Where is my ambience?

Let me forget for a moment that I actually don’t feel depressed about various happenings.

Why are certain people warming to me, yet the people I’d like to actually notice I exist don’t. I am very subtle with my interaction, never forging anything until I get the ok. This I think will be like a merry go round.

I sat on a swing taking my limits to the sky. Hoping to just reach out and grab the moon, in a hope it would shed some light. But to and throw I was subjected. Without aim and without failure. Walking curiously to a merry go round and setting down my fears until my emotions became giddy.

Last week on a very humble and tepid Sunday afternoon, I dinned at my brother and sister in laws home. It was a very faithful evening spent drinking, sharing delicate tastes and swapping conversations. But for the first time in my life I really felt jealous. I had all this just 6 months ago. A home, a living space, bathroom that I cleaned and a kitchen that I cooked the best pasta. But it’s all gone. And one person took that away. The one person I believed in more than anyone else.

I walk into an empty room. My belongings are outside blowing in the wind. Each space is no longer occupied with my beautiful things. I can’t hear the laughter anymore, only the pain. I leave my heart by the door and my confidence sits outside the window. They are waiting. BUT I WILL NEVER RETURN...

Dreaming the fairytale

The girl awoke with feverish fingers

Was she playing with her nightmares again?

Every night the same old story

No fairytale in sight.

But one subdued morning

She waded out into the world.

And stubbled upon a glistening head piece

A sparkling crown made of the purest stones.

Her heart leapt in spasms of happy

Clutching it close to her warmth.

That night she slept with her encrusted attire

Sinking deep into the night.

And when she awoke in her reverie

No longer was she all alone.

Unicorns demure and graceful

And Technicolor skies.

Robed in a dress a flourish of silk

In her reflection not a monster in sight.

But when she woke from the deepest slumber

Her crown was nowhere to be seen.

For as she lay there sleeping

It fell many miles to the floor.

And now as her eyes are prizing open

She will know it was not the crown

But her belief that wrote her fairytale.

Thoughts

If I can’t feel you anymore

Those delicate brushes with skin.

Or hear your genius mind

Wildly challenging my ears.

Without those moments of laughter

The belly aches that felt so good.

And amidst the times you loved me

For being me and just myself.

Hands that held like glue

With warm and honest fingers.

Dreams we both possessed

For much a greater meaning.

Moments forged with sublime breath

That tickle before a kiss.

Something that could have lasted eons

Sadly now has given way.

I’ll remember every inch of happiness

For I know that why it lasted it felt so good.

Baby steps... baby breaths,

I have taken too seriously thinking about taking my writing a lot more serious. I have for many years had this ambition to write something of substance. But I am constantly finding obstacles. But I wonder sometimes if my stepping stones are merely just excuses. And I have to just find my head and simply kick it into action.

My theory for the last few months has been to set myself little happy moments of feelings of niceness. I mean that I set myself up for something which I know will please me. Anything from buying a new CD or book, to buying a Latte or going to see Bat for lashes in a few weeks. I am trying to surround myself with new memories that I am able to control. I am scared of not being in control of what may be happening to me. I have in the past been very happy with a spontanious life. But of late I can’t hack it. So I please myself with these little treats. Anything that gives me a happy chill. Take for instance my new grey trousers I bought last week. I love them, teamed up with my black boots and a long sleeve black top I feel great. I have not felt like that for ages. My insecurities were raging. But I am now shifting in smiles with making myself feel good inside and out.

Saturday I will check out the new Darwin centre at the Science museum (wearing my new trousers, hahha).

Baby steps... baby breaths,

Holding My Own

My ambitions have always been very short lived. I have loads of ideas that come and go, and I am forever wondering what I would really like to do. This may be my trait. I can’t focus on something for a vast period of time. I do try and give it my all, but I am certain to lose faith and struggle to connect. Studying at school was for me a low point, as I imagine many will agree. But you see that for me it was just a barrage of knock downs and insecurities impounding. So to cut a very delicate long story short, I am unable to put any real level of passion into various obstacles. Like work for instance. I may not be pulling in the £s But I am certainly living. I am working very hard and putting skills that others would dribble over to good use. And I am able to live a generous life. I would rather a topman suit than a Gucci, and a pizza express over an overpriced, tiny morsel restaurant.

This for me is about living for me and not others. I tried the living for others and it sucks the life out of you. You see that I was not entirely honest when stating that I have never put much thought into something, I have..... Someone to be precise. This was the one time that all my efforts and studying came to affect. I worked my fingers down to the gristle.... and for what.

But this is a really valuable lesson for me. I have since taken a maths course and passed. Taken up the guitar with a steady progress. I am enlightening my creative and artistic hunger with museums and galleries. It seems that I am learning more when I am doing it for myself. Because I know that I will appreciate everything I do from now on.

