An Ode to public speaking

I Hate feeling fucking nervous,

It makes me feel so fucking worthless,

While I know I don’t deserve it,

I still hurt from every word that,

 leaves my lips.

Don’t ask me to picture the room naked,

Cause there still less exposed than I feel.

With their eyes scanning me like an animal,

Now I’m trapped in anxiety’s zoo.

With a snake round my throat,

Centipedes in my stomach,

A parrot in my head, mocking each word I’ve said.

So now I’m stuttering words,

Every pause is a panicking punch,

To the gut, brain and heart.

Especially the heart,

The heart that beats like a war drum,

While the brain screams for flight,

The gut tenses hard stopping bile from rising.

But I feel the burn of acid on my throat.

A crowd stares silently and my mouth hangs agape,

Sweat beads on my forehead my face glowing red,

My heads an abyss.

I want part the crowd aside,

A nervous Moses running with no pride,

With one personal commandment:

Thou shalt not speak without feeling

Like the shit on the shoe of men far worse than you.

Dash to a cubicle,

Lock myself in,

Curled like a foetus,

In womb of sadness.

Cause I don’t want to be fucking nervous.

I wish I didn’t feel so worthless,

I wish talking to a room hurt less,

I wish I could speak without making a mess.

Snakes

Emotion was lacking in snakes that were backed into

Corners or back walls,

Trapped into a vacuum.

Where nothing matters,

But self-preserving natter,

Doing anything to make sure that you felt

Better.

You wanted the truth,

You wanted safety more,

So you sat back and smiled as the snakes whispered more.

You wanted the help,

But not the struggle,

So you let snakes wrap round, suffocation through fear.

Scared of the truth when the lies a hot dagger,

Can’t take the impact of honesty

So in fact you fall back on

Lacklustre sustenance

Of plastic emotions. 

Ok

Feeling happy, lifted by sappy overtones of hums and drones, jazzy notes playing inside me.

Getting back on track, planted at a desk with less sound than a padded cell, I fell.

Honestly, I felt hollowed and heavy now I was no longer steady, my smile wasn’t ready.

Hunched over, a flower desperate for water I sought out comfort, a longing thought.

The phone chimed, despite the sight of life I hung up three times, at least I tried.

Vibrations, shaking a shallow state I pick up without haste I state, I’m ok.

Is that all? A thousand words to say clawing in your larynx, what do you say.

Ok.

Nervous needles, prick your spine as your lie lies not with them but in your mind, but your fine.

Ask me, chewing on my tongue never bringing up an issue, preoccupied with what may go wrong.

Lungs singing, a woeful chorus but you brain seals the chapel doors, from honest choir to

Deceitful orator, you hope that later on someone catches on to your woeful song.

But it was never sung.

Help, never a one-way transaction, the fact is you need hold a hand out before someone can catch you.

Complementing contradiction, the sadness that scares the soul, stopping speech that saves me.

But then blames me, making my lack of motivation to pronounce my worry, troubling.

I’m ok

Where’s the reason? searching far and wide with great pride, with nothing to find.

So what’s to hide? A sadness inside that boils to the surface unprovoked, how imperfect.

Is it a lie? Perhaps I beat my spirits because I’m used to gloomy weather, however.

What’s to lose? The safety of okay may save the day hooray! But I’m still sad.

Stop, Thoughts of nagging future bothers then hover over your contacts, double tap.

Say hello.

Ask how was your day.

When they reply.

Deep breath.

Im not ok.

Flags

We put a flag on the moon to say we got their first

We hold flag up high when we surrender to force

We drag a flag through the street to give our opinions traction

We wear opposing flags to a footy game, drunk looking for action

There are flag’s in holes to show the golfer his goal

Flags in the sea to show the tourist a boundry

Flags on a coffin to show a sacrificial respect

Flags paraded through scarred streets, roaring pride of the SS

Flags for a show

Flags for a speech

Flags side by side a bunch of democratic bro's

Burn a flag the right will scream

Own another the left Furiously tweet

I hold my flag close to my chest

A pole that’s bare

With no flag to contest.

Issues

Friends will make you jitter,

Our enemies often make us bitter,

Your choice of partner chooses you,

As either a winner or a quitter.

See a couple sat on twitter,

A strong report of type that glistens.

Sit them down together till our world fades to the past,

Watch them grapple for subjects not sarcastic or crass.

Look to a couple who are like cacti and cloth,

One piercing the other with hopeless grasp,

The other desperate to float off, soon as those spines snap,

The pain is dually suffered until one gives up hope.

The beast of need is just the sin of greed

Patching insecurity with attention constantly,

Sightless demands draining a slowing supply

Everyone micro- second not given, they ask

Why, why, WHY?

Every reward beckons challenge,

Every victory must pass defeat,

A relationship is as imperfect,

as every single human being.

