Just poems really, on a random selection of things
Missed a meteor at 5am this morning ! Wish i could've seen it, but heres a link for a little video of it anyway.. http://www.telegraph.co.uk/science/space/9559670/Spectacular-meteor-shower-over-Britain.html The Meteor Fire ate the darkness spewing up...
The Philosopher Scientists appreciate science, study 'facts' and -ologies, and explore based on what, they understand. Using understanding to develop technology, an easier way of living. Mathemticians create theories that can last over time, numeracy,...
A train journey There are people who prefer music to the broken fleeting conversations of others, or the hum of the train. Some sit, read, or sleep. Sometimes people are fond of eating, or a drink. As i sit and contemplate bordeum from the basis of being...
Just in between lectures on a london trip with school, casually writing poems about the people i saw. Behind your eyes What do you see, mon ami? From misted, glistening eyes, as you sit and contemplate the skies? I will never know as you know or knew....
Paradise. I want you to take me away from this place somewhere where theres not so much a pace to keep up with to contend with to compete with. To be slain by. I want to be away from this war cry to not have to try to strive. I want to be more alive....
All from the 21st of October The worst word in the english language, and the worst insult ever : Naievety I know i must live longer, kick back more years to gain your respect, but though my years are nothing, compared to yours, at least acknowledge that...
9th of October - All of these poems were written on my trip to St Andrews Open day on wednesday, we stopped in Berwick upon Tweed, a place where the artist Lowry (whom worked majorly in charcoal) worked and lived. We walked the walls and i jotted down...
Clock The watched clock never changes. If only that was true. Time would be mine. Instead I sit as greedy fingers drag away my precious minutes. A slave to the unperturbed face. Continuously moving onwards constantly tracing a circle, the arms are dizzying...
Fallen Freedom. Will not you bring solace? To a heart, yet unwarmed, cold as ice. Or bring quality to loneliness? If never felt, never touched upon what could be.. What dreams, can be.. Then there is quality in loneliness, solace in freedom. However,...
