Sweet nothings

If I ask nicely will you stop talking?

It is a buzzing in my ear. An ongoing buzz. It filters through my ears and seeps into my mind. My heads feels like treacle. Heavy and pounding. Words sticking to my thoughts. I can’t concentrate with these self-important mumblings violating my inner peace. Irritation quells and self-restraint is necessary. Do not speak out. Toleration is the gift. After all, I should be listening. I can’t. It is too hard. My mind is too busy. There is work to do. And yet you will not stop talking. I wouldn’t mind if I had an interest in what you were saying. I guess it could be relevant. In spite of this, I don’t. I can’t listen to your deep, penetrative voice. Aged and rusty. You might say experienced. I say conceited. Then again, who am I to judge you?

Fences of London

The fences of London are invisible. Yet they are there. They come in all shapes and sizes. All strengths. All colours. All areas. They are there. Barriers to reality. Barriers to truth. Barriers to integration and wholesome acceptance. Why don’t we just take them down?

The Powerful Nail

We should all admire the powerful nail.
On it’s own the powerful nail is strong.
It holds stuff together.
On top of the stuff we place our knickknacks.
These knickknacks tell the tale of our lives.
The powerful nail can become even more powerful
When there are seven powerful nails working together.

Chipsticks

With filthy clothes and deep-set eyes, you stare up at me from your place on the pavement. That isn’t your place you know. You don’t own it. You just sat down there to eat your chips. I could sit down in that space next to you if I wanted to. I’m not any better than you. Your chips smell and you’ve been drinking. Are you looking at me like you want my life? Like you would trade your piece of ground and bag of chips for what I have? Stick to 'your' chips and 'your' ground. The grass is rarely greener on the other side.