A short(er) one

Bric-a-brac

I drop anchor and tamper with the ship sink mechanism
clip water wings four corners to the surface risen
infinite light kept in the prison of a prism
defending the right to keep blinkers of cynicism
maintain vision with microscope eye to the system
the big picture digital widescreen transfer
dancer with devils and dynamic specters
romancer and rebel, chameleon splendour
metal skin leisure in the relevance lecture
knew when you met the
stretcher of a beat, sweet texture like nectar speaker of a speech
a soothsayer the main captain of the boat that stays afloat in rough rain
plus stormtime conext; a complex montage of time and place
rhyme at a random pace, throw my heart far and give chase
I shuffle the cards and deal a kick with soul to the sleeping canine
I travel the mainline with camera behave-like

Pace straight in with that right place wrong time dynamic
horseplay-faced constrained to the planet
damn it, my jet boots wreck loose and spark small with no pep juice
its the recluse: glass of fruit juice nad some pen/page movement
ice age persuant of snake hair medusa
write a page covered in space age pursuits the
rhymer of a riddle in the middle of your bickering
louder than bombs but with subtle hit like whispering
writing a wrong too many young kids on ritalin
leave the whole place glistening, crystaline
when plans go long its just the nature of the mission its
hell with bells on an incomplete vision of
where we dwell on an ageing picture of
times removed from the one we stand in
hand in hand in quiet unified abandon
til we land on the sand and stroll shoreward
forward.

3rd wave

Good Monday to you, heres some more stuff I've written:

Amalgam

I'm an amalgam, a tattered scrapbook, a battered black book of names and digits
the ink fades to a lighter tone as time goes on I sit and fidget
I figure lifes blink and you'll miss it property
I'm an amalgam, a properly organised list of pastiche in a post-post modern age
where everything looks old and new at the same time so I don't know where I am
Cause I've seen it all before but I've never seen this before
infomercial spliced with folklore, they make everything seem like its too real
compound double bluff, your brainwashed with double dutch
I may be aloof then so be it but I won't put out my fire with forced meetings
meaningles small talk over cofee and down phones
too tired to appreciate my wife when I get home
we seem to forget that were free to roam
despite the ne news filter all is not lost
the sun shuts down then we rise surrounded by frost
natures still our real boss
as sure as night follows day and it surely does
I'll be regarding it all just cause I can, to make an effort to understand
in a time with no defining character, excpet that it has no defining character
if there needs to be one it isn't me, I travel too close to the sun
any effort made hateward is a selection of wasted steps
I'm an amalgam of all the music I ever heard with baited breath,
of the feeling I got when I first became aware of the cold footsteps of death on my heels
so now even when i'm running up the down escalator i'm aware its all finite
so now I care that I live right
write rhymes, 9-5 grind in the daytime, speak over beats and see my people at night
The trees were here before you made them into fax paper
the sky was clean and clear before the black vapour
you push people to the edge and back again
I guarantee they were happier before they were treated like battery hens
and not humans
it's harming your business; people off sick cause hey don't feel human
I wish I could spread wings and herald the city and say "were just humans"
and all the cars and buses stop moving
long enough for us to reflect inside and out again
even the facets were scared to bare to the open air
and so many of us will never get to be ourselves or properly know each other
and instead we pace, smothered in a steel blanket with false angles
beaming attitude and bravado for the benefit of strangers
I've been myself since i lept from stagnant socials pools like a frog post-spawn
I'd reccomend it, grab the rose/thorn combination and see the beauty in both
see the colours of fire in explosions an unending process like rocks eroding
will you still want that latte on your deathbed?
or will you realise by then that others opinions can ruin your life if they pilot your head
I think free as the air but its a matter of time before I can't use that simile in a rhyme
people read more magazines than books
and are taught to judge by looks and to buy music sold to you by crooks and art rapists
I'm sick of artificial digital representations so I keep it pen and paper, back to basics
I'll ignore the fact its all getting more like the matrix
and try to find something real to grasp as i'm ageing
forced to the fringes with internal war waging
so now I know who I am and I know who I'm not
and I wake every day with my guts in a knot
put a note to myself over beats and my dreams in a box
kept locked and long lost
I dress to my specification and push buttons for detination
you must be missing your mother; you let a stranger tell you what to think and what to wear
yeah ok then, I'm the weird one
not suited to these current social climes I spit these jibes at the hive mind
and whip out the carpet from under your feet
to say i've got beef is an understatement
its more like herds covering acres.


