Whilst I'm working on more, and all of the other crap I have to wade through, please enjoy this pile of rubbish.


#27


My flesh may tear,
It may be scarred.
My bones may break,
Break into shards.
My skin may sizzle,
In a fire so great.
My lungs may fill
With water from a lake.
My soul tortured
In the depths of hell.
But I have a pain much worse –
No one can tell.

Home Comforts

Trying real hard to work through everything that's going on right now. Each and every one of us has our own way of dealing with the stress: games, food, drugs (and don't think caffeine and alcohol aren't included here); but at what cost does it come? How about a poem to express how I feel after my comfort..........

#45

Paranoid sensitivity
At its finest;
In a list
With those unwanted.
Little to no dignity,
Just a modicum of trust.
Tunnel vision’s a must.

Quickened anxiety.
It’s impending,
Pursuing humming;
A grinding machine!
Spitting out your comfort,
Leaving you with what?
Usually squat.

A lonesome down
Is never amiss
But who really needs this?
Fuck it........

Ramblings of a Young Man

Just checking out some of my oldies, going through my book, my notes, the death notes I wrote in my own blood........anyway, I managed to pop this one out quickly in reflection of this.

The fuck I just read?
All this talk of girls,
Obsession and possession.
Not one thought
That isn't destructive
What on Earth was I thinking?
Clearly irrelevant.

Where Has the Time Gone?!

Last year of Uni, get crazy with my band, co-hosting a radio show, and having a new girl in my life has restricted my time to an incredible degree. Many minutes, hours, days and weeks have been lost, and no longer did I have time for my writing. But fuck it! Lets have another crack at it anyway.

Lately my words have been rusty, all my lines and stanzas have lost their rhythm (that rhythm being transferred to the skins and cymbals of my drum kit), so here's hoping I haven't lost it. That's if I had it in the first place. I still have a few in the backlog, so I will publish them soon. But firstly, I shall leave my latest skid-mark on the literary world right here for you all to see. Enjoy!

Seaside overcast

Winters gloom

Sirens

Of impending doom

Hyperbole?

Maybe

Sincerity?

Likely

For my mind’s

Weaker

But my heart’s

Still a seeker

But seeking what?

Light, of course

Resembling?

Hopefully.......Hope


You can contact me through this email address: portaltopoetry@gmail.com, drop me any questions, give me some feedback, share your ramblings with me. Do whatever you like, I possibly couldn't care less.