{"id":1207,"date":"2025-12-11T14:32:13","date_gmt":"2025-12-11T14:32:13","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/spikehowarth.com\/?page_id=1207"},"modified":"2026-01-06T16:37:36","modified_gmt":"2026-01-06T16:37:36","slug":"elementor-page-1207","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/spikehowarth.com\/?page_id=1207","title":{"rendered":"Poems"},"content":{"rendered":"\t\t
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Poems<\/h1>\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t
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\u00a0A selection of Spike’s verse work. Separate from the street, written on topics he chooses, at his own pace, in his room, on his bed, on the train, the tube, by the sea, in parks, cafes, hostels, parties, raves, and anywhere there might be time to grab his notebook, pen, laptop, or typewriter.<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t

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Gold Tomorrow<\/h2>\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t
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My second poetry collection should be finished around early 2026. Seeing the world burning as it looks about, it embodies the prevalent pessimism in my generation. But if we sit and sulk without a better world to dream of, the yet to come will materialise just as expected. That is, rather shite. Navigating the difficulty of shaping the future as we wish post-WWII corrosion, yet imagining what a Gold Tomorrow <\/em>might actually look like, how far off we are from it, and how we might get there, the collection aims to aptly dissect the recent past, present, and possible future.<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t

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Singles<\/h2>\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t
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The following are unconnected poems on a range of subjects from my extensive archive of work.<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t

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Somewhere Somewhen <\/div><\/span>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t<\/path><\/svg><\/span>\n\t\t\t<\/path><\/svg><\/span>\n\t\t<\/span>\n\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/summary>\n\t\t\t\t
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What a joy it is to live for you,<\/p>

My love, my love,<\/p>

What a joy it is.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

By bloom you sit and petal tend,<\/p>

How those moments misaligned had stung.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Somewhere somewhen we are as one,<\/p>

my love, somewhere somewhen.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Where fares and sand go hand in hand,<\/p>

Where limbs on limbs do bend,<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

I\u2019ll see you then, another month,<\/p>

My love,<\/p>

My love, I\u2019ll see you then.<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/details>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t

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Saturday Spillover <\/div><\/span>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t<\/path><\/svg><\/span>\n\t\t\t<\/path><\/svg><\/span>\n\t\t<\/span>\n\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/summary>\n\t\t\t\t
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We\u2019d come to comatose that Sunday,<\/p>

Blessed in hardwood revelation,<\/p>

We\u2019ll succumb to what was once awaited,<\/p>

As we witness the prodigal sun play.<\/p>

His queen mother imprinted on the sofa,<\/p>

Arose from the leather,<\/p>

Swayed as she hummed.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Their decaying blinds, slowly yellow<\/p>

Kept us slightly blind from the outside<\/p>

Throat dry, daylight hard to swallow,<\/p>

We all pretended it was night still,<\/p>

Say we let the summer spillover,<\/p>

Until we reconvene in October,<\/p>

When we\u2019ve all found the right lover<\/p>

And the gleaming sun, his patient mother,<\/p>

Wipe their slate clean.<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/details>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t

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Not Far Off <\/div><\/span>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t<\/path><\/svg><\/span>\n\t\t\t<\/path><\/svg><\/span>\n\t\t<\/span>\n\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/summary>\n\t\t\t\t
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Not right <\/i>right now<\/p>

Nor soon to be<\/p>

Hardly far off<\/p>

And If we plot<\/p>

Real patiently<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

There are blankets and picnics<\/p>

In meadows in glades<\/p>

With teeny weeny little baby cups<\/p>

We can play pretend tea<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Mind your sundress isn\u2019t<\/p>

Pinched by seedy brambles<\/p>

In those thick rows of messy bush<\/p>

Listen to the tall grass mumble<\/p>

Forget your headphones<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Meet us past the dolly hill<\/p>

Where all our dogs<\/p>

Will come for their last walk<\/p>

They\u2019ll lap the old well<\/p>

And creek the cracking gate<\/p>

Our charming gate<\/p>

It doesn\u2019t waver<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Please save your freckle days<\/p>

To Pan we\u2019ll pray it ain\u2019t far off<\/p>

Where midday heckles necks<\/p>

Present will be spent<\/p>

Never savoured<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/details>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t

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Tatters <\/div><\/span>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t<\/path><\/svg><\/span>\n\t\t\t<\/path><\/svg><\/span>\n\t\t<\/span>\n\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/summary>\n\t\t\t\t
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Its severed seams seemed keen to give way for air,<\/p>

allowing a sneaky hand.<\/p>

For lack of care its wear was well and truly branded.<\/p>

Around the neckline, dentures had their anxious snack, and,<\/p>

over time, this garment had found itself a fraying worry.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Always game for a new wearer,<\/p>

its messes were bound to be compounded.<\/p>

Willing itself lost in a lonely nightstand,<\/p>

it was heaped among a flurry of hot mess.<\/p>

Tossed to ground from a till now neglectful owner.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Stored in the abandoned second-, third-,<\/p>

fourth-hand clothing ether.<\/p>

Floating past outer orbit outfits<\/p>

it gawks at those left unworn.<\/p>

Forced to trade substance for existence,<\/p>

sacrificing another stitch to be dawned again.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

From nothing, our ratty tee spawned again.<\/p>

Glowing near the next mannequin:<\/p>

Who faced the other direction, smashed and damaged.<\/p>

Through pure accident, her misstep grew,<\/p>

she stumbled across the sheer top,<\/p>

her complexion naked too.<\/p>

She froze, covered only in an airy dress.<\/p>

The shirt didn\u2019t offer much more warmth, yet,<\/p>

she wagered on its scarcity, nevertheless.<\/p>

Staking to wear it with fairness –<\/p>

her yearn for the tatter.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

From its lack of graphic she felt pride.<\/p>

That mattered in today\u2019s trends.<\/p>

It\u2019s so anti-consumerist, she reckoned.<\/p>

There was much nobility in evident frailty.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Something she saw in the way the threads sank free<\/p>

from constricting shapes, stranded in negligence.<\/p>

Offering most simple access to her scratch-needing back, frankly.<\/p>

Naturally, she wore it to all her most glistening adventures.<\/p>

It decomposed and she wove it back together<\/p>

To the condition she first teetered to the tee,<\/p>

lying there, all skanky.<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/details>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t

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Remembrance <\/div><\/span>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t<\/path><\/svg><\/span>\n\t\t\t<\/path><\/svg><\/span>\n\t\t<\/span>\n\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/summary>\n\t\t\t\t
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Though I\u2019ve tried not to remember<\/p>

There you are again,<\/p>

Scribed into my first thoughts,<\/p>

Truthfully, never could I<\/p>

Wind you out.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Your tongue and how it wandered,<\/p>

Staring then slowly all around,<\/p>

I\u2019d look where you had spied<\/p>

Brutally, in our tether blemished,<\/p>

I can only see it now.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Despite my effort scattered,<\/p>

No matter how hard I had tried,<\/p>

Whereupon our shore you lied,<\/p>

Indented in my present form,<\/p>

As June offends a cloud,<\/p>

Sun-trodden, there,<\/p>

Nought we could but synchronise.<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/details>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t