W.Y.H.I.W.Y.G

Its the lyricist that thinks of this, not sex, every seven seconds
poorly porposed I suppose, composed for those who hopes crave real things
gat a fondness for feelings like bee stings and morphine, endorphin withdrawals
unauthorised murals that liven up walls
with a grip on my goals and my soul I raise sword up
not for slaugter but I sure as hell wave the blade perilous
its that daily endeavour to take fate and self serious
remaining under the radar with tricks up and heart on sleeve
arms out to those who stare at them when i'm not wearing them
sometimes the ink in my tissue causes a different skin colour issue
its funny how people think they know you whne you've never spoke to them
believe you me shock value is not the intent, still has that effect
but the ink I sink is not for them
it goes: one to lay past regrets to rest, two for wngels who watch over and know me best
and I expect you'll end up hearing the rest in this prose I compose to get stuff off my chest
whenever the situation worsens and it seemd like curtains I do my best
never the less, you can be certain that life's predictable cadence tests my patience
so I warp established frameworks into the shape of something alien(ated)
keep trying to figure me out keep failing
I'm walking after dark with fat markers when its raining
repeating my phrasing under my breath I take in the atmosphere
smoke at my lips and i'm catching my death and i'm happy here
wherever here is
I keep moving on like beatniks, fearless, with ability to laugh at a near miss
I dance delicately balanced on the edge of a precipice
tearing out my throat screaming quotes at the abyss til its pail like six broken wrists
picture this

Don't pin your hopes on me I can't get my own to stay attached
if you keep an image of me in your mind i'll redefine myself and snatch it back
the frost bites at my soul til its frozen, broken and black; cracked
the chill extinguishes bridges I burnt in nervousness past
with one hand balled in a fist and the other blowing a kiss I stare back at this
unaware of what i'm aiming at in my brain I can't miss
nothing more here than me, beats I made and words I writ
its an improvised script for the humourless skits that bookend me
I choose the volumes then turn up the volume
the sound illuminates dark past paths, twisting back and bending
some of the parts neeed mending they've been out of action for too long
so I take time to seba the paradox before I move on
I shadowbox with an unknown opponent
a potent self awareness now so glaring that i'm pairing it with my own distant drums
I can't ignore it all my flaws lit up like pinball for all to see
I hope to either side of the faultline as it widens: timeless
with eyes open wide to defy previous blindness
no spite for me, I dodge that trap with a sidestep
I hold a grudge in a vice like grip, crush it to death then let it slip
like ashes falling through and hourglass
I watch til my faces matches their palour, all the colours drain and things get duller
on the set of my film i'm the tech, set designeer and focus puller
its getting beyond a joke now: no longer rhyming words fr the sake of it
cause I can look back pleased with my page and the way I decorated it
it took me a while to know how, I was gathering know how
for ages I was like "no, how is this gonna work"
but then i'm cuing in a shop and I crack a smirk cause a rhyming line hits me like its composed of coke
and i'm back to work with a bus ticket and a biro, and I now know how goes my own flow
like a waterfall back up onto the rocks I switch the gravity of the situation i'm facing til its laced with a dark wit
I spark sarcastic and spit sardonic
no time to start shit when clocks tick ominous
wordaholics anonymous

