Rhythmic Ramblings

To take your breath away,

But the love will never go away.

And the peacocks pick locks and peep on Goldilocks, While all she was trying to do was get some sleep, But next week she won't sleep cos her dreams of obscene, Dilating between the violating machine so isolating she screams, "Why", but it's always "Why did I not double lock the door?" "Why did I wear a skirt so short?" The questions we've all heard before while society ignores, The floors of this system, I implore you to listen, To the girls bag eyed, tongue tied, but alive who decline conversation, Because they see reincarnations in most situations, Of the toy boy, coy boy, "I'll show you joy" boy, "Better than" man, fan man, "I'll prove I can" man, Who touched her in a club or tried to feel her up, On a crowded tube at noon half way through June, Who got rowdy when you told him to move, Off of the train and out of your way so you could say you got on with your day, And preyed this wouldn't ever happen again, To all the fucked up, drugged up lads in nightclubs, Who think a shag's in the bag cos they told that "bitch" they loved her, Take a dive tonight, don't cause a fight, don't add to the line, Of every one in five sixteen to fifty-nine females in Britain, Victimised women of a committed sex violence crime, Don't you think it's time you called it a night? So Goldilocks, my dear, remember it's not the bears that are to be feared.

How would you feel about being gods of the Underworld together? Joining hands in the holy matrimony of death, We could live (or not live) a happy life (or death), Listening to the soft trickle of lava like raindrops on glass, And the howling of Cerberus like the wind chimes of home, We could sing stupid campfire songs that drove the other gods insane, Because our joy would annoy those incapable of believing, That we could survive a full life in the real world up here, And end it still full of light and with no tears, Because we'll rip up every rule book we'd ever held before, To be as outrageously happy beyond death's door, So rather than asking you to come and fly away, I'll ask whether you'll rule the Underworld with me someday?

Nitrogen narcosis is a temporary and involuntary alteration in consciousness that deep sea divers can experience due to the extremely high pressures, It’s said to have an anaesthetic effect, and can cause feelings of complete tranquillity and relaxation, I wonder if I sometimes react similarly to the pressures of life, Whether my body shuts down due to an influx of emotions or thoughts, Narcosis can also cause tunnel vision and a skewed sense of direction, Meaning that the diver is no longer able to tell which way is up towards the surface and which way drags them deeper, This is also a familiar feeling as we all experience the crashing waves of life that pummel us to the seabed from time to time, We can become numb to the discomfort and immorality in our considerations and actions when we’re caught in such a tsunami, This is why when somebody sinks into such a depression it can seem nigh on impossible to swim back to the surface, When the air they once breathed seems like such a distant memory when confronted with the gases that suffocate their mind, The most straightforward way for a diver to avoid nitrogen narcosis is to limit the depths of their dives, Some may say the depths of depression could be prevented in similar ways, But as pressures pile up, it is easy to feel confined by false walls and entrapped by a very frame of mind, The feeling experienced by this narcosis has also been described as like intoxication from alcohol, marijuana and nitrous oxide inhalation, These are all feelings that people can get hooked on and crave despite their inherently risky nature, I wonder if occasionally we seek other feelings in a similar way; bad as well as good, Because discomfort can get comfortable and it’s easy to settle for what one’s convinced themselves is normality, When it is in fact just a rapture of the deep.

So in the stormiest of nights, When the skies crack with light, I’ll know it’s you that gave them life.

Laying in a Vegas hotel room, The sandy skies suggesting sunrise soon, Can start to see the reflection over distant hills, The golden echoes of dollar bills, The beaming lights that set the city on fire, The hot air that lifts us higher and higher, Constant noise yet constant calm, Resting in shade under trees of palm, The neon Boulevard of the busy Strip, Rooftop resorts where some people sip, Champagne from sippy cups, metal bottles of beer, No matter where you are, you're guaranteed fun to be near, The city never sleeps, the lights never go out, If you want something, go get it; you can get it now, The glimmering glow from the sky has risen more, Peaking through the curtains, casting patterns on the door, This place is one where life seems to thrive, A route march walk or a steadily drive, It's in the middle of the dessert but with so much might, It truly is an incredible sight.

