A rebel without a clue.

Information is never absolute Parts are lost Parts are hidden Parts are banned Parts aren't comprehension Parts are mystery Parts suffer misery Imparted untrue Lies take apart trust And deliver malcontents. First in three Third being sunny Twice equally squally. Eclipsed mood First in heart Heated crimson tide Flow in; tranquil, Sublime. Garden grows Between bricks and mortar Falling leaves gather Before the rake People smile against Implemented Being forced: awake!

Perhaps I'll only be popular for my sayings Not inclined to trust my inner folds Saving stitches of thoughts resplendent? Drunk Another 'so-called' ex-footballer Drunk Shrunk to hair and clothes Without skill nor balls Oh, Beckham lay still Decline; chill. The day which never ends We shall never fight against, Being with forever, And seeing every chance As a real goal; treasured Enduring. Today? Desperate to get away The consequence of NHS border And the dull repetition of Every single news headline. Flawed socially. Loathing Attired in wild conflict Hoping Strung out: skin peeled Back bone reveals Rotten disposition. Some Truth pick-me-up. Short of motivation Breath is shorter Feeling confused Turning inside out Relentless It is not working It must be broken? Silence is God The gaps I desire Feed my love. My existence is meaning less Little matters anything here Walking away What would that solve? Masturbation is a temporary relie...

The enfeebled sun of autumn wanes As clouds dart across an horizon Deep in a treacherous increase. If it isn't a Manic Monday Deconstruct the playlist Turn me on to Jimi. The Independent on Sunday middleclass. The Sunday Times middle of the road The Sunday Sun middle of the butt crack. What makes the news tick In the same frame; leaning either way They must sit, code, decide to cover the headlines parallel not parallax. At ten am ingress increases Inversely to progress Less achieved as the stampede Becomes grey. Truth: silence is impossible Silence! I command thee Two shout One sits noble betwixt.

Actionless action Thoughtless thought Knowing knowingless Perception perceptionless Dao is I. Empty and plan. Metaphysic kept our proverbials warm Consider it inconsiderable, All the tangle means nothing All the worlds words are a logical mess. Fury is a firebrand livid flamed Upon a star it burnsout; ending This was never Yet departs Eventually blank: We drift without a candle.

Leaves are yet not willing Straining to rejoin the form And hold up autumn Still standing green. Glowing grateful grin Shining sun sing Slowed in perambulation. Emley Mast slices A westering sun Spicy glows fronds Wait in rows Come down the valley Clinging Branches pointing Home. Leeds City workers are autumn thieves Sweeping up the fragile ends, Along with cigarette butts, Of leaves withering dead. A strip of moon cupping vapour Thinning clouds present Blue, where spiders do weave truth. Instance death Waves body dance Outward ripples An ankle twists Celebrate life. See the mad? They suggest insanity, Being their residence, Is a form we know not. #1 Rich. Never matter. Material is nothing. Bent. Nailed too. Occluded detritus. Included atrophy. #2 Piled up before. A beast who preys. On those who pray. Totem. Lustful licks.