Aye aye, I spy a tired guy from fights with broken promises
back straight like atlas shouldering honesty
this is me presented honestly and its more kerouac than street rap if you can handle that
if not I suggest you take this one back
heres the haps: with one hand I pick up a pen and then with the other I take up the slack
with both I hold tenderness for a million difficult lives
in comparison to some guys i've had easy times
but I can't help that, any more than than the colour of my eyes or the colour my hair grows
I could cover up with a dye but thats lying and I'd still know
I apply that same logic to rhymes I write
kepping it real in the realest sense; honesty or nothing no seat on the fence
no time to give it a second thought when guilt spills forth from an unknown source
things get fraught
lost track of the times i've fought with myself over this
I swim amidst a mix of ignorance and bliss
clocking some girl, biting my fist like "is she real?"
but I know the deal, I got it in a backhand
like this tattered notebook held tight with elastic bands
so now I travel the land; a spliffed up drifter dodging sinking sands
A thousand narrow escapes, I drink ink and vomit a landscape
I step down to the lake with cigarette pack and some jack in a beaker
polluting my bloodstream when things are bleaker til they seem sweeter

One think I know is none of it stays the same
the shapes change and I can't remain in the same place
so I change aims and switch names and try try try again
thats me stood in the rain bending lightening to form my name:
stowaway

A couple more there

Afternoon (depending on where you are) folk,
heres a couple more

Pebble

I'm a pebble on a riverbed
as water whirs above time tears down my frame in imperceptable ways
I don't shoulder the burden of something to prove
so I can keep this moving with nothing to lose
I carry guilt for thought crimes
this is all mine
you can't ruin it for me by hyping it up and throwing it in my face
feed me things I love til I hate them
give up on me cause i'm shy and you don't have the patience for an acquired taste
sink me deep in amber and i'll shiver til cracks form spelling "I told you so"
the "just one of those days" has gone on for weeks now
give me a break or enough rope
give me options for compromise until I can't pick myself out of a line-up of one
i'm tuned out, nothing on the schedule anyway
my greatest hits tour is me walking home in the rain
muttering this under my breath, a little something for the pain
You better believe me, can't dilute me, better delete me
were all unique, most are real bad at it
live the life
like wearing all the logos and shiny badges will make you more than the sum of your parts
internalise the problem; lungs livers and hearts look better with sparkles
pimp my organs so I can look good at the autopsy
dig me up every month and replace them so I can stay current
I want to dazzle the coroner when he lifts out my ribs to see what did it
like a limited edition stained glass window by pharrel
now we know celebrities well enough to only use first names on a magazine cover
you'll have to give me more of a clue
I was too busy doing a handstand buried up to my shoulders to catch the scraps of gossip
take a photo of a projection of a copy of a hologram of the life of a shell of a woman
scrapbooked and stapled to fable
shes like the sun
put objects near her they get hot and everyone wants one
and everyone wants in, in the biblical sense
drape her frame in cloths and they'll fly out of shops quicker than you can say costume
life is a log flume
you can make a big splash when you hit bottom where the rocks are
they beat people and scissors in three shakes and your gone and forgotten rock star
not far til the end of the road
they build them shorter these days
do you know who you are minus the camera in your face?
gone from grace to ground before they can spell ou "well publicised problems" on a tabloid printing press
and they'll forget
the witty headlines they came up with.


lights up

A stitch in time to keep the weeks together
connected in a film strip; sealed
the scenes play out and it feels played out
the cast of characters becomes narrower
the chasm to carry gets shallower til it cancels itself out
a lit match hits the surface of water, zeros are added together
nothing changes but the projectionist's spool

Lights up
as a rule i've been chasing these pages through overprriced daylight and mazes of finite culture
I drive right but stay in the left lane
no eye contact with the head post-guillotine
don't look twice at your litter
the bitter bit of yourself you left
drop it like the bits of yourself you leave out for effect or respect
still resenting breaking your neck for acceptance
fast forward and see if you still care
nice suit
having the time of your shelf life
we just fell right into a time without a Marty Mcfly standpoint to say hi from
my mind blown between blinks
between lines lie links
you phoned in your dynamic while I levitate to see scale
one peek too many and now i feel dread
as a glimpse of the abyss taints the taste of the daily bread
I said what I meant and meant what I said
two steps forward, one foot in the grave
you only behave concerned, I play ball and then burn when your backs turn
I hold concepts in the same hands empty of answers or weapons
all I've got is more questions
but heres the fun part: theres time left yet for us to get lost in
thats the bottom line drawn when we make things
I made this from flights of fancy and scraps of potentials and i'll think on

