A rebel without a clue.

It is eight thirty The zombies join me I wait for them never to appear But they hardly disappoint. Beautiful blue skies White gulls far away Green seas calm Before the winter foam. Not enough ... Concrete stance Frail and lacking Formless Puzzling Saturday? Why should I see a stripped down universe? Did you strand me here? Too much Too young Until the end For something so ancient. Amongst Hard working Little thinking Too tinkering Fools You sit beautiful And reclined I sigh For youth Love for youth. A labyrinth is the complex ways Our seldom easy to plan means NHS can only slowly rattle A poisoning tail at the end of a path. Physiological, tick. Security, tick. Belongingness, no. Esteem, no. Self-actualised? Improbable. Being aware of awareness Inner peace and stillness In the face of the hurricane Of humanities farce.

Working in the weight Inside eyes frightened Scaled in to lateness And your verisimilitude. All psychopaths are ruling us now From the first dawn of consciousness Until the sunset upon this broken throne God it is bad. Gregg Wallace Is a crudely pictorial Probably false Faked from buttons to face. Didn't you realise? Is it possible I've lost interest in Facebook? But am I alone? First I got bored of television, then computers now I enjoy sleep. Oh, dark energy - you flood Our light minds with fear All we think we knew is false Arriving on shore without pilot or mast. The universe is a hologram How can a string vibrate 'one dimensionally'? Take me away from here. Flex a wrist, right No blood there Sure to run free at Least expectation. Today is likely to be numb And suffering mouth feel Which speaks of astringency When something happened Drinking a cup of Jasmine Tea. Is the decline of the pub the reason for the increase in male loneliness...

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!

Is it possible to know The Truth? Where there is no questioning Corporate media will not balance Mouth piece of the slavedrivers. Nothing was said to clarify The impossible achievement And the end is not the means. It is always just over a horizon; too often. Life multiples Life is common Life appears Life exists Life is to belong Life strides Life made it possible But being brought life; All ways and always. Is concentrating Being obsessive on one task - Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle. As all other objects of need fade away. I am a fiction of myself. This I always saw But went along. I was a slave. Now I am untethered - alienated. Who am I? Yes I once knew, I thought, Now I am confused, Thought doesn't untangle. Parts of my body Parts of infinity Leading everywhere Without control Never apart Reflecting Truth Attached variably. There is no authentic relationship ... As I lay alone in my bed, Dwelling on another vanishing Monday, The ...

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.