This wonder has been spent.

With a liquid mind swimming

To learn new points of interest

Is to take away the lack of.

POeMs 10-09

A Beauty To Watch Over

I watch you from afar,
As light enhances you from above,
I tremble from deep within,
At the beauty you have been blessed with,
Your eyes are a portrait of splendour,
My heart refuses to falter,
I lay silent tasting every breath you take,
And shudder at every movement you make,
And every night when we are apart,
I still watch you from afar,
Sinking deeper into the torment,
Of not having you here to share in my mornings,
Yet my love I could never want another,
As much as the beauty I watch over.

*

Will I Wonder Any More?

I can't even try to...
When I'm alone
Everythings just like you
I'm so afraid
To be here grieving
For someone who left
Without even loving
I better off leaving
I am a passenger
on another journey
Simply lost but still breathing

How far have i come?
Walk a mile just to walk too far
How much should I take of this?
An immortal kiss from feeling anything.

I wanted just to say
I'll live to smile again
Wandered out of view
only to pass by you
Withering like a flower
Once bright with love and colour.

*

Harlequinade

I know this has all been staged, I am just another actor in one of your pantomimes, You use props as obstacles, In order to prolong your spectacle, So what role am I actually playing? Well let me guess, I am performing several soul drained characters, There is the one who takes himself apart, And still can't work out why he feels so much hurt, The one who longs to be released from all the pain, Even to the point he is wiling to spoil himself, Lets not forget the one who climbs in and outside of himself, Unable to live in the vicinity of his own nightmares, How about letting me rewrite this piece, I'll perform just one act, And play a hundred roles, Ninety nine if them will be the rotting corpses, And the one left will use them as his many emotions, Now I bet that freaks you out, The fact that I have have found a way to separate myself...

Going Under...?

I have been thinking seriously about seeing someone of stature that may be able to address my current outlet of being highly strung and very inconsistent with feeling happy. I have always tried to put this off, this politely is just a result of not wanting someone to tell me that they know what’s going on in my head. But I am in a constant numbness and feel that I may have to reach out. I have friends, one good one in particular, but many who have taken me for granted and left me actually feeling very subdued. I want to feel alive... Not this current abandonment.

I am still yet to understand why I continue to take others feelings into consideration, even when I don’t really know them. I am just showing my warmth of personality. Please don’t take away the one thing I might have going for me. I don’t want much in return. Just the same attention I offer. When in doubt......I should run and hide, yet I stay and become increasingly ill mannered with the segregation. Maybe I do need to seek some reliance and advice. Maybe I should give in and admit I have a problem and start to take heed on others recommendations. As Marillion once said I’m going under.

Marillion: A discovery and a salvation Part 2

Following on from my account of Marillion and their vast stimulation in my life, I am finding that while I am typing this and listening to their music, I am becoming increasingly dependent on feeling down. This I must inform you are not in reference to the music but to the notion. I love this band with a passion, but along the way I have also loved people who have somehow managed to share part of the magic of Marillion. With this in mind I have not been able to listen to Kayleigh for such a length of time. I therefore feel concrete with my addiction. They are able to move me relentless of happiness or blues.

Every now and then Marillion invade my senses and I become virtually emotional to their touch. This however does not really conclude my journey with the fab 5. Now in a state of forlorn exposure I am inclined to focus myself hardier on their music. This really is just the beginning.

For my words are all I really am.

Little Dreams Little dreams Those minute memories A splinter in my mind Just tiny moments I can never forget Lingering deep down inside They shift about nervously Entwining with my thoughts Until once again they shrink Nearly not existing at all. * Fruit Of The Blood Her richness in red She is full bodied So ripe to perfection And so aroused when I taste her. But she will not let me drink all of her For she is far too potent We just breathe together And let the moon be our witness. Just like the picking of a forbidden fruit I have stolen you from such loneliness And alike the desire of a rouge wine I hold you with the intent of just simply sipping you. * When... (everyone turned away) Smooth strokes in the back of my head, Penetration only a few inches from my everything, Why did everyone turn away, Maybe they thought I was already vacated. This is the face I shall wear to my wake, You can wrap me in ribbons And tell everyone I was just a fake, But beneath these remains enclosed in this casket, A rose petal I did not swallow, And when you are told that I have transpired from this life I hope you reply when... Maybe when I turned away. * An Impression To know a body of reckless lines Where past impressions are unseen by eyes The tender exposure by a faultless man Renders this figure as second hand. * In Accordance With My Heart She has gone And left this space wallowing in my thoughts. And suffice to say I am in tatters But still in accordance with my heart. My love wanders aimlessly patching up those dreams And renovating time. One touch of your hand Although in a reverie And I am yours again. * Loving Sacrafice Two flames respectively eye each other The darkness shy and taunt Standing tall upon their burning effigies A fusion of light is anxiously sought. Displaying a naked dance in colours Eager to embrace the night Shadows patiently looking in Though the gloom retreats at a length. Spitting the zealous red The tongue tied executions When all is left is a wisp of smoke Finally two lovers are together.

