Some old verse:

The Reason:

There were times
when I said I'd give it
my best shot.
I recall now
that sadly I did not.

Quietness of mind
and fire in my heart,
I died inside
to wait for the moment
to fight with pride.

My talent I give you,
sacrifice freedom,
expression, thought, art;
there's a debt I owe
these streets I only start.

With the hope
of a hopeless boy,
and none of the money
happiness can buy,
I slog on filled with joy.

Friday:

I rub my palm against the smooth sandstone
on my way out the door past the building.
We spent the afternoon out and about,
conversation was brief, reached out alone.
I'd planned it all out in my head; we'd share
anecdotes, amusing jokes, business plans,
but you held back, distant, listening to
my love of music, closeness to other.
I should have asked about you family,
instead I mouthed off my manifesto.
It's startling just how detached I feel,
but really I shouldn't be surprised.
Obsessed with individuality
this is the world I have created.

A warm hollow glow, self pity and pride,
I know what I know, understanding wide,
not meant to get on, outside in the cold,
the week is now gone, I shake feeling bold.

Br'tf'd?

Someone was shot in bradford today,
it didn't even make the news.
The people I work with are all racist,
but keep it under wraps.
The whole country regards with dismay
a city with startling truths.
I'm too pathetic to wake up and face it,
not backbone, or spine, I'm trapped.

What fumes fuel this disregard?
A filthy fury blows through these streets.
"Don't be so P.C., it's only a laff"
The Obama jokes come through thick and fast.
A city of Outsiders, inward, looking outward,
so much violence lately, hope lies, bleeds.
I don't stand and say 'Enough',
of those with a conscience I am the last.

City with no hope, citizens hang by a rope.
They know it's wrong, I laugh along,
and die a bit more inside.

Silent Howl:

"I saw the best minds of my generation
destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked."

You shrieked out a howl
that silenced the crowd
and made them take note
and listen.

The torrent of pain you felt,
dead folks beside whom you knelt
breaks my heart when I read
your words aloud.

Our world here is numb
sensational, hysterical,
meaningless, spouting meaningless
so...so...dull.

I envy you Allen because
you knew
minds who dared
think, shout, pushed themselves,
pulsated towards madness.

Where are our minds?
Madmen starving hysterical naked?
Their sadness was bitter,
but left a sweet aftertaste on the tongue.

Are there no more boundaries to break?
Bare your soul.
Is there nothing more to provoke?
Sacrifice your self.
Is there no enlightenment left?

Radicals, Revolutionaries
take up your arms!
Dreamers, lovers
push yourselves forward!
We're stuck in the mire,
and this shit stinks.

We stopped moving forward
because we stopped speaking out.
Regret and madness
are sacrifices
we none of us
are prepared
to make
alone.


Sympathy for a lost father:

Window open on both sides,
let the breeze blow on through.
Sun sinks down behind the hill,
but leaves its light for hours.

Sun shines on the righteous
but it's beautiful at night.
Pain can't become you,
even once you lost the fight;
in the dark moonlight.

Your sad eyes crack me,
but your grim silence subdues thee.

Our hearts bleed for you,
we cry hidden tears away.
We despise ourselves,
but we're glad that we're ok.
Live another day.

Be strong my lad,
and remember good times had.

Catch a mouthful of the air,
and remember he is there,
holding on to you.
I never met the man, and I hardly know you,
but I can tell,
he was so proud of you.