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Deceiving myself <\/div><\/span>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t<\/path><\/svg><\/span>\n\t\t\t<\/path><\/svg><\/span>\n\t\t<\/span>\n\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/summary>\n\t\t\t\t
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God has arrived, I met them on the train, 5:15<\/p>

I wasn\u2019t up for chatting, there, ordered me<\/p>

if I couldn\u2019t speak I mustn\u2019t<\/p>

Between ducks and rabbits, the boundary in between,<\/p>

Where Monroe\u2019s bluffing Einstein<\/p>

Denzel merged with Malcolm,<\/p>

Somewhere by the limit,<\/p>

The deity told me, at each station,<\/p>

Gates held an exhibited line,<\/p>

Don\u2019t push through without your<\/p>

Free to utter ticket.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

I replied, in my usual distaste for authority,<\/p>

You\u2019ll come to change your mind.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Oh, they went head-shaking breakdown muttering,<\/p>

Contradictions in rules, truth values, identities,<\/p>

Something about Tarski,<\/p>

Though I\u2019d hardly heard of him,<\/p>

Something similar to how, my God,<\/p>

They didn\u2019t talk,<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Instead they tensed their chin.<\/p>

Purchased their lippy railcard<\/p>

Discounted chats were thinnest.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Started squawking of their axioms retracted,<\/p>

Tautological conjectures,<\/p>

Orders unfollowed.<\/p>

Well, didn\u2019t you form this consciousness,<\/p>

Creator of this carriage? I asked,<\/p>

They slipped off rather fast<\/p>

When came along the train inspector<\/p>

Swallowed whole their guilty gulp,<\/p>

Left the track with untold sulk,<\/p>

Hoping to persue a voiceless sector.<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/details>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t

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Cheer Up Would Ya? <\/div><\/span>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t<\/path><\/svg><\/span>\n\t\t\t<\/path><\/svg><\/span>\n\t\t<\/span>\n\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/summary>\n\t\t\t\t
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Parabolas of wrinkles swirled,<\/p>

Chasm\u2019d brims beset his chins.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Inverses pertinacious, practiced<\/p>

Basecamp under lip neither basked in<\/p>

Nor heard in rumours those July whims.<\/p>

Sunk a swelling victim out his larynx<\/p>

from the molar eclipse.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

His dog was a grumpy bugger,<\/p>

His son a nihilistic little shit.<\/p>

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Unity Seekers <\/div><\/span>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t<\/path><\/svg><\/span>\n\t\t\t<\/path><\/svg><\/span>\n\t\t<\/span>\n\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/summary>\n\t\t\t\t
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Paris\u2019ll burn if they don\u2019t behave<\/p>

What happens when it\u2019s London\u2019s turn?<\/p>

Sip on ya yacht<\/p>

Stay on ya terf<\/p>

Thankfully<\/p>

When real change comes<\/p>

You\u2019ll be out of here first<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

We won\u2019t save space on this earth<\/p>

For those who prey on the weakest<\/p>

We are so loudly distracted<\/p>

Act all defeated<\/p>

We should know by now<\/p>

When liberty\u2019s lost<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

These are the facts and the features:<\/p>

The cost is the world around<\/p>

Divide and relax, watch it deplete<\/p>

If we aren\u2019t active unity seekers<\/p>

I pray you see we are weakest<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Weakness may not<\/p>

Be a thing you think you\u2019ve got<\/p>

But a little crack<\/p>

Is soon a crevasse<\/p>

When we let rot go ignored<\/p>

Or show them our backs<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Like a damp mould<\/p>

They\u2019ll grow us breathless<\/p>

They\u2019ll start with the defenceless<\/p>

Then it\u2019s at your doorstep<\/p>

They\u2019ve come for a small percent<\/p>

Those most oppressed<\/p>

Denying their existence<\/p>

Suddenly it\u2019s anyone who represents<\/p>

Some other difference<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Where is our voice?<\/p>

Where is our tantrum?<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

We are a grey people<\/p>

But if it\u2019s rage they want<\/p>

It\u2019s colour they\u2019ll have<\/p>

March to your anthems<\/p>

A call to arms should force you<\/p>

Snarling, standing together<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Demanding with focus<\/p>

Screaming for better<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/details>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t

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Glancing Whim <\/div><\/span>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t<\/path><\/svg><\/span>\n\t\t\t<\/path><\/svg><\/span>\n\t\t<\/span>\n\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/summary>\n\t\t\t\t
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If love could be bought,<\/p>

I could never charge you for it.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Take it all for free<\/p>

become a runaway thief.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

At the whim of your glance,<\/p>

any cost is lost on me..<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/details>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t

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Tidbit Bus <\/div><\/span>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t<\/path><\/svg><\/span>\n\t\t\t<\/path><\/svg><\/span>\n\t\t<\/span>\n\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/summary>\n\t\t\t\t
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Don\u2019t we just adore an either\/or?<\/p>

He or she, here or there, that or this,<\/p>

Black and white is clear as day and night,<\/p>

What about grey, what about it<\/i>?<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

What about those dawns and dusks?<\/p>

Our not quites and almosts<\/p>

Alrights and borderline jokes<\/p>

All that love for absolute musts.<\/p>

They said to the wild child,<\/p>

No ifs, ands, or buts,<\/p>

But what if the ands <\/i>are saving us<\/p>

from too much or just enough.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

It\u2019s fine to seek perhaps and maybe,<\/p>

So soon how we happen on extremes,<\/p>

The middle way between us,<\/p>

Golden means and halfway ruts.<\/p>

Iffy noontime, we mix our feelings<\/p>

For Wednesday on the tidbit bus.<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/details>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t

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Long form<\/h2>\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t
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‘Epic’ is a slightly contentious term in poetry, so I’m going to avoid it. What actually constitutes some supernatural involvement or historically significant character? I’m not really sure. Loosely put, the following are some longer poems that deal with a more detailed chain of events over larger time periods:<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t

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Saeculum Come Save Us <\/div><\/span>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t<\/path><\/svg><\/span>\n\t\t\t<\/path><\/svg><\/span>\n\t\t<\/span>\n\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/summary>\n\t\t\t\t
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Saeculum come save us. Our way paved from predecessors pains us. We cannot find the turning and the fourth quarter comes all too belated. Burning will remain despite flameless, we say it swaying in sync with peers and off-track with ageless. Their iciness despite any flicker of natural cold; they despise without a spine to frame them. When transcendental optimists birthed their preachers, that womb sacrifice was a waypoint of laid aims. Maybe half a decade left for you to teach us of the swooning sun that lurks past these spiral-stained pages. Merits unfounded, we\u2019d be wise to reclaim and paint the future changed.<\/p>

