Time

Maze of tiny golden grains
Sand of aged wizards and these
Merlin-concepts of wishes
Repeated and lost
Repeated and lost in swelling
Magnificent undulations of thirsty history
Hungering always forever for
The next moment- or last
Until spun out into milky-way
Nothingness
Space of supreme stillness
World of no time- not left
Nor to come, just peace always
Elusive chrysalis of self, rare
Locked inside for the time when
One is only time.


Music- Florence And The Machine- Cosmic Love


xxx

Je Ne Parle Pas Francais

From burning train tracks framed molten in rustic rusting glory
To oracular globes of sweat, glassy in claustrophobic Parisian rooms,
I come to an edge new and real, am reborn groin first into
Relief, which even in this heart-wilderness is pure potent pleasure-love
And the acrid smell of raw humanity heavy in air, the sex of lungs.
These premonitions of failure- apocalytpic nonchalance bringing us
Down again to cling to wrought-iron balconies, dizzyling high over
Screaming mopeds in throbbing veins of city backstreets, pendulous over
Fathomless depths of red debate.

This fleshy fragility masked in pools of smoke which faintly warm
Latuin Quarter bars ceaselessly visited by strangers who leak in and out
Of our lives, like the wine through the cracks in our crusted lips
And collapsed smiles, finding forever to play the struggling artist,
Disgustingly in our game of affluence and amateur politics.

The body, the mind, is all of these things and yet none;
Lost in lonely singular peak, one moment in the prairies of time and
This hope you search for endlessly in my futureless eyes.



Music- Inna- Hot

xxx

London In A June That Feels Like July

90s music and 90s culture.
Finding someone with a prescription and no morality.
East end towerblocks dissapearing into blisteringly blue skies and the heat haze.
West end life.
Reckless acquisition of responsibility.
Smoking with the best of friends.
Nostalgia for the Heath, secret alley ways of impossibily good ice-cream and old world bookshops.
Student poverty.
Picnics of fresh bread and French wine.
Longing for the freedom of driving through the streets of Hackney.
Missing friends who gave you the best of times.
Frustrated arguments on suffocating sunny days.
Frivolous make-up sex.
Desperate youth.
Self-acceptance in girlish beauty.
Brave hair and cowardly desires.
Finding welcome in unexpected places.
Secret crushes.
House hunting and money making.
Expanding one's intelligence through intellectual interests.

From the couch to the counters in my kitchen.

This will be a summer of exploration and excess. I intend to take full advantage of my youth.

Let the games begin. I endeavour to win.

Why do I feel so destructive?

Music- Sneaker Pimps- Spin, Spin Sugar

xxx

Your Sex

Those hands, powerful and mighty and yours,
Bound emasculated wept in knotted silk duress
Long to reach out, clasp and claim the dream
Of those smooth white lines, hairless and supposedly
Beautiful. But you are caught, forever seperate from
Exquisite agony.

I wish for you to revel in violent laughter
Sexual and mine, so we will get high from each other
Intensity magnified like burning light spot under the glass
Burning so hot that the world is melting and
I am tiptoeing on molten desire.

Maybe we are a little love a little lust and a little lost
But caution doesn't care when scalding soft skin
Is under rosy red fingertips, finding you there and
Ballerina lips playing note after note after note to wring
From deep inside the core of you that chord of joy
That rumbles from the centre of being which is so private so yours,
Where not even I can go.

With a kind of gentle resentment I loathe this
Sex of yours, your sex always that I cannot join
In blinding intimate pleasure- the beast that steals you
From me heart and soul. This is what I am after, what I claw for
Yet can never reach, ruined in halted moment of cliff top climax,
Hated in silent brutal fear of disappointment.



Music- Bon Iver- For Emma.

xxx

Laziness

The slow stagnant movements in bed bog and
Deliberate tongue twisters procrastinate
Our many imaginary illusioned chores
Limp limbs heavy in unwashed filth
Sweat- slightly alcoholic and lazily vitriolic
- And the smell of old cake wrapped in
Belligerent blankets and a yawning mind,
It all seems insurmountably inefficient effort.
If only we were to draw draw draaaw up
The blinds; around midday it would be
Stupendously sunny outside and maybe
We would feel like going to the Heath.



Music- None.

xxx

I

Glowing growing haze like the life-blood
Beauty of fireflies burning explicitly gentle,
Knotted in gold wonder to lanterns of fragile paper,
Crimson in magenta god.

