We sit on a train
staring into the abyss.
Is this action, really sane?
My fears, you dismiss.
The abyss, coming closer,
the end ever nearer.
You think you’re the composer
but that is a veneer.
You’re but a puppet
on a cut-price budget.
Tag: writing
The Radio
I get back to the car. I sit in my driver’s seat. I don’t feel the urge to do anything else. I just sit there, in silence. I am not looking at anything in particular but everything in general, and it is all weighing on me. The humour of the last few minutes has deserted me, and I don’t want to laugh. I want to cry. I want to beat the steering wheel. I want to scream. I just sit there and don’t look at anything in particular but everything in general.Read More »
The Thirteen Stones
I often mess with both writing and music, I claim to be no expert of either. One of the things that has always interested me is minimalism. I want to say the most in the least. Read More »
Shoegaze Sunday
Like many people, I spent parts of my youth playing in bands. The early years became later years and I still played in bands. Then my life decided to take a temporary dive off a cliff, during that time I stopped playing in bands and avoided music altogether as there were a lot of memories tied up and I didn’t want some of those memories to re-surface.Read More »
Capital Gains
Have you ever felt like you can just take a step, all your problems will disappear and they will never come back. It is hard to fight against taking that step when it feels so logical and the safest place to be. No more worries. No more sleepless nights. Read More »
Keats
I wonder why I dived in.
What did I hope would happen?Read More »
The Dust
The dust. The dust lay thickly across the shelf. A snowfall of epic proportions across the contours of the shelf, taking on glacial properties. I trace my finger through the dust. It throws up fairies, dancing in the glinting light. An almost imperceptible breeze blowing them to their new kingdom.Read More »