I take a leap back and plan before my feet land
if infectiousness is infectious then i've caught that bad
got the manner of a spanner in the works and the writing on the wall
this is a post christian distress call cause none of us know what life is for
beware those that claim to they'll use it to screw you to the floor
look at your TV while its not switched on
where did it come from?
is it just there cause your parents had one?
what does it do for you? does it love you back?
does it enhance your life with simulation or kill time and imagination
it exerts external force to keep you locked, look at that shop
is it really your friend as it tells you?
or is its whole purpose to sell you and make you wish like hell you had enough for those shoes
to be in with a tedious in crowd when you should be proud of whats in your shoes right now
and the billboard which glares at you on the way to work
someone somewhere is making you insecure
and they know how to push buttons on subconcious levels
disguising beauty as health to increase its relevance and neccesity
these people rape your confidence then offer solutions
for a price
like setting you on fire and selling you water
you won't falter to cough up otherwise the glitzy types in the barcardi ad won't want to party with you in their pretend mansion this weekend
so i'm saying:

why let people who have never met us decide that what we find beautiful is something we can't live up to?

why let people who have never met us decide that what we find beutiful is something we can't live up to but we can pay them money and try for the rest of our lives

bottom line is you don't have to buy in to their beautiful lies
cause girls, you look fine without that stuff round your eyes
and I don't know if its my place but I sort of like your real face.

Hello there

Hi Reader,
I'm going to upload all my writing (poems, raps, prose, rants) on here for people to check out.
I'll keep it updated with new ones as I write them but I've got a few to put up for now, i'm going to start with a couple of shorter ones from my cd line one.
Hope you enjoy, get in touch with any comments or anything.
Thankyou.

Stowaway.

consequence number 1

And meanwhile a dad comes home

from work at the end of the day

at the same ad agency who in part are the cause of his daughters eating disorder

shes one floor up looking at more magazines with women in than the boys in her class do

but shes so shy she feels the need to hide when they pass through the classroom

and unknown to all of them shes up nights

staring at the dark wondering what shes supposed to look like

she spends a lot of time by the full length mirror

contorting her proportions til she looks thinner

earlier that day at a school councillor meeting she lies a few times about accounts of her eating

she drops the copy of glamour when she hears her fathers cheerful greeting

and clamours for the mental make up

to look less sad more beguiling

so she can go down to meet him smiling

The girls too young to know the nature of her dad's work

to more effectively attack teen self esteem and make her problems worse

but his schedules too hectic and they never converse

and dad never looks up from his lifestyle

he sips scotch in a leather chair, its late at night now

and meanwhile, its all rosy in his mind

but the pictures he makes are why his little darlings up there crying with the lights out

right now.

seems sad how the teen dream is a cash cow.

Oh my

Oh for a thick neck and noble features!
to look down amused at weaker creatures
for a rugged jawline, to be a captain of something
anything
oh for a name whose mere mention grants entry through the most exclusive of doors
where inclusion awaits
oh to be amongst the finest of people, the finest of drinks
the mingle with the well fed corpses in waiting
stuffed giddy with each others praise and coughing up glitter
to be amongst the finest of women; framed in peacock tails of imported cigarette smoke
spreading open my character on examination tables with their roving eyes and coy superstitions
to be enveloped in the cigar smoke and backslapping of a self created power network
to stare up the ladder til my neck hurts
and bust my back til the veins in my neck burst
like fireworks over the New York stock exchange
on a good day.


Camo girl

At first your social camoflague caught me off guard
which isn't hard when its you, me, the bar and two beers
and your telling me what I want to hear
keep building the fiction
put that next to fact and it can't come near
you can't blame me for the fact that your not what you claim to be
now I plainly see
you
minus your self-built contextual frames
and what we could have had turns grey and fades like ashes in rain

I came to play spot the difference, all I saw was the same.