Then flying wave after wave after wave
Down brick brackish roads so earthy in
Warmed Spanish stone, burnt by sun-orb
-Out into antithesis of night insects
Internal in other world fragility. The

True truth

Free so lamentably free to find
Morbid white demise.
Gone, to forever be life.



Music- None.

xxx

Music and Photography

I like music that is exquisitely painful; music that is nostalgia, love, loneliness, and the heart of the traveller. I like photography from instant cameras, the kind which document the sunshine days with their cracks and their flaws- perfect moments that are truly, awfully, unbearable because they will never again occur.

And, most of all, I want to wander in these places of the heart and the mind- to have chords and the strum of a guitar embedded in my soul, to have film and still images forever blue-tacked to a crumbling white wall. I want to have these moments of my life so that when I am old and wrinkly and wish to die, I can look at them and remember how absolutely I felt alive.

Music- Third Eye Blind- Motorcycle Drive By

xxx

Mortality Irreconcilable

Now: a singular moment of torturous agony strung across
Galactic time in web of tiny sparkling phosphorus gems
Nostalgic present chasing love and climactic happiness
Through smoke confusing clarity as sharp as knife stroke
And the blood-wine droplets from severed inner eye
We will not regret this gasping ecstasy of youth and
All the mistakes left rotting under bleeding fingernails crying
After odd hands which run forever to the horizon and the shifting
Sands pushing ever forwards to grey decay and botox bills
Unreal delicate years filled with soft skin thick lips wild eyes
As we try to capture exquisitely painful lash-flickers of
Beauty in bell jars of infinity and excessive living
Each moment a bubble filled to burst in aching upward
Expanse until it is smashed, shattered-
We are no more.



Music- Third Eye Blind- I Want You

xxx

Eroticism

Clinical imagination dreaming up a laboratory
Of infatuation an obsession with magnification
Bodily specimen of genetical humanity and
Androgyny on microscopic magic stratum
Sweat in beady billions from minute craters
Salty foreign lakes on moon-scape of skin
Corporeal contours to charter under lips and
Tiny finger tips, instruments to record and
Memorize the pattern of these thighs calculating
Down to a decimal point impeccable yesterday's
Disposophobic ecstasy.



Music- Foals- NEW ALBUM AMAZINGNESS! :)

xxx

Euston Square: Part II

And it was the strangest thing, a virgin bloom dewy and
Dangerous with new life, found in favourite footsteps on Hampstead Heath
A depth of unanswered infinity in something known so well
Sudden contours of difference and possibility aching burning to
Soft touch tentative in majestic noble childlike terror.

This yearning silence gently broken with drops of maybe-love
Hope in honest eyes and words that for once can be said in
Great blinding freedom, truth in how we felt and how we kissed
So distant from early hours and early days in Bloomsbury university rooms
This time so close, I was full of delicate precious smallness in your arms.

Now a beating drum, shared heartbeat of a pebble dropped in perfect placid
Lake forming ripples that change this calm world unalterably
Dissolving mirrored surface to fathomless deep, an accident neither
Was prepared for in endless exciting city drinking, these night-streets
And smiles no practice for transcendant wishes for your soul.

Today, the sky expands brilliantly azure reminding of the
Promise of youth, of more than skin under our whirlpooled fingers
A fragile solid happiness growing rising on beating wings to reach the heat
Of summer sun, pure white enchantment that we have succumed to,
Finally, in this London of ancient mortar new bricks forever home.



Music- Massive Attack- Dissolved Girl

xxx

Happiness

Sometimes what seems wrong because it's too scary is actually the easiest thing of all. Sometimes things fit, and honesty just works.

Music- Norah Jones- Come Away With Me

xxx

Confusions and Complexities

So, it's been a while since I have written in any kind of prose style. Poetry has been a bit overwhelming in terms of my creative direction.

For me, emotions are things to be felt, acknowledged, and then guided- kept in a certain amount of check. People who are over-emotional, or excessively passionate, annoy me. I enjoy rationality, calmness and logic in my life. Now, this isn't to say that I am a cold-hearted, unfeeling bitch. Not by any means. I do have emotions- happiness, sadness, anger, love- I just know when they are irrational, and I always try to maintain a degree of perspective, where my feelings are in balance with what is causing them.

