Mint Condition – a poem

Hide, hide it all away, for expression

Is no more than the death of truth

And the nature of man; or so we have

Been told, moulded at ages younger

Than we care to think back to.


Be yourself at dire risk of being

Understood, your anger, wonder, hate,

All are subsumed by that horror hateful

Which seeks to make us into toy dolls

Fit for no more than being show

Items in appalling condition, wasted.



21st Century Gods – a poem

If our beliefs form

The deities of our age

Then our gods are jealous

Gods, much like yours.

Gods oft found dead,

Electric demipowers slumped

And limp in forgotten booths

Where once were made calls to relatives.


Those figureheads of monetary missions

Linger in crevices we barely consider,

A lack of light breeds them in dark

And makes Mammon hailed by many.


Ephemeral communication forms

Are perpetuated by instant gratification,

Likes and dislikes, pictures of newness

Spread about as crops wither and die.


Everyone wants to be a snowflake,

To seek the meaning in indigo

Over-saturation of the self lost

Amidst the drive and dream of all.


Your god is a jealous god

And makes me no money,

He is poor, inadequate & uncharging

And there goes the electricity.

Landscape of Pain – a poetic excerpt

Landscape of Pain – a poetic excerpt


Nuances, layers, leylines,

Pain the beginning, the end,

Experience all underlaid

With tingles, stabs, shots.


Coexistent with all memories,

Alpha and omega, ridealong map

Of all knowledge, price tags

Attached to every physical unfolding.


A supermarket extravaganza

Of life, each and every movement

With a price tag attached

For the painful consequence.


What lies beneath the surface

Can barely be expressed

For what it does, inexorable

And forever enduring, eternal…


A series of gentle stabs penetrate

The kneecap, travel into the hip,

Muscles in the thigh spasm gently,

Aches flare, fade, and flare again.


Spreading out, unfolding, it eats

Deep into the pectoral, down, down

And growing sharp, stabs, nerve fire

Lancing down the arm, alive.


Layers of pain so complex they are

A landscape of pulses, signals,

Sensory information bright as any

Nuclear station circuit control board…


The jaw grinds on both sides, the right

Alive with agony, clear delineation

Of a few upper teeth sparking, nerves

Apparently raw, open, being tugged.


Throb throb throb*


Upward the line traces further,

From the jaw into the sinus,

Crackling, a muscle flutters incessant

Within the ear, jaw held tight in defence.


Up, up, up, behind the eye, so far
It has traveled, enduring all the way,

Felt and pulsing along the entire path

It took to get to the face, to be alive.


Behind the eye, into the head,

Encompassing the crown, alighting

Tingles in the scalp, waveform

With purpose, an entire side blazing.


It is a living thing, an entity in itself,

A parasite, one that knows to kill

The host is to die, and yet…

What would I give…to be free?

What we Call Humanity – a prose poem

I feel myself

Cut loose,

From the throng,

A wanderer solitary.

I find myself

Cast adrift,

Bobbing on strange seas,

Black sky burning.

Cut loose,

Cast adrift,

Tethered by only the most

Essential qualifications

Of humanity, or what is

Called as such by many.

I am floating far beyond

The pale and timid morality

That binds, one person to another;

A road long travelled

Is no easier to swim than walk.

In a dream I saw a man

Cast from the shore, bound

In chains of iron, wrapped like

Houdini or another magician,

Struggling to get free

As bubbles rose with screams

Of horror trapped within,

Released onto the surface

Of the lake calm despite what sinks

Deep below its still surface.

Thrashing, clanking, wrenching at iron,

I watched him struggle in his chains,

Wondering why I did not help

Then realising twas my reflection

As I looked up to the lake surface

From below, already too deep.


The above is a description that I’ve been thinking of for quite some time, in particular the image of watching myself drowning while wrapped in chains. Given my recent health problems I feel it is quite apt. All that I write is cathartic, so do not fear. I’m not about to jump into a lake wrapped in iron chains. 🙂 Thanks for reading!