The spiders’ web obscures my vision

A patterned obstacle

Droplets of water decorate the arachnids

dining table.

I can see shrubbery beyond the reflective embellishment

But it is too far out of reach.

A broken picture scuffed with age.

Stomachache.

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Side Effects

My skin is infested 

sucker marks on pale skin

I detest it

portraits of original sin

 

Scarring redness

peaceful translucent 

mindfulness a mess

living feels lucid

 

Purged of positivity 

Heavy with thought 

Misplaced creativity 

I begin to rot

 

From the inside

I need rest

Sorry I haven’t replied

but you’ve been suppressed 

 

Radiant smile

inconsolable heart

eyes hostile 

I can’t tell them apart

 

Muddled spirit 

feeling astray

nightmares vivid

when is the next ‘good-day’

 

Where I laugh

and feel human 

but only for the first half

the darkness is always looming

Where Do I Belong?

I will lie in my city bed

Wishing for my melancholy home

Sleeping in lights

Murdered by homesickness syndrome

 

I dream about being missed

Or of the old crooked tree

I just want to be kissed

By the homelike smell of the sea

 

Cuddled by home

And suffocated by love

Yet I feel so alone

I am the spy they want to get rid of

 

My childhood sings in the air

Memories stick to the leaves

In this spot, people seem to care

About what the other believes

 

This place never wanted me

I was made for the city streets

So why does this town hold the key

For where my heart and head meet

 

Unlock my hatred

For these people who roam

The only thing in common

Is we call the same town ‘home’

 

And when I wonder the little lanes

I crave the taste

Of the city planes

And I kick at the concrete waste

 

For why would I want to be in the place

Where everything is scarce

When I can be in the cold embrace

The of the cities circus

 

I don’t want to here

In the rotten town

And I hate to be there

Where the lights beat me down

 

Because I don’t want to be anywhere.

Untitled.

The night we first met

we used  headstones as resting posts

as we had the littlest respect

for the long gone and restless ghosts

 

Drunk on technicoloured poison

and high on the scent of dead flowers

I asked you please take joy in

these lonely early morning hours

 

Paint us a story

of a graveyard far away

nothing too gory

where everything is grey.

 

Giggle and whisper

don’t wake the already dead

the night air getting crisper

I can’t remember anything we said

 

Buried in the moment

I think the police came

and the hangover seemed worth it

because I’d always take the blame

 

Running from the dead

or maybe from the police

in any direction we fled

our friendship is a masterpiece

 

Paint us a story

of a graveyard far away

nothing too gory

where everything is grey.

I Wanna Talk About Time & Words.

Word’s terrify me. They grip onto me so tightly and they never let go. They burrow themselves inside my mind and make me sob. I can’t get rid of the words. That’s what writer’s block feels like; I guess. I had an issue there with grammar did the block belong to the writer? I feel like I belong to it sometimes. I haven’t written poetry in a while only because I can only be a poet when the block has me. It’s cathartic while the words latch onto my brain and refuse to settle into the crisp white paper or onto the blank screen. I have an old one though that I will share with you after this. A poem about a graveyard for a friend of a friend. A poem I forgot about until a few days ago.

Let’s talk time for a moment. How it hangs from branches in the sky and puddles at your feet. How sometimes it rains and pours and how sometimes it dries out your lungs. I want to forget time exists for a moment. But time is the moment I seek and everything adds up to the minutes and seconds it takes for you to close your eyes and fall asleep.

Maybe I am being idiotic when I feel like time holds me back, but every day would feel incomplete if time didn’t start over again. I hate the end of days and moments and trips and…

I haven’t been writing poetry. I have gotten over the writer’s block which was tying me to the confinements of rhymes and metaphors. But with untying those tight knots I discovered what it felt like to have time move quickly again. A month without writing anything but poetry. A month without any progress on any of my work. A month of freedom? Maybe. Nothing moved and neither did I.

I forgot about this blog because I was writing about things that seemed to be more important. A friend of mine started writing and I remembered it had been a while. I am sorry for the nothingness.