Hid amidst the divots, parts of their hearts slickly ripped.<\/p>

As the world returned, pivoted again, a people raised of<\/p>

Pragmatism and action.<\/p>

Or at least they moved for motion,<\/p>

In fodder soups, thickly dipped any remaining bread.<\/p>

Burned their names\u2014any notions of what they could create,<\/p>

Chucked to a gorge of lost faces<\/p>

with other words, pointlessly said.<\/p>

Out of the darkest tunnels bursting<\/p>

Our much awaited and self-proclaimed greatest.<\/p>

We will come to know we are<\/p>

Just shapes of waves that grow around us.<\/p>

Does a spiral angle down or does<\/p>

It find itself that way?<\/p>

In swathes of clearing currents,<\/p>

Mothers, those who sewed the uplift,<\/p>

Mustered up the whisperers.<\/p>

They played in silence when skipping light flew by them,<\/p>

Spouting sonic booms, harmonies of might.<\/p>

If they had spoken up, would their successors<\/p>

Believe of themselves that much?<\/p>

Voiceless from interrupting noises.<\/p>

Caned my fathers for their decibel misbehaviours.<\/p>

The music never waited,<\/p>

It rang despite its tastelessness,<\/p>

Toying with those who couldn\u2019t<\/p>

Come to deign themselves a label.<\/p>

In the gut wrench of<\/p>

Stomach needs unmet and<\/p>

Parents hung with the plaster cracks,<\/p>

They were decidedly nameless.<\/p>

On the wall, where their<\/p>

Masters danced with answers yet undecided.<\/p>

Cast in upper deck fates,<\/p>

They could only watch their<\/p>

Daughters prancing under ever<\/p>

Lasting setting sun,<\/p>

Oh we know it hurt.<\/p>

Onlooking, with innards stripped,<\/p>

Sickly fixed to chairs, eyelids split to fixate:<\/p>

A rebirth.<\/p>

And these happy earners that<\/p>

Blossomed from woollen will.<\/p>

The blood in Papa\u2019s bosom;<\/p>

He smoked as the opposites approached,<\/p>

– On the way home –<\/p>

When he read the paper,<\/p>

Ashed aside page turning.<\/p>

Perhaps the tar scarred \u2018em up enough,<\/p>

That when the bullet came,<\/p>

It wasn\u2019t too tough for the thickest skins.<\/p>

In his soul, and fingertips,<\/p>

Any scrap of innocence churning.<\/p>

He glanced up.<\/p>

Knew for sure they ain\u2019t deserve it.<\/p>

Knew for certain<\/p>

They were worth it, nonetheless.<\/p>

He downward gazed for days<\/p>

Until his sight weren\u2019t quite aright,<\/p>

Smiled at his family around him.<\/p>

All reverberating men lost<\/p>

To planet mess hoo-has<\/p>

Would not resonate with<\/p>

The proceeding style compounding.<\/p>

A shake,<\/p>

Loved ones grimaced because<\/p>

They didn\u2019t know the dirt to fly and<\/p>

Shirt parts to tatter apart from<\/p>

Bodily casting.<\/p>

That\u2019s some effing cracking<\/p>

Human flinging.<\/p>

That was when flashing brigades of<\/p>

Balderdash backed by buffoonery boasted fantasies of<\/p>

Pasts that never existed.<\/p>

Whether they fixed others, or inflicted<\/p>

Their ideals in unorganised territories,<\/p>

Unobjective correctness was<\/p>

Slowly chosen over self-governance \u2013<\/p>

What heresy?<\/p>

Those deposit \u2018it\u2019 boys,<\/p>

With their wonga singing of apex echelons,<\/p>

Counted to 10 for bountiful manhunt in<\/p>

Greece, Egypt, Saudi Arabia.<\/p>

Preying on a victim to silk-lace,<\/p>

A fibre to spread, lake\u2019s to sap sweet.<\/p>

Rarely as animalistic in Congo,<\/p>

Swimming where the mountain\u2019s spilled,<\/p>

Headlines read:<\/p>

Desire for Superpowers,<\/p>

We Need a Losing Saviour.<\/p>

Opals were marbles,<\/p>

Stuffing pockets and faces filled<\/p>

Till brimming, that\u2019s better<\/i> (much more human).<\/p>

A mountain razed in Aberfan that mangled,<\/p>

Reminiscent of back when mortars scattered sand<\/p>

And houses keeled.<\/p>

After, flee became Cornwall June.<\/p>

Where terraces kissed, they now<\/p>

Spied one another \u2013 My parents\u2019 parents<\/p>

Washed in an inch deep.<\/p>

Cooked their own meals.<\/p>

And their grandparents\u2019 grandparents<\/p>

Were remembered with elegant etches of feather.<\/p>

A doctored nobility concealed \u2013 its pinions<\/p>

Propped above proper axiom wind,<\/p>

Models that weren\u2019t actually ever endeavoured or supplied.<\/p>

Testing for their Grammar,<\/p>

Before stock was taken public,<\/p>

And the clever pockets skimp,<\/p>

Fingering golden tickets,<\/p>

Until the folds became so crimped.\u00a0<\/p>

Clicked the keys and met<\/p>

At the cemetery gates a decade after<\/p>

The day the music died.<\/p>

For a high ridden is a sucking depth for some.<\/p>

Under tonnes of wet in \u201877<\/p>

When waves of women and students coalesced, swelled,<\/p>

Broke institutions in seconds,<\/p>

That was the surfer\u2019s heaven.<\/p>

Dylan\u2019s man weren\u2019t in the mirror.<\/p>

Instead, He was peddling coal,<\/p>

The packhorses\u2019 jagger,<\/p>

A tenner for rent,<\/p>

20p for a pint,<\/p>

But the latter<\/p>

took the Mick outta Bianca.<\/p>

Grantham\u2019s Iago sent a February shiver<\/p>

