
Humans crave pattern, routine.
An subterfuge to the lack of buzz and excitement.
Join the queue, and be glad.

Not just a quiz show

Too many questions chasing too few answers.

Soft

A comicbook quilt,
A comical guilt,
Even if I am ill,
I am young.
With youth comes excitement.

Intent

The fickle nature of humanity is one that confuses me.
I view desires as a complex, ever changing hierarchy of wants and possibilities.
I must first make myself a possibility for there to be want.
The majority of people do not view their desires in such a way, so I must avoid simply handing out a curriculum vitae to the subconscious of the masses.
Subtlety is a hard art to master.

A change in ethos

Thought is a necessity, sleep is a luxury.
The pain in my head tells me otherwise.
"The unexamined life is not worth living"
Sorry, Socrates, but I must become healthy to live, to even contemplate thought.