I wanna cry myself to sleep and wake up in your arms, Knowing that for just even a few minutes my heart was finally calm, I care not for the stars shining onto my bed, For they're far too far and know not of my head, You, on the other hand, seem to hold the key, To things I withhold from others in an attempt at mystery, And I'm unsure sometimes whether you know it, For if you do, you act well, you don't show it, But your breath alone appears to heal, All these wounds I fear to feel, And you smell of silent oceans with your heart the rhythmic waves, The melodic rocking motion, a future I see it paves, My tears would dissolve into your sea, Every drop descending into its tranquility, Before I drift off, I close my eyes, And picture you right by my side, And as the water falls, I think of all, The feelings, You'd bring, Of hope, To cope, As one, Happy, Again.

He asked her if she could change one thing in her life, What it would be, The little voice in his head pleading "please pick me', But his words tailed off when in response she said, "I'd change all the things going on in my head", He wondered if this meant she'd change ever loving him, All of a sudden the light within his eyes went dim, And he understood but was so downhearted, He started to wish that he'd never even asked it, And he wanted the chance to confess to her the truth, To whisper quietly, "I'd change ever losing you", But she didn't ask because he thought she didn't care, When the reality was she wouldn't ever dare, Expose herself like that to the boy who broke her before, So they were both left with less silently wishing for more.

Crying in the bathtub, Oh how I've missed this, The gentle patter of the rainfall as water meets water, The misted up mirrors to hide my reflection, Watching the smiles disappear as glass hearts shatter, The razor sat on the side of the bath, It's sinister teeth taunting me with a welcoming grin, The red tinted knuckles smashing like waves into my shoreline, Sending vibrations up my face as they crash into my jawline, Tender skin and aching head, The merry-go-round of thoughts wishing for death, And the ever so familiar silence of my phone, The lack of buzz or any sort of dial tone, So many lights flash on but nobody is home, So I'll sit, As my eyes begin to dry, I'll continue to wonder why, I thought I was okay, Because, sure, I have days, Where everything feels like it's going my way, And those are the days I tell people about, But I often seem to miss out, These ones, Where nothing feels okay anymore, And I joke about my lack of productivity, But don't let on that the reason I can't focus on work, Is not because I'm lazy, though that's part of it for sure, But because I cannot focus on anything but this whirlwind of my mind, Where the damaging thoughts are yet to subside, So I attempt to drown out the noise with pointless music and videos, Reading endless romanticising prose, And it's hard to care about your future when there's always part of you telling you that you don't have one.

She's the kind of girl who finds herself in the subtle sound of the kettle in the morning, The smell as she flicks through books both old and new alike, The seemingly nonsensical satisfaction of buttercups tainting her chin in the Summer, The dogs that chase their tails much to the amusement of passers by, She's the kind of girl who will forever replay the memories, Of her friends laughing uncontrollably in the Summer heat, Of the drunken mistakes, not always regretted, Of the time she tripped over and two hands were there to pick her back up, She's the kind of girl who loves, oh boy does she love, The fresh, nearly intoxicating air as it glides through her hair, The smiles she prompts upon her friends' faces, The late night conversations that would never have ordinarily occurred, She's the kind of girl who you want to love, The kind of girl that you do, The kind you'll never forget.

When I have kids, If I have kids, I want them to see me as I see my friends, Fuck all of that “respect your elders” shit, I won’t teach them to respect me; I’ll teach them the importance of respecting every single person on this planet So, yes, that’ll include me, But it’ll also include the girl who sits alone at lunch drawing her daydreams, It’ll include the man they see wrapped up in blankets, dirty face and outstretched hands clutching a paper cup, And, yes, it’ll also include the school bully, The noisy neighbour nextdoor, For wars are never won when respect is gone, Not properly, I’ll teach them to respect even the people that make them want to tear their hair out, Respect them just enough to sit at a table and discuss with them why they must stop what they’re doing, Respect them just enough that they don’t lose every ounce of hope, So if they let their barriers down, they’re glad that they did so because my kids were the ones that listened when nobody else would, And along with that, not above nor below, I’ll teach them that they must respect themselves, That means reaching out their hand to me, to their friends, That means accepting every lump, bump, urge to jump, Accepting that that’s just who they are and if it’s something they can change, Then they must do it, for themselves, If it makes them happy, So, yes, I’ll teach them respect but not in the fucked up way our society does, Not with shouting and shaming, But with passion, explaining, With love and respect like they one day will too.