Down country\u2019s nape, she haggled for price,<\/p>

Traded with worth, said you should thank her.<\/p>

In Somerville she plotted to own an Earth that,<\/p>

By my Grandmother\u2019s death, was hers.<\/p>

That\u2019s hardly Davidsonian.<\/p>

My dear Ben,<\/p>

Who spoke of the awoken<\/p>

Joke of a social net,<\/p>

While the smiths and their<\/p>

Nephews bet on the wounded \u2013<\/p>

Those with no digits at limb ceases.<\/p>

Cassio was the fucking unions.<\/p>

You blithering idiot.<\/p>

Can you not see the ghastly and raspy-touched elite<\/p>

Moving in utter unison<\/p>

To see our disorder and fragmentation complete.<\/p>

They told you of a lot,<\/p>

And only showed you stagflation.<\/p>

Oh, the order, we saw alright,<\/p>

We were the audience,<\/p>

Watching the latest reincarnation<\/p>

Of Shakespeare\u2019s most misremembered.<\/p>

Major John,<\/p>

I salute your attempts to maintain<\/p>

That level of meddling.<\/p>

I also ask you turn to your senior:<\/p>

General austerity,<\/p>

To witness a proper sentencing.<\/p>

Every season of Friends,<\/p>

Back-to-back without a break.<\/p>

Repeated on a loop, unending.<\/p>

We spied the knife, its cut and twist,<\/p>

Do not try to defend her.<\/p>

Surely, if we know it\u2019s happening,<\/p>

We can fight it?<\/p>

So is thought.<\/p>

Or at least implored to be taught.<\/p>

The difference is pedantic, my reverend.<\/p>

Euthyphro caught you at the altar,<\/p>

With his eye on ball, others probably missed,<\/p>

You shoulda known the inevitable result.<\/p>

And as the changing waves faltered,<\/p>

Set gliders became pool bladers,<\/p>

Searching for substantive flat-ground,<\/p>

Birthed the street skaters:<\/p>

Nascent, wu-tang adjacent,<\/p>

Aiming their grabs at the<\/p>

Degradation of cities and<\/p>

Power sliding over pebbles and grates.<\/p>

When our icons incentivised unravel,<\/p>

Spoke against fate, died on that hill,<\/p>

And owners staked their wills too,<\/p>

With messages that\u2019ll thrill you:<\/p>

You\u2019re nobody till somebody kills you.<\/p>

At free parties buying LSD from traveller children,<\/p>

Taking an E regardless, forty k or so mates,<\/p>

Swerving the gavel,<\/p>

Raving, maddened by their mixing masters<\/p>

(as mulligan condoned)<\/p>

Whilst Blair feigned his care and dug<\/p>

Desert coffins –\u00a0 <\/span>filled in after – sands of bone<\/p>

The punks say they\u2019re the heartless ones?<\/p>

Some tributaries never ended up in the mainstream,<\/p>

Spot the amalgamated lot right there,<\/p>

At the peak of outselling,<\/p>

The top of bursts, where<\/p>

Subtle pops meet their tone-deaf maker.<\/p>

By the thousands, those with<\/p>

Stamina came clean to offspring.<\/p>

But those out of breath,<\/p>

Dirtied their Thames, Avon, Severn.<\/p>

Grab Sabrina out the river,<\/p>

Or the sea she needs a rest,<\/p>

Some warmth and tea,<\/p>

She\u2019s left Linus for the Seine.<\/p>

And Amy came and went.<\/p>

From her, Lilly rose, and,<\/p>

Thank Bob she made it out,<\/p>

They\u2019re only two years apart,<\/p>

But the cellar seemed older,<\/p>

There were only tinnies in there,<\/p>

At festivals, \u00a33 a pop, supposedly<\/p>

Free at home.<\/p>

Remember back in those good ol times<\/p>

When artists performed for a dime piece<\/p>

And cult or social leaders were<\/p>

Sexually revolting.<\/p>

Oh just stop the farcical nostalgia,<\/p>

Look ahead, there\u2019s a corner next<\/p>

Approaching and we\u2019ve barely<\/p>

Enough doping to drift.<\/p>

We\u2019ll be utterly sober as October leaves<\/p>

Us with the breath of fire.<\/p>

It shimmers and conspires in<\/p>

Forests, where the fliers contest of<\/p>

Heating air and dwellers are spared an elongated death.<\/p>

In the mirror, I\u2019ll swim,<\/p>

Pass me a dainty floaty and if I see<\/p>

Another part of self, a twisted joker,<\/p>

I\u2019ll dap him up for keeping it weightless.<\/p>

Take us to that rising tide,<\/p>

We\u2019ll watch a film on cruise boat rides,<\/p>

About white people in a Thailand tsunami.<\/p>

That\u2019s Thomas, hardly.<\/p>

If the trees were great by now there\u2019s<\/p>

No doubt I\u2019d know about it.<\/p>

My mate could FaceTime me.<\/p>

I wouldn\u2019t dream of blurry lime rows<\/p>

When he shows them, so uncloudy.<\/p>

I was 5 when skies turned worser,<\/p>

6 or 7 when the 2010s brought their populism.<\/p>

It stunk of degradation.<\/p>

I could sense it in the air,<\/p>

Even back then.<\/p>

I could see how granny frowned at<\/p>

Eye-wool and powerful credence.<\/p>

Now I see too much of you, smiling along.<\/p>

How wrong to keep that grin in presence of<\/p>

Those never winning.<\/p>

Will-ever-thinning, say it louder<\/p>

For the people at the back.<\/p>

Home from school, computer on,<\/p>

I\u2019ll go dance on the LCD, ignoring<\/p>

Crowds of dusty bodies,<\/p>

That\u2019s just rubbish,<\/p>

Chuck it on the piling stack.<\/p>

Libya, Syria, Yemen, I must\u2019ve been 14 the last I heard\u2019a\u2019that.<\/p>

