A rebel without a clue.

Time to kill, Killing time, Waiting until A thing good Enhances Any chance Leaving it all Behind; A merry-go-round. To dance alone Where belonging Is continuous Being.

When to depart is A time you please Those arms are Simply irrelevant But, due to conformity Of laws man-made, Ticking can weigh Grossly on nature! Unweaving truth; Threadbared; Pulling on treuws and Then ties boot laces; Without depending On intense passion To fulfill another day.

In Leeds, a city of several hundred thousand, I am often face to face with the same few people, and I don't mean those who work in the retail or hospitality trade. Like me I believe they live their lives in decreasing circuits, knowing every shortcut, alleyway, ginnel, snicket, to our advantage. Like them I rarely spend much time on the main thoroughfares and go directly to those places I feel safer than the hemorrhaging bus lanes or the bleeding queues! Leeds: for all it has to offer to the mighty majority of West Yorkshire, to me it is a brick piled desert painted vermilion, peeling and inanimate. It is no longer depressing for me, but I still attempt to shield myself from it's emptiness somehow! It is simply because my life consists of the same circles. There isn't much here so I end up trapped in these fewer options. My loop is to open the windows, on a hot day like today, put a load of washing on, adjust the metering to give me a warm bath tomorrow and then step outsid...

A broken link A cog clipped A facet dull A tooth brittle To forge anew To append too To polish stone To wear down What is the boil becoming? The disappearance of being, Clinging to a fine ledge and Slipping towards the final fall. For nothing of any substance! Gone within the tenuous air. Self worth? Aka work... It's a mystery Many fathoms deep Boredom replaced by drudgery! What is it worth? Memories are valued work, Creating trails to connect Meaning with being, And not pointless waste, (As time seemed precious?) Squandered in foolish haste.

First I ran into nothing to say, Which meant to cease scribbling; Leaving pages blank. Then I found it difficult listening So I returned the last Audible audiobook (The Order of Time by Carlo Rovelli), As it seemed to be speaking in riddles, And Star Trek(TNG) became banal Making it so... Now I've realised this tinnitus is more intense and my girth is accreting. This Covid thing is the root cause (I am sure), And my front teeth ache, As each of my "joys" are curtailed. Too much of meaningless pursuits. Grasping at straws Where nothing really matters It has no telos. Feeding dry combustibles Into a spiritless flame Where passion fades.

The Earth sighs deep relief, Yet today I am exhausted! Suffering a separate malady, While the old enemy strikes, My pointless hands grasp space, (Praying away a weapons thrust) Or I'm lost! Within a formless version, During a faint day, On hearing a formless chatter, Disregarding my soliloquy, It's back. Between the truth and the death.

We've done this to ourselves, And everything loving! Over a thousand creases woven, But not so blinded behind the Caricature, in a fantastic show! We're not fair, nor equal and never just! Inside me a battle persists Between truly being honest And lying forever to my essence And I don't know why! But I know I want it finished. Perpetual and turning back On myself relentless. Turn this scorning frown inside To display an illusion Where speaking fails. Now I feel lost again, Battling unnecessarily, An imposter, I must relieve From perculiar perch - Most predicable, and Being knocked off, Firmly and hopefully Beyond restitution.