Invisible Man

I am a man without effect. I sit on my own pedestal, but without judging. I am firm believer in treating people how I wish to be treated. I have the upmost respect for woman, in the sense that I aware that they have more than just sexual organs. I like to interface, and generally balance a partner’s personality. But taking this into review I and finding my efforts drowned. I try to also acquire friends with no hidden agenda, but I am still tiring of this one way conversation. Alike those who have asked to be added to friends lists on various chat outlets. But then I am finding I am the one plucking up to create the conversing. I am too sleepy from all this negativity. I can no longer try to be creative for the amusement of others. I am real and actually here.

I have for a long time believed that we humans are a total waste of breath. We are all caught up in our own selfish priorities that we are simply turning our backs on those who have substance.

That aside, I am finding blogging a remedy of sorts. Ok so I’ll be off now to hibernate, and if I am needed you only need to communicate. I use all my senses, even the emotional ones...

Marillion: A discovery and a salvation

For me the past few months have been temperamental. And as a result I am finding writing a real solace, hence this blog. Maybe I am trying to use it as some sort of remedy for myself, as I don’t really expect many people to take any time to read my thoughts. But for me it’s a real treat to unleash my feelings and at a later stage indulge in a little bit of my past. This got me thinking about both my past and other things that allow me to escape, music being one of them. And this is where I get to Marillion. The real reason I judge myself as having a genius taste in music.

So I have decided to just write a little piece on how I came to discover Marillion and simpley unearth a little of my past and also to set the sails to the future.....

Marillion: A discovery and a salvation.

My first encounter of marillion was not in the musical sense. I was yet to know what rock music really was. I am not sure of my age, but I was young enough to need to be in my grandparents care while my parents had some quality time together at a concert. All I remember then was that they were going to see a band that had a singer who painted his face...... need I say more.

At the tender age of around 14 or 15 I was tiring of the under zealous sounds of the charts, and had already overdosed on Guns N’ Roses. So I really needed a new stimulant. At that age my room was alike many a teenagers’ room, a mess and the walls covered in posters. I had without evening realising put up a picture of Marillion. I have no idea why as I have not even heard a breath of their genius. I think I just thought the band looked cool or something......

It was on a chance purchase of leather and lace, which is a CD compilation of rock songs, which I stumbled upon the incredible Kayleigh. I just fell in love with the lyrics and the sheer brilliance of the music. I rushed out and found the album with this song on, this being Misplaced Childhood. This set me in the right direction, and I followed on by buying more of their albums. What I would soon become aware of is that they had a new singer. This info was passed down by my parents who have for me always had a great taste in music. They let me listen to a CD single they had bought called Easter. The crazy thing was that on my first listen I was not that taken. I think I was just enthralled by Fish. But after nipping back to borrow this CD on such a regular basis that I grew to love it, and I bought Seasons end.

My first Marillion gig was in London on the Holidays In Eden tour. I just loved it. It was both my first ever concert and I would never look back. From there on I kept buying their great music and attending as many shows as I could, including some intimate fan club shows.

But for me it’s not just about finding a genre to listen to, or a band to follow. This is about actually finding something that took away the blues. When I listen to Marillion I am transported away to a place that allows me to feel like myself..... It’s in the heart. I get goose bumps. I am in a fantastic place.

To be continued.

The Rose

I would turn myself inside out for you, And drain the stem of the rose. Watching the droplets burn your lips, And form a flower upon your tongue. Everyday I would water it, With a loving saliva. It grows within you... ...the rose

Cabaret of life

I am awaiting a bombardment of future challenges, which are driven by my recent revelation.

Why do we over speculate or expect far too much from.......? Well everything.

Last night I became engaged with a war of humour. I stumbled upon a quaint little joint promising a night of entertainment. With a good friend of mine, I tucked myself up in my comfortable imagination and set myself the task of inhaling laughter. However there was one problem. The acts were atrocious, totally. But so dismal they turned out to be, I still managed to nearly wee myself with laughter. This purely given by my inability to keep a straight face when I can see someone clearly embarrassing themselves. But credit to them for having the guts to be dismal.

And I am still residing in last night’s cabaret of life. It has to be said that we really do as humans require far too much stimulant. Let’s look at the humble microwave meal. Now there is something that in reality is destined to let you down. The picture for a start is very loosely based on what we are actually going to eat. But we are totally aware of this, and still we tuck in and sit satisfied.

