Searching For Answers ( Published in Razur Cuts IV )

Searching For Answers

Posing questions, like an inquisitive child, searching for answers,
Dread and fear that we are fixed, no scope for change,
A habitual sense of unease orbits the solar plexus,
Demonic conspiracies arm in arm with this elaborate nexus,

Shining a torchlight on the mechanics of mind, searching for answers,
The fragility of optimism, exposed, lay bare,
Kleshas force entry, a stubborn demand for squatter’s rights,
Nausea and agitation, the qualified providers, of sleep deprived nights

Blindfold in a labyrinth of esoteric conundrums, searching for answers
Energy depleted, diminished returns, hopes spurned,
‘There’s no such thing as depression!’ so the keyboard warrior rants,
A modern fable, ladies and gentlemen, welcome to ‘bants’

The cessation of analysis, no more searching for answers,
Uncomfortable friends, relationship dead-ends, a brain that won’t mend,
Letters of rejection, feelings of neglection oozing from every pore,
Knife meets skin, the endgame? blood and gore.


Shifting Ever Nearer ( Published in Glove Magazine )

Shifting Ever Nearer

The sky appears to be closing in, shifting ever nearer
Pockets of clouds like bones on an x-ray, floating aimlessly
Mind entwined in barbed wire, a network of loops like the number eight
Girls with skipping ropes and ribbons, pretty dresses as bait

The unwelcome guest, an imminent arrival, shifting ever nearer
No prying eyes, bundled to the dirt, a struggle for safety
Wants, longings, games played, desires become sated
Prayers and offerings, candles lit, in honour of the ill-fated

Questions that won’t be answered, the blame game, shifting ever nearer
Forever different, rearranging then toppling of chess-board pieces
A red dust storm of grief coating every fibre of her being
Fists clenched, a cry for help directed at HIM, the omnipotent, the all-seeing

Sympathetic glances, awkward stances, shifting ever nearer
The snuffing of a flame, a life, blacked-out curtains firmly drawn
Resorting to a form of hide and not seek, shell-like from the torture of grief
No respite from the pain of injustice, as life goes on for the heartless thief