However, recently I have entered a world where this is not the case. Things are complex, and I can't unravel the maze in my head. And I hate it. I want my romantic life to be straight-forward, I want people to say things when they mean it, and tell me when they don't. The thing is, my love entanglements are never, ever like that. I seem to choose partners who are either emotionally immature, emotionally out of control, or emotionally malicious. As the common theme to all my past relationships and flings is me, it begs the question; what is it exactly that I am doing so wrong? I doubt it's a subconcious masochistic desire.

And, oh my god- I can't help it, I would do anything to stop it; I think I'm falling in love with the wrong man. There's no one I can tell.

I want you so bad, I'll go back on the things I believe
There I just said it, I'm scared you'll forget about me

Music- John Mayer- Edge of Desire.

xxx

Silence

You lent me this borrowed beautiful boldness
With needed caresses exploring acres of skin
Still somehow I intended spite for words unsaid
So they loved me and took me home for feasts of
Laughter but those late hours brought something new
Like longing, an irretrievable instant of no return
A point of gradual collision, crash of blinding glass
Embedded in cardiac moments.

Then you crept up like gentle kisses along my spine
With skinny love of my bones, and you could
Always do it better until there is now now now
Nothing but silence, damning silence. And I don't know
Whether it is my body or my mind that is empty
Without you.



Music- Some fucker mowing the lawn far too loudly outside my window.

xxx

I Dare You

They fall to earth on a fantasy of certain chemical boldness
The taste of lips wet with vodka and surprise
And those soft white hips curving with the gravity of
Fairy footsteps as she steps on guitar strings of sound
Pleasure gratified in the dirt under his nails
Her body full of inexplicable newness she could
Almost be a child and this is not the first praying
That it will not be the last time she glides over his
Dark eyes hot and deep peeling off layers of soul
Stripped to burning muscles burning flesh burning heart
It has been so long and it will be so good when he is inside
Tight skin parted over firm waist her breath on
His neck like pure potent knife thrust and down she rides
As a voice reminds this is suicide.


Music- Edwyn Collins- A Girl Like You

xxx

Euston Square

These are the hours of beauty, days hovering
Floating suspended in the twilight of new Spring
A tiny moment, life-breath caught in the throat
Of time between fickle frosts of Winter and
An endless, expandable French Summer promising
The future in freedom.

Deep sky of plunging blue enticing watering mouth
To drink of this and the blinding white-yellow sun
Glinting in lovely deceptive coolness from
Bold Georgian stone in Euston Square, where
Our tangled haze of smoke and silly laughter gives
Accidental happiness in friendship and substance abuse.

You showed me joy and how to carve this city
For our own night-time adventures, exhaling condensing
Hope into icy air that sparkles from determined youth
And the animated brilliance of your infectious optimism
Carrying me helpless and smiling, like a balloon freed
From a child's sticky hand, to the best years of life.

If only to be static, to extend frozen the glorious moment
In a plateau of ungovernable now, this world of
Late evening black cabs speeding confidently past
Grey pavement concrete and awake in thrill of urban
Passion and pace, to capture magnificent fleeting seconds
And all the fun we have had.



Music- Pendulum- Different.

xxx

We Are Old Tomorrow

Lying in frozen darkness we join
A bleak full mind far from broad hands
On body of smooth skin my porcelain skull
Pressed desperately with you to solid chest
Hard reassurance of flesh for music which
Floats inside building rising in fear of truth
Our unfathomable refusal of discovery in
Compressed youth bursting through from
Our paper glasses, half-empty with drugs
For the mind and new born heart.

We are tottering on bambi legs wide
Eyed and panting with tentative violent
Sexual frustration hot kisses in cold so cold
Night. Whirlpool eyes and fast drunken veins
Betray how for now we must feel truly alive
Your visceral wet mouth singularly real
In this universe of impenetrable movement
And shifting castles high in darkest sky clinging
Together in momentary ageless failed beauty
Where success is a forgotten word.

Deep within melting time we stave off
The fear of the end and the thought
Terrifyingly inevitable which will come
Like us, our breath
Condensing on concrete life.


Music- IAMX- Lolita

xxx

Dark Poem

It always hurts with desolate thoughts
In the unwanted hours.
1:27 and rain on pain of glass
That patters gently on untimely despair
You think that I am fine like you
In this pregnant psychosis, but I am not cold
Like the frosted night solidifying exactitude of
1:30 time when you are not mine,
Just angry and a little bitter
Cruelty cares less if you are not
Beside me curled and warm
So that I am safe in enveloping you-ness.
1:33 and I am cross with foul loss
This broken mood passes with rising light
Love confusing truth with me as it
Slips from my mind and nothing is
Remembered but the mask of
Sleep.