I\u2019ll be 25, like my mother when she had my eldest brother,<\/p>

Naked in bed, scratching my inner thigh<\/p>

And lying to people on the interwebs.<\/p>

Being meaner the more their profile pic annoys me.<\/p>

I\u2019ll drink and eat some crap just to<\/p>

Spite Eddie and Oliver,<\/p>

Use one hand to type,<\/p>

Put my shoes in a dishwasher,<\/p>

Become my own cobbler.<\/p>

Trading real daisies for ethereal blocks.<\/p>

Some might say, eff it,<\/p>

Upload me to the cloud,<\/p>

I\u2019ll float up there, allowing myself what Nozick<\/p>

Warned against. All jelly like, elastic.<\/p>

I won\u2019t fund bother to what\u2019s authentic.<\/p>

Rarely tearing up, I can simmer there,<\/p>

That oxy looks eerily similar to a tangfastic.<\/p>

I\u2019ll scran it, akin to fructose eating liver.<\/p>

I\u2019d rather fade to nothing than become<\/p>

That type of being.<\/p>

I\u2019d prefer to talk a lot, say absolutely nothing,<\/p>

Than be a being without utterance.<\/p>

Before we, us yungens, become that something which<\/p>

Is better set on highest steps and con<\/p>

descending.<\/p>

10 years from today,<\/p>

Within some deep south country scape,<\/p>

Beyond the gates that plastered wanderers away,<\/p>

There\u2019s a lusty wizard flailing his arms,<\/p>

His controlling curse is out of scope,<\/p>

In disarray, he can\u2019t conceive,<\/p>

Those less magical aren\u2019t falling for the thaumatrope.<\/p>

On one side he placed a man, frolicking free,<\/p>

Turn it over, there\u2019s prison bars made from gen-z accountability.<\/p>

He\u2019s spinning the illusion,<\/p>

You fall for it, believe it\u2019s us.<\/p>

You reckon that we fuss enough<\/p>

About what you can and cannot say,<\/p>

To truly lock you away.<\/p>

Whilst his coin has syphoned off your rights,<\/p>

You point to the sect of society facing most heightened abuse,<\/p>

And think they mighta tightened this newfound noose.<\/p>

You sternly suggest the people targeted more common<\/p>

Than not,<\/p>

Are the ones that plot to cause the rot around you.<\/p>

But I know you. I\u2019ve seen you.<\/p>

I\u2019ve found you, often missing the shitting point,<\/p>

This is not belittling; this is sticking it straight.<\/p>

Why anoint despair and gloom as our<\/p>

Favourite pair of gods.<\/p>

Their awe so enclosing, we stare at floor to<\/p>

Forget the stakes.<\/p>

If we do not hope, what is it that we wait for?<\/p>

We can price our outrage and attention.<\/p>

Or,<\/p>

We can trade with love and affection.<\/p>

I speak to us, who the weight is on.<\/p>

We\u2019ll bear it through the floods,<\/p>

Fly, opposing our direction to the wind.<\/p>

We\u2019ll trudge through the mud,<\/p>

Living off the sight of dryer earth beneath.<\/p>

We\u2019ll preach to our children:<\/p>

turnings that predate our records,<\/p>

Slating ancestors for their furnacing.<\/p>

Check-in, board the plane with hardship lugged<\/p>

Into the hold, begging they ain\u2019t sold too much.<\/p>

There\u2019ll be so little mercy and<\/p>

Plenty spineless, hurting,<\/p>

We can rent cushions from the cusp.<\/p>

Pay for them with bankrupt flirting.<\/p>

By the 2030s, we can but pray,<\/p>

That our reinvention was enough.<\/p>

Saeculum, please.<\/p>

At the hardest gradient the hilltop is teasing, and I reckon we need to dream again. Speak the spark into existence. Grab a stranger\u2019s laugh, giggle with them, and call them a friend. Tension between strings that prop up sunken men and the puppeteer meant to keep them neck-tight, is only belittling if we let it be. We ought to chat less on things so greedily drunken. When we\u2019re back at best we\u2019ll see the drop and confess our hopeless sin. I\u2019ll meet you there; sadly aware of what\u2019s to come, I can but put a hat on in the sun. Build myself a shadow from silhouettes of wishful young. They play up there, those who cannot breathe their teenage years. They had no chance at breaking innocence before we forced them into decline. Give us rebirth, if it comes from principles thirsted first, middle lines, or ends of earth like spheres arctic, tell us, I beg, that the tears will not run depressed yet highly cathartic.<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/details>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t

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Aside some flashy gizmos<\/p>