I need to assert myself to not expecting too much. I am so very aware of the reprucussions of doing that. Last night will stay with me. Funny or not, I had my ears and eyes canvassed, and I joined that religion. If only others had taken that rule to heart, they may not have been filled with such expectance. ..

Last one standing

If I take every positive thing that has happened to me within the last few months, it could possibly outweigh the last 8 years. You have to justify who really matters. There are those who are only trying to be there for you when it suits them, religious to the fact that they are the ones who are actually harbouring problems.

Transparency kicks in.....

I should have seen through so many people a long time ago. I nearly did, but they are somehow able to overpower you by making you feel fragile and insecure. I can stomach that from friends.... I can easily forget them. But from someone even closer? I am now carful how much I feed a person. I am not referring to exspenvie meals, which are actually part of the problem. I mean in the simplest form. Being real to that person and seeing them for who they are......

I have sold my shrapnel and moved onto the next level. I just wish I could wash myself clean. I feel abused, used and taken advantage of.

But I will be the last one standing..... why? Because I value what’s actually important. Not what you get out of it. It’s what you actually put in, and it was.....

.....Nothing.

Waiting for something to happen!

Today I am feeling a little sunken again. Last night listened to a song called Fantastic place, and I actually had to beg myself to evaporate the tears that could have fell from my tired eyes. I am so afraid of memories. Even the good ones are causing me to reject dreaming and the occasional sleeping.

How long will this urgency to find a solution last. Will I just give up breath? I have never tried to hijack anyone’s feelings, unless they grant me access. I surround myself with my music, and my insecurities. I am at least finding solace in reading and escaping into a paper wonderland.

All this...... and I am only just trying to be myself.

The lesser Genius

On a whim i'd have to say i have a somewhat unique quality about me. Although many will disagree. Maybe not at face value, but neatly tucked up inside, exploding at unforgiveable times. I feel as though my attire is wearing thin and my inner is becoming an outer. I find myself following the flock and then wanting to remain forlorn. If being me is so fucking hard. How tedious must trying to fake at it really be. I'll be proud for my inability to blend. For temper tantrums and insecurities. I won't die trying. I'll die having been.

With Music In Mind

I wrote to you a beautiful noteA recital made of love. Alike a maestro baring his soul I gave you mine in return. A hymn made up of delicate thought With a chorus so divine. Your symphony awaits you with such applause That I'm sure your heart can't deny. A Harmonious beat that never expires Transcends from paper and ink. While reading my piece of musical ode I'll captivate your ears as well. With strings like feathers and fluid flutes Balancing in mid air. Chimes of laughter that never render An operetta just for you. The director of life or philosopher of passion Dictates with precision in mind. And once your eyes have left the page This virtuoso would have done his work.

The Hearts Infrastructure

When you are the one who has chosen to dismantle the foundations and remove the building blocks, then understand you are out of range when stating, that's it you who needs to rebuild. Reboot maybe, But not rebuild. When two children play casually with Lego and one is brandishing a large amount of discomfort, and may feel encouraged the destroy the others prized sculpture of Lego pieces. If this is the case, should then the one with their assemble intact(Although this may be only to the common eye, and therefore I am unable to establish this to be correct) feel the need to say they need to go and rebuild.

Firstly their are the perplex blocks. The ones that have been insulted. Why should a man be made to feel that his vocation should be of embarrassment. I work to live. I don't work to fit in or to surrender my pride. I would rather be a pauper and be loved than a millionaire without heart.

Next there are the fabrication blocks. These are eliminated when you are made to believe that you have a purpose, only to then realise that you have been duped.

Then you are left with the lamenting blocks. These are the hardest to replace, and are the nuts and bolts.
Why should you be left to feel as though mourning something that should have held
Substance for both parties be written off.

But then again in review of what you may have learnt from this torment. Maybe this person
should start to rebuild. Obviously at some point the groundwork had started to splinter.
And you got the repercussions....

Morning Song

Incomplete shards of light
Transpire when the the dark divides
Butterfly flakes of dust
Cloak the dusk just before the dawn.

Musical notes sounding night
Reflecting chimes that cease when bright
An harmonious chord ending fate
The morning sings with glittered breath.

When In A Reverie

I tripped into a certain mood Encouraged by only you Fallopian branches reaching out And watering the darkness bright. Cellophane flowers generate heat Supplementing colour and variety Interconnecting shards of silken fine Delicately suspended between branch and time. A fungi canvas carpets the soil Nurturing the undergrowth with inspiration The anticipated balance of happiness Was born beneath a cloudless sky.

Weeping Candle

Weeping Candle

I stare... In a Fragile Pose I separated you... With swimming eyes So why cant I... Put you back together?