Music- None.

xxx

Poetry Of A Bad Week

Death Day

There was cruel unorthodox hope
In bright brilliant sunshine
Incongruent, at war,
With your strong sadness
Beating at the too-early Spring
Imperfect memories of a human
Who you loved all the same
I gave chicken broth and
Felt like a failure even though
It was enough, simply
Not beautiful happiness.
Funeral day was cold
Pure snow and dead fields of empty life
Turned to rain slush smoke
On fragile breath meeting air
Three red flowers, daisies,
For all your bravery.
A struggling catharsis because
These words won’t work and my heart
Is breaking.

Baise-Moi

Mine are the frail soft dreams lost inside
Wasted on desolate indignant rage
Full to brim of endless white pain of
Abstract and ungraspable missing you
Stuck silent within my shell of sex
Pale female curves sumptuous and greedy
Fed by framework of bones teeth lips
And tears from demoniacal green lagoons
Desiring to breed bulging impotent envy
From clownish mouth that screams in darkness
To eat from cup of flesh as we fuck our fears away
Fingers of exquisite violence deeply barely
Touching though of course you never did
Make me come to you through pounding
Rhythms of undesigned and accidental lies
Leaving unsatisfied minds utterly alone in
Ruined ugly perfect dignity surrendered at
Failure of you to say anything at all but absolutely
Nothing which was the secret shy image of
A private scared soul forever not mine to reach
Afraid of- what?


Music- Kings Of Leon- Charmer

xxx

A Little Pain And Resentment

These are the moments when we discover who is most precious.

I have rarely felt more loved than now; when you have ripped the last bit of dignity from me, they will be there to pick up the pieces of my rage, and console my tears with Haagen-Daaz and promises of hazy nights. You will not effect me so deeply, for I am as strong as our collective force, which is more than the care you failed to give.

I will buy myself some taxidermy in the form of miniature antlers from The Last Tuesday Society Shop in order to cheer myself up. And maybe another piercing.

Music- Erik Satie- Gnossienne No1

xxx

Tough Times

There's that famous old adage that bad things come in threes. Well, it seems that at the moment I'm having a bit of a run of hard luck. It has really been one of those weeks when everything just seems to get on top of you. Firstly, my laptop has utterly fucked itself; it barely turns on, and when it does it just freezes and refuses to even shut down when you so much as try to open a programme. I now have to take it to a repair shop and pay God knows how much to get it fixed. That's £200 I really don't have to spare- £200 which means that I now won't be going to Paris in February, as I had hoped I might be able to. Secondly, I was really looking forward to seeing A this evening, before she heads back up to Nottingham for the semester. But due to unforeseen circumstances for which she is not to blame, it's likely that she won't be coming at all. Thirdly, and most importantly, which isn't bad luck at all but a huge issue, is K.

I'm trying so hard, but it is truly difficult. I am not going to leave- I refuse to just walk away when he needs me. But it's just terrible because he will not admit it, he will not let me in. And there comes a point at which he is going to drag me down with him, and as selfish and as cold as this sounds, I have to think of myself first. I am not going back to those darker days, and I am certainly not having a repeat of J. P is helping me so much on this issue, and I am truly grateful to her, but my head is such a whirl, and I can feel myself disappearing into my own mind again. There are so many things in my head. I have to organise my life some how. Last weekend showed that I definitely don't want to leave him. I just have to learn not to take it all to heart, that it's not him, simply this thing that shrouds his real personality. The hardest thing is the erratic nature of it all. There are tiny improvements, and then huge steps back. No, the hardest thing is not being kissed by someone I truly care about. I am afraid we will lapse into friendship, and only that.

Music- Silence; I am at the library due to laptop retardation.

xxx

Poetry

Druid Tree

Magnificent. Barren
It had come crashing, breaking the air
With dead branches splayed on forest floor
Limbs to crack musty wormed earth with sound
Only resonant now to silence and peeling bark
Yet it was here, waiting
Looming from gloom like a thing of wonder
Waiting, for us.