and bits,<\/p>

were bobs from<\/p>

far ahead of you and I.<\/p>

His sex said he,<\/p>

but at this<\/p>

place in time,<\/p>

we wouldn\u2019t<\/p>

tend to categorise.<\/p>

Okay,<\/p>

but for sake, he, who wore<\/p>

outdated bombers<\/p>

(with hologram plates)<\/p>

called any passerby<\/p>

to enjoy the<\/p>

offer of his gaze.<\/p>

Next to<\/p>

these bitty bobs and dark<\/p>

matter woven sports tops,<\/p>

was a bed which floated.<\/p>

From repelling magnetism,<\/p>

he slept upon, at its core,<\/p>

nothing more than a field<\/p>

of distaste.<\/p>

I guess it\u2019s<\/p>

sort of like their type of<\/p>

water-bed. Yet, you could<\/p>

actually play music from<\/p>

liquorice, and some,<\/p>

who felt the highest type<\/p>

of feminine inclination,<\/p>

were genuine cats.<\/p>

The shape of things formed<\/p>

from previous gimmicks<\/p>

or phrases,<\/p>

this society<\/p>

played with political<\/p>

systems like they were<\/p>

teen angst phases. I<\/p>

saw this space hustler<\/p>

down a neon-lit alley.<\/p>

My original idea suggested<\/p>

he was wasting and tasteless.<\/p>

How much more wrong<\/p>

could I persist.<\/p>

After all,<\/p>

His happiness relied solely<\/p>

on selling these incredibly<\/p>

complex gifts.<\/p>

He spoke to me through my<\/p>

thoughts,<\/p>

not because he was some<\/p>

type of philosophical savant,<\/p>

rather he had the type 4<\/p>

neurotransmitting watch.<\/p>

He would point the clock<\/p>

depending on his desire to<\/p>

infiltrate. I heard from the<\/p>

higher classes that to walk<\/p>

these luminescent scapes<\/p>

you need the type 5,<\/p>

newly trademarked EarMate.<\/p>

Then you could<\/p>

forget the hustler\u2019s frequency<\/p>

and enjoy the world.<\/p>

Suspended by tension,<\/p>

still, there was a feeling<\/p>

of regression amongst<\/p>

this floating city. This pill<\/p>

might make me swim like<\/p>

Phelps and breath below<\/p>

surface,<\/p>

but the thrill of nearly<\/p>

suffocating and just about<\/p>

making it back atop the<\/p>

water break was evidently<\/p>

invigorating and obviously<\/p>

not worthless.<\/p>

Nonetheless, I braved the new<\/p>

and<\/p>

put on a thick and weightless<\/p>

jacket.<\/p>

Though my ground-making<\/p>

shoes<\/p>

seemed to malfunction,<\/p>

I could firm the wear of this<\/p>

curious world<\/p>

by a simple steel-sole button.<\/p>

My skin was<\/p>

reformed and robust,<\/p>

this new alloy was claimed to<\/p>

be<\/p>

rust avoiding. No need<\/p>

for quicker travel or a light-<\/p>

speed<\/p>

bus, since my feet now worked<\/p>

in the these street placed<\/p>

train-like tracks. So I could zip,<\/p>

or when caught in need of<\/p>

an instant dip, I could conceive<\/p>

of home and the decentralised<\/p>

bank would take the exact<\/p>

amount<\/p>

I might owe for this movement.<\/p>

But even with the aid of this<\/p>

meta-tech I was prey in a<\/p>

shape-shifting city.<\/p>

Truly clueless while this<\/p>

corner worker got his watch<\/p>

to<\/p>

grab my brain.<\/p>

He spoke to me,<\/p>

with a clarified tone<\/p>

and indistinct lack of refrain.<\/p>

In that,<\/p>

almost everyone said exactly<\/p>

what<\/p>

they wanted or meant.<\/p>

I suppose<\/p>

it didn\u2019t really help their<\/p>

sadness quench.<\/p>

Now people were<\/p>

evil and honest.<\/p>

This grinder asked me,<\/p>

for whatever was in my pocket,<\/p>

if I wanted an unforgettable memory<\/p>

locked and seared<\/p>

into my mind.<\/p>

Akin to a souvenir, yet inescapable<\/p>

and costing a time-travel token.<\/p>

I mean my trouser things had two<\/p>

items in their holders.<\/p>

This token,<\/p>

which I needed for my return home via<\/p>

continuum fold,<\/p>

and an old clipper<\/p>

which I\u2019m sure was so boring<\/p>

to a man of the future,<\/p>

that I would awaken<\/p>

some trauma caused frustration.<\/p>

He would retrieve a<\/p>

morphing and painful blunt object,<\/p>

to torment and lug<\/p>

at my unevolved head!<\/p>

Thus, I waved my hand at him, in the<\/p>

manner of least disgust and most<\/p>

hurriedness. Just so he might<\/p>

accept me busy and shift his<\/p>

gaze and watch\u2019s talking waves<\/p>

at some other wary walker.<\/p>

Of course, I was sorely mistaken.<\/p>

He maintained a speech of<\/p>

needy stories and foodless nights.<\/p>

It\u2019s one of my cruxes, that I hear,<\/p>

then listen, then bite.<\/p>

I chomped. Hard.<\/p>

I wanted to help this man<\/p>

who reminded me of homeland<\/p>

and aged attitudes.<\/p>

I\u2019d be rude<\/p>

not to at least offer the lighter.<\/p>

I\u2019m trying to quit and I can\u2019t<\/p>

help my biter-ways.<\/p>

So, I extend this proposition:<\/p>

my clipper for your offer of<\/p>

a picture to be experienced<\/p>

in infinite reminiscence.<\/p>

He inspected this foreign time-piece<\/p>

and said it was worth all that<\/p>

he had to give.<\/p>

I guess it was like an artefact.<\/p>

A flint, some fuel,<\/p>

a satisfying flick.<\/p>

Simple and gravitating for a<\/p>

a future dweller on a long<\/p>

and repetitive shift.<\/p>

He grabbed me by the temple.<\/p>

Told me to relax while he<\/p>

speaks to my brain and packs<\/p>

the image of this otherworld<\/p>

right into it.<\/p>

I felt a change in my perspective,<\/p>

like I wasn\u2019t ready for<\/p>

this altercation to my aims.<\/p>

On reflection, though,<\/p>

I knew I\u2019d never forget<\/p>

that neon-lit view.<\/p>

I cut on steel feet, attached to<\/p>

street-tracks and feeling<\/p>

opposed to bleakness.<\/p>

Neat, isn\u2019t it?<\/p>

That the light I brought<\/p>

to his face under a clipper spark,<\/p>

was enough for my mind\u2019s dark<\/p>

to brighten.<\/p>

If I could, I would<\/p>

have skipped along home,<\/p>

used my token and told my kids<\/p>

of this<\/p>

delightful visit and memory item.<\/p>

I wanted nothing more than to savor<\/p>

the last ounces of new-age bustle.<\/p>

An excited fidget of my fingers<\/p>

toward my pocket found a<\/p>

thin cylindrical shape.<\/p>

Whilst gliding on technology awe,<\/p>

my face shape dropped.<\/p>

Surely not. I pulled out that<\/p>

forgotten clipper.<\/p>

Shitttt.<\/p>

My token!<\/p>

I continued my frantic rustle.<\/p>

No luck. I looked to the neon<\/p>

lights and saw no man.<\/p>

I sighed with a beaten smile.<\/p>

I had been space-hustled.<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/details>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t

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My skin unblemished, I needed thickening.<\/p>

Coarser courses ground to be before me,<\/p>

Brought me sanded, within an inch<\/p>

Of glory, allowing smoothest slivering.<\/p>

Adorning proper grit; only grain for breakfast.<\/p>

Desire and necessity soon coalesced,<\/p>

Since adoring was not nurtured as such,<\/p>

I was shrivelled smaller than my incompleteness.<\/p>

It fits that tenacity must be fought for.<\/p>

My mother birthed me on her bed,<\/p>

And I have no taste to rest<\/p>

Unless my sorry legs go begging for it.<\/p>

First lesson I learnt was of perseverance.<\/p>

Do not check your progress.<\/p>

Reach your hand to hidden part of back; shove yourself.<\/p>

Simply fearing lack of heart to hate the floor.<\/p>

I\u2019ll love the ground until it doesn\u2019t mark me.<\/p>

Forearm, then forearm,<\/p>

Then palm,<\/p>

Then fingertips.<\/p>

Broke uncalloused weakness for a better grip.<\/p>

Still preaching: drive, drive!<\/p>

Wiser boys managed to recoil, while I<\/p>

Stoke hearth with but kindling.<\/p>

Relentless force demands astute choices.<\/p>

Dwindling inner fibre required grounded structure,<\/p>

Look\u2014 How long the heron waits all quiet,<\/p>

She doesn\u2019t chuckle or cry at luck.<\/p>

I poised at the crest of stairs and shimmered.<\/p>

Answered what I could and rarely guessed,<\/p>

Held restraint so close to chest,<\/p>

The centre of my being lessened,<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Grew when distanced from sly or sleight, who begged.<\/p>