-L

Music?

Hey, dudes, sorry for the radio silence the last few days I’ve been focusing on building some more of my photography portfolio which you guys can check out in the Facebook link below. Poems are coming soon since everyone seems to like hearing them. But for now, I wanna give you a small music update.

Last year was outstanding for new albums and music. We had new Kanye and Beyonce content in the urban world. Lady Gaga came back with a new sound in the form of ‘Joanne’. New Frank Iero, Taking Back Sunday and Against Me, album’s gracing our ears. The Weekend even decided to drop by and treat us some more. But one thing that did surprise us all was the reappearance of Electric Century with ‘For The Night To Control’.

A smooth almost electronic indie vibe is set throughout the album and it’s honestly kind of mesmerising. Now, why am I bringing up this album again when I already reviewed it last year? Well, for the unlucky few who didn’t get a version of it last time will get another chance. They have revamped the album and are bringing it out for everyone to enjoy not just us few UK Kerrang readers.

Now, if you haven’t heard of Electric Century then get ready to hear your new favourite band. I’ll leave some links below to their music you can listen to for free. They were kind enough to give away the album last year and that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t support them this time around.

To give you a short quote from my review last year:

‘’For The Night To Control’ is out and it doesn’t get any better than this people. Mikey Way and David Debiak have created this wonderful project called ‘Electric Century’ and it’s blowing our minds. Get yourself some headphones and a spare hour for this one. It is incredibly immersive and outstandingly mesmerising. The vocals are softly dragging you through this beautiful masterpiece and while I can’t yet differentiate between many songs it is an album you can lose yourself in.’

Please pre-order this album and give it a listen. I promise you won’t regret it. Till next time…

-L

( Pre-order and listen here: http://www.electriccentury.com )

Another Sleepless Night

Blue light streams through the gap between the wooden sill and the blind

It settles onto the yellow blanket and shimmers its daylight dust

My eyes ache and itch at the feeling of the sleepless kind

And the morning breaks into a new and shatters the nighttime rust

 

Sleep is so far away now, but it has never seemed so close

A flicker of dreaming is enough to switch my brain to standby

Outside the air warms up, boiled as the sun rose

The noises, the birds, and the wind are mesmerising me as I lie

 

Utterly still waiting for something to occur suddenly

but nothing ever does and everything is slowing as the day begins

My eyes shutter closed and mind stutters into silence solemnly

The light purges the air of everything, of sadness of sins

 

The skull  shields my brain from the innocence of the light

it lets it continue its melancholy existence

As the moon slips undercover and sun emerges into sight

The world thanks the sun for its beauty and light; for its persistence.

Lazy Sunday’s

Curled into the crack on your cheek

Muffled articulation

Your smile oblique

Freckles like a star formation

Paint me blueberry

Graffiti my tongue

Skin fragmentary

The smell of you sedates my lungs.

A calming gale

Shallow wave

Our skins mix into pale

Your sour tasting aftershave

Let me wake up in your warmth

Sleep the day away

Curl your arm around my waist

Our bodies a bouquet

Rose Petals

🥀 Stuff my lungs with rose petals 

Let me suffocate on their scent

I cry their perfume

Melt them down to greying cement 

Let them overgrow and twist 

Around my aching heart

Cut off all circulation 

Smother me in their art 

The vines will plague my soul

Petals clogging my airways

Breathing is impossible 

Hunting for the suns rays

Let the roses grow and flourish 

In my rotting rib cage 

My body will home the flowers

Sugar scented sage 🥀

Let’s Talk Music!

Dear Reader,

Let’s talk about music. About albums, gigs, bands and everything in between. I am a gig photographer as you have probably seen from my small collection of photographs and so I get to write about music as well.

I want this to be transferrable from the magazine to this little blog. So let me force feed you my favourite releases from the week, month and year. Maybe even a couple of throwbacks to old albums you may have missed.

You came for the rambly poetry? Well, please, stay for my rants on music because they may lead you to your new favourite band.

Short and sweet for now, but tomorrow you have a rant heading your way…

-L