anonymous encounters failing the lonely-man
standing by himself in a public toilet
he stands there for twenty minutes
doors remain locked
like his tangled beard
wrapped up tightly
his patchy woolen jacket
whispered on the threshold
and determined by cruelty of fate
and the collateral damage of individuality
i thought I heard their voices
but it was only their laughter
I thought I could make some sense
but it was only their rules
the vile sight of fresh-faced supermarket security guards
laying down the law to an elderly homeless man
pockets full on an empty stomach
the feeling returns
and the cruel nature of nature
has lost again with the ease of wasted time
this time it’s by our own doing
life itself up against the law
a ride home for free
what do I even have in my pockets?
the of fear wasting time
can’t shrug the stains of monotony
finally reaching the end of time
we embrace like pure-beings
mingling spirits floating down a stream
neither dead or alive
and not caring either way
something has been mutually accepted here
as they curl up to die together -
waking up alive all over again
but at least they’re keeping each other warm
mother nature is on her knees
begging for mercy with smokey tears
and im on mine for forgiveness
we bump into one another
on the same course through the smoke and wind
direct to the ultimate catastrophe
one last bang and we’re gone
dazed, drifting and naked
a disintegration faster than reflex
an unknown cause of death
an unknown reason to live
and our lives nevertheless
an invisible push that pushes
until the realisation when we're
buying food
talking to people
asleep on trains
walking through city parks
drinking with friends
and all those moments spent alone
that we keep to ourselves
- that's beauty
and if you call yourself a god
well - you need some time alone
a fascination, floating dust particles, and the spider-web
theres no blame behind the natural high
god spends his time alone
god is a loner
the fields are empty, but always covered in mist
my freedom melts the frosts
running like a living being
sometime the sky looks bigger than what it actually is
but it's nothing
sky doesn't really exist
my feeling of meaninglessness
and the stretching expanding space
empty laughter echos and weaves through the tall mossy trees
sunslight - some kind of sunlight
perice this beautiful world
some kind of daily recollection
it's alright
the morning dew is most prevalent on his unshaven face
a twitch, and he is awake
like his tangled beard
wrapped up tightly
his patchy woolen jacket
is warm today
whispered on the threshold
of not caring either way
if god is a loner, then so is he
and so am i
and she's my best friend
tomorrow - just another best and worst of somebody's life
sirens wailing in the background of a half-hearted birthday-wish
somebody's birthday
somebody dies
the rest of shrug our shoulders
and wonder how long it is before we can go home
people are those people who we dont know
it's a never ending scurm of life
never ending until we find a dead-end
love keeps a functioning-alcoholic alive
it's up to them whether they live or die
if they die i drink to them
i walk the lonely streets at night for them
i walk the parks with the possums as the moonlight find the rain
if the don't, i pass them some change
but at the very least - i see them as teenagers
i see them in my shoes
and i dont blame them
the vile sight of fresh-faced supermarket security guards
laying down the law to an elderly homeless man
·
No comments:
Post a Comment