Met them on a shady corner,<\/p>

They were sleazing up my neurons<\/p>

Wads of lucrative mischief.<\/p>

Matted sleek, dull to integrity\u2019s sheen.<\/p>

Nobility I knew partly from the TV<\/p>

Partly from those who would hardly touch<\/p>

And take responsibility.<\/p>

When the ball went out they held their arms up.<\/p>

Admittance of wrong footing,<\/p>

Willingness to laugh a confrontation until<\/p>

It was just a joking matter.<\/p>

Our bell rang – they were anyone\u2019s friend.<\/p>

Cakes, scones, and brownies at the charity stall.<\/p>

Often with their teethy family there,<\/p>

All for one, and one for you, for free.<\/p>

Tall smiles at me, staring at their crop.<\/p>

I reckoned we would stand like that if we united.<\/p>

Tried to work a smirk and check the blessings<\/p>

Despite them oft reflecting unrequited.<\/p>

Proper courtesy, not politeness.<\/p>

Though still determined, aligned,<\/p>

My emissions lightened.<\/p>

Tied my underlying corruption into self-defeating knots,<\/p>

My dear sin ran rings around itself.<\/p>

I thought myself intangible,<\/p>

Untangled and tied down,<\/p>

Until I touched the sun despite my tether.<\/p>

I let her bloom and bubble skin.<\/p>

Festered still on frosted grass,<\/p>

Sprinted in the swelter.<\/p>

Soon I knew the untold, smothering cuddle.<\/p>

My last lecture in self-control.<\/p>

Scoffed at the tester, took the briefest notes.<\/p>

Fumbled through my mid-teen struggle,<\/p>

Bested by a hugging choke.<\/p>

In seconds, down-slope came to make<\/p>

Me older, to urge, to force me tow the line<\/p>

Without a latch,<\/p>

With tears in eyes, I cut masked shapes,<\/p>

To fold and fracture, back jolted stiff.<\/p>

With brain fog, the crash felt loving.<\/p>

Snuck a lingered couple,<\/p>

Through the gate, without sound,<\/p>

They kissed to my demise.<\/p>

Chuckled from the reminiscing rear,<\/p>

I turned, biting, my structure<\/p>

Contorted, caved me from sky,<\/p>

Lullabied, a babied cheer<\/p>

Which struck me – I didn\u2019t fight.<\/p>

I cwtch\u2019d up on the gravel,<\/p>

My mates ladled liquor; double cost, quarter price.<\/p>

Paid for in my thinner spirit, I lost the virtues<\/p>

That were once mine.<\/p>

Questioned if they ever were, I still<\/p>

Wonder that on turning hours.<\/p>

I suggested time together was best spent<\/p>

Naked, behind smoke, my clouded gavel,<\/p>

Spat at me some horrid jokes.<\/p>

Their horridness was just a surface device for<\/p>

Greater simmering vices.<\/p>

I tossed their truths with a head between my thighs,<\/p>

We were completely clothed,<\/p>

Those decisive goodbyes,<\/p>

We stripped and dipped,<\/p>

That August night,<\/p>

Waved off any purity,<\/p>

With toxicity, we were delighted.<\/p>

What made sense in present<\/p>

Was our messiest path easiest nestled in\u2014<\/p>

Mum dialled on the seventh,<\/p>

I\u2019ll see her when Septembering brings<\/p>

My sinning sweating from the pores.<\/p>

I\u2019ll sauna in my home bed,<\/p>

Stinging by the shore.<\/p>

Twinging on a lone thread,<\/p>

Fling us a little more.<\/p>

We\u2019re just a tad corrupted,<\/p>

Torn to shreds, with pieces reassembled.<\/p>

Forearms to shins and<\/p>

Palms to side of head.<\/p>

Determined only to crumble faster,<\/p>

Rectitude a ball we lob, play catch with,<\/p>

Decorum a huffing task,<\/p>

Withheld, steady breath,<\/p>

Lost relics from a muddled past.<\/p>

From when we melded with our desperate dirt,<\/p>

Squeezed its terraformed parts,<\/p>

Paired our optimism with naive energy.<\/p>

Faced with how we were,<\/p>

I wonder if we cleverly keep our gaze,<\/p>

Or mistake those astray peripherals for clear paths.<\/p>

We\u2019d walk wayward for ages.<\/p>

Oh, but we look so cute stumbling about,<\/p>

My closest and I, our former selves tucked.<\/p>

Stowed away in backpacks, clogged and flouted,<\/p>

Trading what could have been, our beloved duct.<\/p>

I see where we snooze, right between choosing,<\/p>

Bridging gaps with bodies on bodies; stuck.<\/p>

Beautifully we forethought, amusing<\/p>

Those residing where we on-looked,<\/p>

Aghhhh fuck!<\/p>

Muck under nails – matted hair – ranting proud,<\/p>

Certificates torn up, we flail blank sheets,<\/p>

A failing golden mean, its gleam foul.<\/p>

Aimed our fangs to least chewing, where we sink our dogteeth,<\/p>

That fleeting nectar, we begged for mouthfuls,<\/p>

Bellies conjectured, who knows if we were<\/p>

Doubtful.<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/details>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t

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A Message from the Painless Place: Dream of Me When You Wake Up<\/h2>\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t
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My first collection, finished in 2022 when I was 18 or 19, sets the tone for my writing to come. Dissociative, philosophical, fantastical, the collection plays with structure, encrypted messages, and otherworlds. With a consistent focus on dialogue and narrative, I try to explore concepts and themes through circumstances and character. Equally, I discuss the interpretation of my own introspection, attempting to decide how I might psychoanalyse particularly pivotal moments\/conversations in my late-teens. For many reasons, this was a challenging and lonely time in my life, as I’m sure leaks out of the verses. Therefore, the poems appear either brutal and direct or completely detached from reality. Looking back, I feel the despair and honestly find it quite hard to read sometimes, both because of the context and the fact that my actual skill as a poet hadn’t yet caught up with the complexity of the thoughts I was having. Here are a few poems from the collection that I still think hold up:<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t

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(5) The Boy by the Birch Who Couldn't Stay Long <\/div><\/span>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t<\/path><\/svg><\/span>\n\t\t\t<\/path><\/svg><\/span>\n\t\t<\/span>\n\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/summary>\n\t\t\t\t
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Skin reflects a passion for self-destruction,<\/p>

so scarred. Scraped against passing hazards.<\/p>

Ruptured from tearing times; he rarely wore shoes.<\/p>

Feeling the earth, enjoying its rind.<\/p>

Speaking natural dialects, kinds of words that<\/p>

toyed with the animals around.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

On his toes, he spent lower hours<\/p>

gliding through trees, pretending his need for<\/p>

a shower of attention was given through echoes in caves,<\/p>

or echoes in leaves, where his voice broke a gale<\/p>

to bounce off bark and talk back.<\/p>

Shout as he might, the whale he whined\u00a0<\/p>

never uttered with the same force as its source.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

It was a true curiosity of all<\/p>

when they saw him to ponder where he went.<\/p>

After a shaping of the world<\/p>

that was arduous, his stay was never long.<\/p>

And he\u2019d leave his pieces behind, as if<\/p>

they didn\u2019t give him the song he sought to hear.<\/p>

Bent on finding fortune in those piled sticks,<\/p>

he paid his rent in remains for more comfortable dwellers.<\/p>

Tricking himself into thinking his work was all wrong.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Now, the boy cannot teach you much,<\/p>

for his chat is often misunderstood.<\/p>

In his clicks and whistles, he sings to the<\/p>

birch trees in the woods.<\/p>

Flicking through shrubs.<\/p>

They are his book-pages.<\/p>

Wait for a while, though,<\/p>

even ages.<\/p>

You can spot what makes him tick,<\/p>

gauging the strength of the rain that will come.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

In his smell he sniffs stories in the air,<\/p>

building his life in his hands, he clung to any branch,<\/p>

his grip: calloused and thick.<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/details>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t

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(8) Denial <\/div><\/span>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t<\/path><\/svg><\/span>\n\t\t\t<\/path><\/svg><\/span>\n\t\t<\/span>\n\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/summary>\n\t\t\t\t
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Enquired as to her occupation,<\/p>

below a window,<\/p>

where their mutuals mingled,<\/p>

which she happily supplied.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Oh really, how interesting,<\/i><\/p>

it\u2019s not making it to his long-term memory,<\/p>

but it\u2019ll do for tonight,<\/p>

she thought, shortly avoiding his eyes.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

He asked another,<\/p>

this time in relation to her Summer interests.<\/p>

She didn\u2019t bite too deep,<\/p>

only revealing what kills her distress.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Your secrets are yours,<\/p>

no further did he press,<\/p>

to contest her opinions was,<\/p>

clearly the furthest he would step.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Neither smoked,<\/p>

though they linked in chain to<\/p>

uphold chat, avoid a losing backlash.<\/p>

And they suffered from infatuation,<\/p>

Neither would admit that.<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/details>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t

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(10) Taking Care of Business <\/div><\/span>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t<\/path><\/svg><\/span>\n\t\t\t<\/path><\/svg><\/span>\n\t\t<\/span>\n\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/summary>\n\t\t\t\t
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They couldn\u2019t quite buy it. You, delighted,<\/p>

waited for their head to drop in shame.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

It isn\u2019t evidence of unrequited, true, but<\/p>

deny it you did when they came with a dense heart.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Held their veins under lens, I didn\u2019t<\/p>

know your actions needed such astute defending.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

They twitched their lobes at a nosey pitch,<\/p>

sowing timeless plots to win when you are gone elsewhere.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Oh, you fretted and ransomed their evening to<\/p>

your space invading tantrum; what a bore!<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Despite their handsome credentials,<\/p>

I\u2019d never spotted a more fraying hold on a prized piece.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

They delivered you back,<\/p>

deceased,<\/p>

tied to your wrists,<\/p>

two lists of your regrets.<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/details>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t

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(16) Individual Fictions <\/div><\/span>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t<\/path><\/svg><\/span>\n\t\t\t<\/path><\/svg><\/span>\n\t\t<\/span>\n\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/summary>\n\t\t\t\t
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Every book sat at a different angle,<\/p>

with a different story,<\/p>

mostly of the same words,<\/p>

same phrases heard in<\/p>

different combinations.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

I wonder if the librarian,<\/p>

took note of these wacky placements,<\/p>

intent on sitting off course.<\/p>

Of course it\u2019s chance’s case,<\/p>

altering causes of hand,<\/p>

leaves each shelf with a changed making.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Each time a book lent,<\/p>

a new one bent in a new way,<\/p>

perhaps it sat like this before,<\/p>

but there\u2019s no way to tell<\/p>

for certain or sure,<\/p>

as this book talks of history<\/p>

and this one of magic,<\/p>

and this one in tragedy form,<\/p>

that really isn\u2019t all tragic.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