So, if Stars cross and you both have no issues,

Grip a happy dagger, then thrust it through the heart,

Feel the surge of care and hurt, then never drift apart.

To put this on record, I lay my flaw here:

When They are not near that’s when I start to worry,

Fear take’s a spoon, stirs my fears like a Mcflurry,

The ice bites my heart, so its pace will now hurry.

Meanwhile fingers pitter-patter spelling out a worried natter,

A lack of trust can exasperate mental clatter.

Train poem #1

Cold air runs through the warm box,

The wheels churned the tracks, so train slogs on.

The music leaves me deaf and the silence outside is eerie,

The portraits that surround me are locked in frame,

No smiles, no movement still souls in transit.

The Ancient trolley wobbles through the gallery,

A one-man band of crashes and snack’s,

Offering alcohol, to bring the spirits back.

Every stop comes then soon passes,

Ignored by the masses,

Noted down on page

By those pretentious asses

Who harbour desire to break up “normality”

With the tap, tap, tap of technology     

To break a cycle with repetitive motions

Then while the train shoots of in a flash

The rest of them remain, models in a still life class

the motion isn’t easy

the outside is a blur

the angels in my ear

serenading

the sound paints the world

as more than fuzzy browns and greens

animating those who stare there at their screens

but I guess that’s also me

inside my mind I’m simply locked in my perspective

I wonder what the lady across would say

About my little word collective

“well ill have you know you little prick

That I don’t look boring

I fink I’m quite fit

Besides you’re the creep searching around

Like an addict looking for a fix

For something to say or write

Some nonsense and the like

Cause your as bored, plain and still as the rest of us

Right?”

I guess she’s got me there

The train is just a syphon for the life inside us

From the boy on the laptop

To the bloke on the kindle

Even the couple who just got on chatting

But now stare at their own phones

Without a kiss or glance between to ever happen

Trained to switch off the moment we sit down

To recoil inside ourselves as deep as we can go

In case we should ever dare to connect with anyone else 

Spirits

I found the spirit that I needed

It lifted me up from my chair.

Paused my breathing.

It was raw yet frigid,

Clawed at my throat.

Though it lacked weight

This drink helped me float.

It flowed in my glass- mirror

Image of myself looking back,

Fuzzy like my vision,

Blurred like my past.

To a witness in the bar they

See a fallen figure double down

Dousing fires in their soul

But the liquor burns them quicker,

Till the fire behind their eyes

 let’s you gaze into their hell.

I prayed I’d never do this:

Never follow a father,

Who preached Vatican titles,

Yet smothered his issues

in booze and substance abuse.

Then went to church the next day

and begged for his forgiveness,

who then came later anyway

continuing misuse.

I’m not a man of faith

But I will not be a liar

Ill pray to any god who’ll love me,

Stop me drinking

Like my father.

Valentines day xoxo

I hope you find a better man

I hope you love him more than you want to admit

I hope he whisks you away, hand in hand.

I bet he’ll give you joy that’s firm and true

I bet he’ll slip inside you, pleasures of a sinner

I bet he’ll put the drive in your dreams like a knight, shining ardour.

I hope he take you out for fancy dinners

I hope he takes you places in his fancy car

I hope you wait for his reply till midnight, then text him franticly till daylight.

I know you’ll think about him non-stop, his face runs through your brain, blinding motion

I know you’ll call him right after work, the thoughts seep everywhere, vast ocean

I know you’ll tell him how your feeling, how your heart with rapidity is beating blood around your chest if you cut a vein, the blood would gush out more emotion than you could ever hope to express.

I hope the phone glares in your face

I hope the ring runs on till you hang up

I hope your inbox becomes an empty place.

I want you to stay because you need him, no want

I want you to have arguments over the code to his phone

I want him to do wrong, then you love him more and love yourself less.

I hope when you see him you’re on edge

I hope when he sees you he looks away

I hope his voice will haunt your dreams, as it echoes “I love you” rhythmically.

I hope he dumps you through the phone

I hope you spend the nights alone

I hope your heart sinks low like the tears on your face.

I want you to bury your head in your pillow

I want you to bury your feelings to no avail

I want him to date a new bitch within a week.

I think about you every second.

Dedicated to jojo

Pink

Pink is the flesh

Pink is the pig

Pink like the meat

Pink innards squished

Pink in the eye

Pink the disease

Pink on the rise

Pink pastel sighs

Pink the depression

Pink bright on the outside

Pink for a woman

Pink now for men

Pink as a stigma

Pink as raw blood

Pink elephant stance

Pink stubborn yet fair

Pink’s attentive air

Pink flushed cheeks

Pink emotions: rushed and bleak

Pink that colour of rosy cheeks

Pink badge of the awkward and shy

Pink stands out, bold, proud

Pink neon rave

Pink making slaves

Pink is white plus red

Pink is the colour

Of a privilege left for dead