ACT XXI

I
A fox going in and out of my feet,
the children on the street,
Dancing to their own beat,
I thought I knew what I was looking for
But maybe I don’t know, at least not anymore .

Those attached terrace houses,
The shady brick work,
You know the kind –
That might make you wanna move,
Move somewhere down south,
Where all the brick work is fine.

II
I knew our eyes felt something more than intimate from their brief encounter,
across the hazed floor. If I could only speak what I wanted.

I wouldn’t have to rely on that.

III
As I look upon these smudged canvas skies,
Watching them turn from azure blue to the welcoming monochrome,
I cant help but think; there has to to be something greater than –
The energy viaducts which suck the life from the earth –
The unlimited, ultimate TV and data packages.
Its hard to believe that people would rather stop to look at their phones –
then to look the world pass them by.
Trapped within their realm of fake reality – personal totalitarianism.

SIDE NOTE:
I have recently been quite busy. I am looking toward working with musicians and kick-starting my own solo poetry songwriting career, when I’ve finished my setlist. I’m currently focusing on my writing and poetry, though I’ve not much new work which I feel needs to be uploaded straight to my website. (as of the minute) Therefore taking a little break (with sporadic intervals of uploads) and will begin uploading work, when I have heard back from various poetry sites/magazines which, I have submitted work to. Hopefully, if all goes well, you will see the poetry I have sent in through their sites/magazines. IF NOT, I will be uploading them myself, as soon as I have results.

©HT

ACT XV

I
Waiting for the alarm clock,
To wake me from a sleepless night.
Untouched gravel outside,
Awaiting the restless feet of the passerby.
Where are you – when I’m waiting?

II
I don’t know who I am –
I don’t know what I am for
But these unknown pleasures –
these unknown thoughts want more.
And I’m not too sure –
I’m what they’re looking for.

My windowsill is black –
My life could just be a gas –
All I see –
And All I do don’t satisfy.
Are these thoughts I’m feeling –
Part of I.

The echo voices are near –
From somewhere close to here
But these unknown pleasures –
These unknown thoughts they aren’t mine.
And I’m not too sure –
What keeps me up at night.

Unknown pleasures,
This unknown world,
Those unknown thoughts –
Which nobody knows.
These unknown pleasure,
These unknown thoughts are mine.

III
We shared a kiss upon 
A slip stream of bliss.
I’m sure everybody’s heard of this 
You caught me in-between all your wit.

You got me so high
How’d you expect me to climb back down.
I’m sure I am able to cope
Without you your soul around.

In that back catalogue
Of this sunny afternoon.
I’m having to get lit
To remain in the mood.

And, Isn’t it funny what we’ll do
Just to bite one another lips.
To the sound of somebody else’s tune.

© HT

ACT IV-II

I have reoccupied the morning. After a few hours resting the ye olde eyes –
I. Have. Awoken. Shamefully but gracefully. I have woke to a reel of past memories performing a skipping segment of each of their tricks. Of which I try to escape but to no luck – my mind is already captivated and held ransom by you again.
I try understand how another person can take your bastard mind hostage for what could possibly be an eternity and an eternity, of which, I cannot afford to pay.

But, on a side note: If one could gaze upon your shades and hear your voice split the frequencies, I would.

I
I relive heartbreak day in-and out.
I think about your hair, and the kisses –
You gave me.

I think about your hand running along my back.
And the laugh I helped produce –
And soon as I see happiness,
As soon I experience it –
I realise everything I’ve lost about you.

And it’s been that way for years now,
But that just doesn’t change the way I feel.
One makes mistakes, and yes, I made a few.
But no matter how many people I have,

There’s only ever going to be you.

II
For in this life time I have failed you but in the next I won’t give it half a chance.

One thing time has allowed me to realise is who the fuck cares for anything else.

©HT