We crawled unsteady across thick strong arm, safe
To dangle laced boots above shallow glass
With icy pebbles gurgling hidden under meek water
We dreamt of druids in waning russet-blue sky
Pale with whispers of vanished people
Ancient deep barbarous wisdom, so lost and terrible and raw,
Made me think of the power of this moment
Of you of love, although I did not say.

Time to capture stilled moments for forever, for it was
Beautiful, so beautiful in half-light half-knowledge of
This silent emotion that stuffed crisp cold air
With tentative baby steps until our fingers entwined
And you said that now would bring you happiness in sadness
I was mute with trembling unsure truth
So I said Forever, despite impossible infinity that neither
You nor I believe in.

And we stayed,
Even though I was scared of gentle darkness
Cigarette-breath rising ethereal grey from lips
That tasted of smoke in lungs, mine, and
Bittersweet passion that rose, ghostly, like
Those old mystics in
The fear of all the things I wanted to do to
You.


Music- Placebo- Meds

xxx

25 Things

Stolen from G.

1. I value love (romantic and platonic) more than I let on, but bonds are severed easily. I'm not going to waste my time.
2. I really love food.
3. I fear ugliness in myself, but crave imperfection in others. I find perfection uninteresting.
4. I've found a surprising catharsis in writing poetry.
5. University is probably the best thing I've done with my life so far.
6. I'm ambitious, but not determined.
7. It's easier not to care for people, but the people for whom I do can count on my loyalty.
8. I like to be held close, but not by just anyone.
9. Of all my body parts, I prefer my legs and my hair.
10. I dislike my face.
11. I think my tattoo is sexy, and most definitely want more.
12. I love writing, but the mood has to strike me or I churn out rubbish.
13. I wish I was more talented musically.
14. I've ignored the advice of doctors and I don't regret it.
15. I would like not to be held back by so many inhibitions.
16. I resent stupid people and children.
17. I have had many flings, four relationships, and have loved twice; both times have been unconventional, and once unrequited.
18. My sexuality is an important part of me, but I don't feel that it makes me who I am. I don't feel the need to broadcast it to the nation.
19. I find security and sense in rationality, and am annoyed by public over-emotional displays.
20. I am creative and like to avoid the social norm.
21. I like to find people with interesting minds.
22. Mistakes are different from regrets- I have many of the former and endeavour to have few of the latter.
23. Even so, there are certain things which are unforgivable, and I will make sure to tell you so.
24. I believe revenge can be quite satisfying.
25. I drink like a Russian, and party like a fool, but its nice to balance this with culture and things that actually benefit my life.

Music- Flaw- Payback

xxx

Even More Poetry

Alice Down the Rabbit Hole

That old thing
It knows you and you know it
It has become the glove that fits
Even if the hand fights back with
Cruel desperate gnarled attack
Of the old oak in dying frozen season
Wise hollow haggard old bitch- you're a hack
My dear, once again you have lost your track

Of mind
Teetering on blind brink a pendulum
Until the plunge--- Alice down the rabbit hole
Tumbling twirling snatching
Her orgiastic abandonment of falling
But you can't get back
To the tiny flickering light-hope
Fading inexpressably far from swollen laziness
It is Juliet's tomb of Romeo's corpse
Soft sensual decay welcoming nihlistic tragedy
Hamlet's lost his mirth for all the world's a stage
Deep sadness, deeper than the rolling
Indigo fear of deepest ocean. Unquenchable
Savage savage savage despair

That old thing
You know it and it knows you
Like the bits of self not quite new
Stitched in vague contempt of all your
Vain pathetic failed attempts
To make a skin from dying frozen reason
Still hollow haggard old bitch- you're exempt
From soul, dear- Lecter's patchwork masterpiece...


Music- Not quite silence

xxx

More Poetry

Winter

Something real was the intention
I refused to kneel before the altar
Of fairytale and fantasy. Get a grip
I said to make it seem more visceral
Instead of a half-baked scheme broken
Like the cracked and cold lips which
Never spoke the words I want you
To choke. This sticky gloom of underwater
Swimming that is truly drowning echoes
That silent cry why won't you talk
To me of violent thoughts in your
Childlike head. For you have every right
To believe that innocence doesn't exist
And leave nothing inside except frightened
Dreams of a decrepid mind. But you are wrong
If not in hope in beauty as you struggle
To cope the frost chills the breath to
Perfection like pure crystalline love
Glittering in the half-light- so exquisite
Until the twilight of life is remembered.
It seems so unfair.

Music- Ellie Goulding- Starry Eyed

xxx