Wish You Would Come Back And Whisper One More Word.

POEM

It feels like l I am immersed in salt water

There sky seen unusual than it use to

The foe showing their flag at noon

The rooster crow and sprint

They do you illusion so that you doth not savour the sweet fragrance of rain.

So that you doth not relish the pleasantness of porridge.

So that you always feel like you want something you cannot describe,

Heck! Alas!

Check out this post… "Do You Know Graham Greene? ".

The Writer's Vow

Ink stains fingers, pages fray, yet still, they struggle through.

Morning light creeps past the blinds, a pale and fleeting glow,

Coffee cold, ideas thin, but on the words must flow.

Each letter drips with restless doubt, each sentence feels contrived,

Plots unravel, characters shout, but none feel quite alive.

The cursor blinks, a steady pulse—a metronome of dread,

Marking time in silent taunts within the writer’s head.

But habit binds with iron threads, forged in sleepless nights,

Discipline, their bitter bread, consumed beneath dim lights.

The muse is fickle, fleeting fast, like shadows on the wall,

Yet duty grips them to the last, though passion dares to stall.

Afternoon fades, the word count grows, though hollow feels the gain,

For not all seeds the writer sows will bloom without the rain.

But still, they press with weary hand, through paragraphs and prose,

Chasing meaning, bold and grand, in lines nobody knows.

And when the final word is penned, the day’s great battle won,

They close the page, their thoughts unspun, though restless minds aren’t done.

For in the silence, whispers start—new tales begin to play.

I miss everything about Graham Greene, love him so much... His writing about 500 words per day is so sort of bizarre.

"Spikes and Shadows"

He laced his boots with threads of spite,

A rebel heart, a flickering light,

Mohawk sharp, dyed crimson red,

Echoes of rage inside his head.

Leather jacket, patched and torn,

Symbols stitched of nights forlorn,

Chains that clattered, boots that stomped,

Through empty streets where shadows romped.

His mother wept, his father roared,

"This isn't you—you're something more!"

But "more" was chains, and "more" was loud,

A voice that shattered every crowd.

"You're lost," they said. "You'll fade away."

But fading wasn't punk rock's way.

So with a snarl and fists held tight,

He vanished deep into the night.

City lights like jagged scars,

Graffiti hymns, and broken bars,

Friends with names like Ghost and Snipe,

Living lives carved out of hype.

Yet in the echo of each show,

A shadow whispered soft and low—

Not from the crowd, not from the stage,

But stitched between his stitched-up rage.

The echoes grew, as echoes do,

“What’s freedom if it’s haunting you?”

No answers came, just static buzz,

A question left for who he was.

Years rolled on, and posters peeled,

The vinyl scratched, the anger healed.

But in his chest, beneath the ink,

A softer beat began to think.

One winter dawn, with breath like smoke,

He penned a letter, words bespoke:

"I left to find what I could be—

But lost myself to feel free."

No home he had, yet home he found,

In ink, in scars, in silent sound.

A punk, a son, a soul unbound,

Spikes and shadows, safe and proud.

I CHOSE THE WAY Of BEING A PUNK

"kids these days don't loiter or act rebellious enough any more" kids just existing in public are more criminalized and surveilled than ever. almost every western country is running a panic about youth crime and how random teens standing awkwardly are a threat to civilization, and pushing for much more punitive laws. tons of states and powerful lobbies are pushing "parental right laws" that restrict the civil rights of minors even more. policing is first and foremost targeting youths, especially from low income and majority immigrant neighbourhoods. if a kid mildly steps out of line or says something awkward online or in a public space half a dozen people can whip up their phone and start mass harassment campaigns. and tech companies are now restricting access to the internet, the last way many teens can talk to each other freely and reach out to people outside family and school.

anyhow i think people really need to start giving kids at least a tiny bit more grace instead of making smug posts about how uncool they are compared to your youth days, you fucking twats