Dreaming.

Feeling like I’m in a dream state
State dreams that are not to my benefit
Claimant number #4080
Claiming money for my benefit
As I seek to work to live
Currently living to seek work
Self esteem losing steam
In my self worth
But for what it’s worth
I keep working for the dream
Because really reality
Isn’t quite what it seems
To me that is
Looking at things as is
As if I’m preparing for the day
To be an overnight success
Fuelling the ambition
Burning inside my chest
Through to my vital organs
As the organist plays
The memories of my life
Whilst each passing moment
Keeps bringing me
Closer to death
So I chill with death’s cousin
Frozen in a deep sleep
Because the best dreams are the ones
Where the thought and reality meet.

Ramblings.

The never ending tale

The sale of the century

Of a hundred dreams

of scenes and episodes

Of soap operas

Housed in the bubbles

blowing through the market

sailing away

castaway in the streets

Looking at how things stalled

How things got anchored

And held back

When I look back

At the stalls selling their wares

I know a little about this

I understand some of that

But to the seller

It’s neither here nor there

As I tear through the market

tearing out my hair

tearing out my thoughts

as tears run down my cheeks

Thinking about the trials and errors

trials and tribulations

Going through this trialling era

Hoping for a trial period

So those can sample

Why I believe in myself so much

What makes me smile

What lights my spark

Why I get out of bed

To do such wonderful stuff

Because I don’t fit the criteria

I don’t tick the boxes

Because I’m a mixed bag

Pick your mix from my black boxes

Because when you think

I’ve crashed and burned

And you think I’ve lost it

In the abyss

You’ll find something special

With some random access memories

Yet you were the one who dismissed this.

Break

Wake up to daybreak,
Daily routine kicks in,
to make a fast break down the stairs,
For breakfast,
breaking shells for eggs in a pan,
break my diet plan,
turn on the television,
to view the breaking news,
from across the globe,
On the panoramic screen,
With the same repeated scene,
of macabre images of a broken world,

family breakdown
vulnerable kids in families break down
from the break ups of broken couples
pre matures getting broken from wombs
Cos it’s easier to live life
when the child’s in a tomb
But inside screams a hollow soul of doom

the young and gifted not getting a break
Held hostage in red tape
from laws that make it
impossible to break away from the catch-22
no experience for work
no work for no experience
In turn
The only break they get is being an intern
Where in turn they work for nothing
Stay broke and in turn gets turned over
Half lucky like a 2-leaf clover

Broken men with no fathers
Break keys for a living
Break, enter and steal for a living
Break people for a living
Just to get a killing
from the world’s spoils
Making something out of the concrete soils they grew up from
They were something that lost nothing
Because they had everything to gain
To maintain
But they get uprooted and placed in a cell

I’m a broken man
with layers that need breaking
Put my heart and soul into this
Aching within this glass box
Throw stones at me please
Break me out of this
False philosophy
Where all I see
Are parts of me
that need to be broken apart from me
Depart from me
Like Israelis
Walking through the parted sea
To become Egypt’s escapees
Melt this insecurity
Hammer on the ice
Break this deep freeze.

Chrysalis

Stuck in the chamber,
Revolving bullets of hope,
Russian roulette,
Spinning in the hopelessness,
That’s trying to get to my chest,
To my heart,
Pull the trigger,
False start,
Pull again,
False start,
Erase,
Rewind,
Reset,
Rinse and repeat,
Trying to snatch victory,
From being defeated
By my struggles
And barriers
Aiming to jump in the jet set lifestyle
Like a Harrier,
And fly away
One day.
But for now
I must hit hard
at the edifice,
To scare away the ghost in the shell
To get out my
Chrysalis.

Lessons.

Cold,

Numb,

Life happening around me,

Leaving me dumbstruck,

Cursing my luck,

Struggling with my purpose,

My existence,

Existential conditions,

Got me split between fact,

And fiction,

But who’s making up stories

Who’s telling the truth?

Mixing up a pantry of lies,

In the pudding

I search for proof,

But it all blows up in my face,

When life throws a block in the way,

And the bad news you read,

Can make today seem longer,

Like another 12 hours added to 24,

To make the bitterness stronger,

To prolong the pain in my veins,

Until it gets to my brain,

And slowly clots away,

Until it gets to my heart,

Palpitations of frustration,

Trying to tear me apart,

But from the tears and the scars,

You cross life bridges you want to burn,

Ashes to ashes,

Dust to dust,

From the hand been dealt

You earn,

But I can’t go out like that,

God wants me to stand firm,

And to write about these lessons,

For future classes to learn.

26 Letters, Infinite Ideas. Spread The Word.

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