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Monday, 28 September 2015

Hidden truth

A cluster bomb goes of in my head
As my body starts to seize
And twitch
Moving on its on impulse
Triggered by the shock waves
In the aftermath
I find my scattered limbs
Bruised and broken
Nerve endings
Twisted like a violin string
Ready to snap
There is an emptiness where my face should be
And behind it
An empty void
There is nothing there that will process
thought for me.
My functions now are routine
Simple tasks
To step out side the boundary
Would lead to certain self destruction.
At least with in the boundaries
The explosion can be contained
Managed
I have my own bomb disposal box
Full of tools
To prevent my complete and total iniallation
Apparently
To look at me you wouldn't know    
I practice hiding pain
Not for me
But you
For your comfort and piece of mind
I am only one         
Of hundreds of thousands
Disabled on the inside       
Invisibly 
With pain where bones should be    
My days shorter than they should
As sleep takes more and more time
And tomorrow's plans may never be   
Or may always be
Tomorrow's plans.

Monday, 21 September 2015

Recycled Soul

So here I am again
Back where I was
Where I started
With a numbing deja vu
My soul recycled
Reborn from old to young
And over again
Each time different
But the same
So here I am again
Back where I started.



( C ) spor

Thanks to Siobhan

Machine

In the fuzzy
Foggy
Daydream that is my daily life
I constantly get lost
Lost in thought
In space
In time 
I suppose I am like an old computer
Running slower with age
Taking longer and longer to process thought.
My memory bank corrupted
I slowly self delete
Not in any particular order     
Often I try to recall a moment or event
Or word
And it is no longer there.             
  it happened but the log has be altered
We are all machines
Some one once said
We live to serve our needs
We are salves to ourselves
Yet we do not feel like the masters        
Always burden
Controlled
Pushed by someone else
By something else.
Greed
Lust
A need to be better
Better than the false perception we have of ourselves
In this tiny world.                        
We are a leaf
In a forest   
We serve a function for a greater cause
Eventually we all wilt               
And go to the ground    
When our life expires.    
Or some other cosmic statement          
Which you would prefer to insert.     
While I try to find the door
I opened to get here.
One of those times
Where I am
Lost in Space    
As I child I remember watching that
Re runs off course
I'm not that old
Sunday afternoons I think     
One memory not yet deleted
Loved that show
Tiny people
In a gaint world
Who knew I would be the staring role
In my own version.
Fighting against a contradiction
For the more I grow
The bigger the world seems to be
Yet all the chocolate bars are smaller
Answers I need
Not so easy when I don't know the questions yet
But I know there will be more than one
And maybe the answer will be the same
Or none.
The door opens and I walk through
Leaving that thought and jumping to the next
Then another and another
Like stepping stones through the endless world that 
I have created in my mind
Where everything is possible
Everything can be real
Yet nothing is.
Hop
Skip
And jump
Back to life
To reality
To existence
To share the world
The air we breathe
Until we no longer can
Our machines no longer function
And stop                                               
We can be carried no further
This is where it ends          
This time.



( C ) spor 

Tuesday, 8 September 2015

Don't pay the ferryman

600 of us,
In a tiny boat,
Pushed through the waves,
We were set a float.

We fled our homes,
Left all that we had,
Gathering every penny,
Every piece of jewellery, 
And item of value.

With it we bought Hope,
We paid the boatman the fare, 
The price of passage high,
Too high,
Hope comes at a premium,
These days.

600 of us,
In a tiny boat,
Taken far out to sea,
And set a float.

The water it is heavy,
As it pulls at my legs,
And puts hands round my throat,
Choking,
Squeezing out every last bit of hope,
Until I have nothing.

600 of us,
In a tiny boat,
Our vessels filled with water,
And we no longer float.


(C)   spor

Hope

I have lost all hope.

If you could spare some loose change,

I could buy some more.



(C)     spor

Dead Time

I am just one,
One of the many,
Nameless,
Faceless,
Dead,
I lived in fear for my life,
I was murdered in my bed.



(C)   spor

Need

I do not want your job,
Your house.
Your wife.

I do not want your benefits,
Your charity,
Your food.

I do not want to leave my home,
My family,
My friends.

I do not want to die.




(C)   spor

Friday, 4 September 2015

Interruption

So here's the thing.
Where? 
Where's the thing?
Stop. 
So here's the thing.
I don't see a thing!
Listen
I don't hear a thing. What does a thing sound like?
Ssush
No, no still don't hear it!
I'm listening very careful but don't hear it!
Can yo..?
Ssush  
Wait there it is!
Ah that was you! 
Be quiet. I'm listening.
Ok, look the thing is tha..
Where?
Where is it it?
What?
The thing! You said " look the thing is" 
Well where is it? 
Ehh. ..here in my hand! 
Come closer...
Closer..
Close
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!  That bloody hurt
Good. Thats one thing! 
The other thing is....
I'm not interested in the other thing anymore
I'm away!
Thank you. That's all I wanted!
Just because I drive a Skoda doesn't mean im a taxi.