The day is new, and I’m already exhausted. Fuck the world, and the english ambassadors. Nightmare’s in the news, because something has to bring Britain to a screeching halt, hopelessness pervades my every thought, self-loathing pervades every painkiller i take. The public transport stops at the latest decrepit bus stop, and a train derails it’s […]Read more "Poem: Futility"
I hate being awake, and damn, death’s like sleep. My life got me spinning This moment got me nauseous, this morning had me wishing i was dead. My eyes aching Struggling to write Am I just unwittingly happy, or accepting death. self-hating Voices in my head, don’t answer that, And you all fully well know […]Read more "Poem: Disarray"
Eat me, because I’m being swallowed Let me rot, because I don’t want to bloom Endless references to death in everything i do every move i make an attempt to reflect death honing in on me Sleeping till noon, but waking at 3am sweating from nightmares of my own death. the image of driving a […]Read more "Poem: Cliche Psychoanalytical diatribe #18"
The download link: Between Relationships By Ben Brizell After many nightly hours of drinking too much coffee, listening to The Smiths whilst consumed by Microsoft word, I am pleased to announce that my debut and self-published chapbook Between Relationships is now available for download right here on this blog, right now! If you have downloaded […]Read more "My Chapbook- Between Relationships available now"
Familiar respite; Reading Keats, listening to Morrissey, drowned in sadness. Scribbling away in a battered notebook of poems about love and loss: poems you’ve read and poems you haven’t. You told me you pictured our future. Just weeks ago, blissful as ever. Now you claim just friendship. By last night you’d called me a twat. I’ve […]Read more "Poem: We’ll hug (for the times)"
Tis the early days of January. I look hard through the hue of rustic leaves. I search through the stacks of Wilde, Keats and Bukowski. I narrowly avoid my o’er streaked phone scarred to the remnants of a haunted past, my past. Encumbered with self-imposed exile duelling nightly with the tv and lovelorn feelings. In […]Read more "Poem: Softly lost"
Walls drenched in the sweat of yesteryear. I hate many. I love none Birds tweet of the consuming doldrums of today. To be a man. Is a burden. To have a soul. Is encumbering. I own a past long undisclosed. Now my past speaks to me with flirtatious intrigue. Hypocrisy is a hard embrace. When […]Read more "Poem: The isolationists nightmare"
There is no wonderment. Only statistics. Enforced damnation. There is no escape. There is no amalgamation. Just beliefs. So separate. They become one maddening idea. That sometimes escalates into something. So much more. And. So much worse. It’s dangerous. And. Beyond contempt.Read more "Poem: Spleen sale"
I stand alone in this wretched room. I feel rage. I feel pain. I feel tears. I let nothing drown my sorrows. Nothing could be of any help. Months ago where was everyone around me? Somewhere to be seen. Now they are nowhere, far out in the smoggy plains of Britain. The room hums a […]Read more "Poem: Hypnagogic "
If the past had not been so fucked. Then it would of worked. Hell just knowing that was painful. A delirious fever. A waking catharsis. Almost unbearable. As she passed. As beautiful as always. Her headphones stuck in. And. Her head leaning against the bus window.Read more "Poem: Her head leaning against the bus window"