I took one and corrected it straight.<\/p>

A little bait my interference,<\/p>

I couldn\u2019t wait for it to correct itself,<\/p>

from someone else\u2019s browsing,<\/p>

and following rejection,<\/p>

of every book<\/p>

on every shelf.<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/details>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t

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(17) Foil <\/div><\/span>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t<\/path><\/svg><\/span>\n\t\t\t<\/path><\/svg><\/span>\n\t\t<\/span>\n\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/summary>\n\t\t\t\t
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Not much more than a fiery faun<\/p>

with hairy legs, I dawn to<\/p>

bare-burn a flameless burden.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Gorged in skin was a crackless flaunt,<\/p>

haunting hind talk, a shiver<\/p>

did remind of a self so chalky.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

As wash makes cloud, their teases<\/p>

taunt and steal truth, belief<\/p>

in a queen being to only act pawn.<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/details>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t

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(27) You Can't Fish Here <\/div><\/span>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t<\/path><\/svg><\/span>\n\t\t\t<\/path><\/svg><\/span>\n\t\t<\/span>\n\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/summary>\n\t\t\t\t
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I\u2019d only die for you if death were not<\/p>

such a painless place.<\/p>

I give to you instead my life,<\/p>

one of endless effort.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

And I\u2019ll only live for this,<\/p>

if this keeps living.<\/p>

What is the worth of my given life,<\/p>

otherwise,<\/p>

but a moving body, unwilling?<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/details>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t

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(39) Cowbell <\/div><\/span>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t<\/path><\/svg><\/span>\n\t\t\t<\/path><\/svg><\/span>\n\t\t<\/span>\n\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/summary>\n\t\t\t\t
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Snoop, search and wonder<\/p>

what is uncovered:<\/p>

Whatever the other truth teller<\/p>

has to yell.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Cooked on a bed of<\/p>

fever and foul smell:<\/p>

a lover, found around<\/p>

her neck was a cowbell.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/details>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t

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(42) Beside the Lake <\/div><\/span>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t<\/path><\/svg><\/span>\n\t\t\t<\/path><\/svg><\/span>\n\t\t<\/span>\n\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/summary>\n\t\t\t\t
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It\u2019ll be you and you and me and him and her<\/p>

With a will do wont do I\u2019ll be there if I\u2019m there<\/p>

Kind of attitude.<\/p>

The kind of: Oh, you\u2019re late, it\u2019s fineeee<\/em><\/p>

Just take a certain route<\/p>

Down a certain station<\/p>

On a certain line<\/p>

Sly a no-entry shortcut to save yourself<\/p>

That time you lost tossing things<\/p>

Over your shoulder, deciding what<\/p>

Patterned or crossed-lace lining you\u2019d<\/p>

Be finding yourself in later tonight.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

And you. You\u2019ll be on the dot.<\/p>

I\u2019ve never not found you by the hour<\/p>

On the spot we grounded as our<\/p>

Drop off point.<\/p>

Rarely seeking a soft daps<\/p>

I\u2019ll hug you hard without a pat<\/p>

Jumping down and up, smacking<\/p>

Floor with soles, solely grins<\/p>

From even the most frequently frowning skins.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Swimming for a moment<\/p>

In our shared heads, there’s a lake of<\/p>

Other dates we\u2019d waited longer.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

And him and her were bickering<\/p>

Further round the corner.<\/p>

We\u2019ve been here forever<\/p>

Slating you guys for slowness.<\/p>

Now, a herd, I hear harsher words<\/p>

Than ever before<\/p>

Spoken softly\u00a0<\/span>to the point our ears<\/p>

Could nearly ignore them.<\/p>

Don\u2019t mind him and her<\/p>

They don\u2019t mean it.<\/p>

Recently, frankly, their insults have<\/p>

Become more boring, less imploring<\/p>

Less sure of themselves<\/p>

I\u2019ve caught onto that<\/p>

Since that one morning<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Or a spillover night<\/p>

Where they both gripped my head<\/p>

And forced me to meet their eyes.<\/p>

Bawling, they gritted their teeth<\/p>

While telling me they never<\/p>

Meant the things they said.<\/p>

Bringing my heart to theirs,<\/p>

I pled that instead of<\/p>

Delving into their sorrow<\/p>

They might find a bed to rest<\/p>

Before their throbbing heads<\/p>

Hit by twelve tomorrow.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

And me?<\/p>

Don\u2019t pay a worry to that, I don\u2019t!<\/p>

Just see me when you can and hurry down<\/p>

The side road for a quick smoke.<\/p>

It’ll always be a plan if we<\/p>

Name a minute to meet.<\/p>

We\u2019ll swim in those lakes again<\/p>

Greeting past traumas<\/p>

Filling in dreams.<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

After, a little bit later<\/p>

We\u2019ll plaster bitty broken heart pieces.<\/p>

Teasing our teething pasts.<\/p>

Departing from that panging feeling that<\/p>

Dragged us when we ran apart.<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/details>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Poems \u00a0A selection of Spike’s verse work. Separate from the street, written on topics he chooses, at his own pace, in his room, on his bed, on the train, the tube, by the sea, in parks, cafes, hostels, parties, raves, and anywhere there might be time to grab his notebook, pen, laptop, or typewriter. Gold […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":10,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"elementor_canvas","meta":{"site-sidebar-layout":"no-sidebar","site-content-layout":"page-builder","ast-site-content-layout":"full-width-container","site-content-style":"default","site-sidebar-style":"default","ast-global-header-display":"","ast-banner-title-visibility":"","ast-main-header-display":"","ast-hfb-above-header-display":"","ast-hfb-below-header-display":"","ast-hfb-mobile-header-display":"","site-post-title":"","ast-breadcrumbs-content":"","ast-featured-img":"disabled","footer-sml-layout":"","ast-disable-related-posts":"","theme-transparent-header-meta":"","adv-header-id-meta":"","stick-header-meta":"","header-above-stick-meta":"","header-main-stick-meta":"","header-below-stick-meta":"","astra-migrate-meta-layouts":"default","ast-page-background-enabled":"default","ast-page-background-meta":{"desktop":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"tablet":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"mobile":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""}},"ast-content-background-meta":{"desktop":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-5)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"tablet":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-5)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"mobile":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-5)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""}},"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-1207","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/spikehowarth.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1207","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/spikehowarth.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/spikehowarth.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/spikehowarth.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/spikehowarth.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1207"}],"version-history":[{"count":59,"href":"https:\/\/spikehowarth.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1207\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1484,"href":"https:\/\/spikehowarth.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1207\/revisions\/1484"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/spikehowarth.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/10"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/spikehowarth.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1207"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}