You are the cold night breeze giving life to my blinds, The air to breathe, liberating my lungs, The moonlight illuminating tiny particles, which out of the reality confines of day, dance around my room like pixie dust, You're the ever brighter skies; you make it harder to go to sleep but easier to get up, You fill my mind with thunder and flowers and rain and sun and rainbows and lightning, You're the peace that enters my heart the first silent moment after I've turned my alarm off, You're the space between my front door and yours, The fresh air, the grass, the hills, the traffic, You are the music that echoes between my ears on the days I am numb, You're the hug that reminds me I'm loved, You set off fireworks in my fingers and thumbs as our late night conversations transfer the warmth of our hearts, You're the freckles that like to surface some sunny Summers, Always beautiful, Always fleeting, You are the first glowstick I got at a friend's birthday party as a kid, You would bend and break to give others your light, I'm always hesitant when snapping glowsticks because I don't want to waste their light, I wonder if I'm like that with humans too, with you too, I distance myself so as not to risk wasting your light, Your beauty, magnificence, It's worth more than I could ever deserve.

To the you who cries over emotional quotes and segments in films, To the you who fights back tears to remain seeming strong for your friends, To the you who is so scared to love because you know how much pain it can bring, To the you who loves anyway because you know how much joy it can bring, To the you who sings like no one's listening and dances like no one can see, To the you who turns bright red when you say the wrong thing in class, To the you who laughs until you have the whole room in hysterics, To the you who scribbles patterns on scraps of paper that nobody will ever see, To the you who writes notes to remind yourself of the lessons you've learnt, To the you who holds so much in that you feel you can't move, To the you who eventually lets go and tells the people you trust, To the you who apologises when someone bumbs into you, To the you who refuses to apologise for something you didn't do, To the you who holds doors open for teachers, To the you who trips your friends up for a laugh, To the you who always offers them a hand back up afterwards, To the you who hums your favourite songs when you think nobody can hear, To the you who hugs so tightly you share your heartbeat with those you love, To the you who laughs at your own jokes and puns, To the you who does cartwheels down the street, To the you who always offers a shoulder to cry on, To the you who never gives up on yourself, your friends and passers by, To the you who is perfectly you, Thank you.

BANG There goes another devastating blow in this drawn out duel nobody declared, An arena so full of life and laughter, Erupting into disaster, deaths of people's daughters, The melodic music ringing through ears, Drowned out by screaming embodiments of fear, I can't even begin to imagine the scene of this crime, The crimson chaos of human clocks running out of time, The IED you carried with you, Improvised Explosive Device, For an, Irrationally Ended Day, By an, Ignorantly Eerie Devil, But we're not afraid, This has proven how low you will hit, But we're not scared of your shit, You've shown your disregard for the kids, You left with exposed ribs, Lying in a pool of their own blood, You can break our heart, But you won't tear us apart, Every strike tightens the stitches of our souls,

Don't you want something to tell your kids, your grandkids, your grandkids' kids? Don't you want them to be proud of their father, their grandfather, their great-grandfather? Picture the smile they'll hold when they hear of your heroics, Imagine the excitement in their eyes and their thumping chest when they see your achievements on the news, The rosy cheeks as they boast about you to their friends, The medals, the rose-tinted photos framed in the hall, But wouldn't you rather have photos with them? Wouldn't you rather watch them grow up from closer than the confines of your barracks? Picture the tears erupting from their eyes when they hear of your overseas heroics, Knowing that you chose a medal over them, Imagine the sorrow, the pain, the anger in their hearts when they see your picture on the news, With that all too familiar, glorified, sombre music in the background, The fiery cheeks as they lie to their friends about why they can't play Call Of Duty with them anymore, The medals, shoved away collecting dust in the loft, The photos, now faded and brown, How glorious.