GARAMUUU

THING ABOUT - My Fingers

I have ten fingers and they’re all pretty much alright. The ones on my right hand are better at strumming guitars- writing and pointing than my left. The ones on my left are better at making chord shapes-knuckle cracks and catching certain things. For some reason I have always eaten crisps with my left hand fingers and never the last two of my fingers. My fingernails are always short and serrated looking because I pick them a lot. I can make loud fingersnaps and do so whenever anything really good happens to me. Once a a pool table fell over onto my fingers. That was the most pain they were ever in. That hurt so so much. Sometimes I think of my fingers as having their own personalities. These thoughts usually come about when drunk though sometimes when sober too. Once my fingers saved my life- holding me onto a wall that was quite high when I slipped.

THING ABOUT- Feeling Weird

Sometimes I feel weird. It can happen at any time really. Sometimes when alone staring at a wall or sometimes around others. I felt weird earlier on today. That was the last time I felt weird. I had just come out of the shower and put on clothes and sat down doing nothing in particular.  I wondered whether or not I should eat a dinner and wondered about lots of other things. I was very warm and dizzy from the hot shower also. It felt a bit weird.

HAIKU- ripping my pants

earlier i tried 

to do a karate kick

and i ripped my pants

POEM blob

blob blob blob

blibidyblibidyblibidyblibidy

bloob blob

blibidyblibidyblibidyblibidy

bloob blob

blibidyblibidyblibidyblibidy

blob blob blob

bloooooooooob

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POEM- Laowai

here i am about to smoke

chinese pipe tobacco

with my friend

and the room is quiet 

and full of little 

bits and pieces

POEM- Lalalalala

i have eaten about

thirteen bits of potatoes

that didnt even taste that nice really

but made me full 

and my head heavy

like a jcb or something

cold in the room now

the fire of takeaway boxes

and bits of newspaper

didnt do much to warm me

my eyes feel heavy too

like my eyelashes are all drunk

maybe they are

id like to feel a bit drunk

but i have no money

only just about enough

to spend on some 

form of energy bar or drink

before exams or whatever

tomorrow at some time

also to get through a

lot of cycling in the

machine gun rain

past the wet ducks

in the canal that seem like

they are eating up each raindrop that

falls down

the bike is a bit bust

i dont know why

it cackles a bit 

POEM- …

there seems to be no full reprieve

in dashes towards wonder

as thoughts fly high into the sky

conceived in clouds of thunder

are striking now upon my eyes

blink out in flash of blaze

cannot be seen with clarity

but hypnotized and dazed

could it be seen as form of pity

like the little plash of sorrow

or do i now doubt what its about

for validity tomorrow

POEM- Path and Thinking Away

there i was once

dressed in the warm clothes 

as the bus rolled

past bony shoulders of buildings

and breathed in the citys smoke

the footsteps on paths loud and wet

felt like insects 

a hive of vexed clicks

and i waited 

eyes taking in the ooze of orange glows

no sign yet 

wondering how messy my hat hair was

outside the hotel 

and the african toilet attendant

i thought of him every time

after the first

as if he could say more things now

and what he said coming true

that time as if by some providence

a feint feel of magic to think

back to

but now gone

as he is and 

as i am

POEM- Moomb

it was late at night walking fast with head to the sky 

festooned with stars and the rising moons  sigh

as if to say soon 

i will soon die

dissolve in the blue dye of noon

eyes crying mouth round like a croon

maybe im doomed too 

maybe  by tomorrow

ill have followed that white ball into its own tomb

now im floating like a helium balloon

but how long before  i sink

into the vacuum 

my eyes are zoomed

i realise ive been paralysed

and my moonlit body cannot move

sucked into the sighs and stuck like glue

imbibed into the view and how it can imbue

with its soundless coos 

you now hiding behind clouds enshrouded

masked clown of winking clues 

watching down on me

making my way through the avenue

the black duvet of night 

wrapped around the moon 

and i 

POEM- The Róisín Dubh

i then saw you

under the red glow

of the smoking area lights

i felt so silly 

pretending to be lost

going around the place

with a pint of blackcurrant juice

it tasted so icy and sweet

as you chatted away to people

later when i walked downstairs

i noticed you

getting with someone

in the corner under a shelf of books

and old guinness posters

I Am Deluded

all those hints are there beneath the crust

a complete set of clues to suss out

but these lack of words feel like a ruse or just

a new way to discuss doubt

without alluding to those ambiguous

and quiet refusals to speak out loud

but it could come out of the blue

into the the thought process of wanderlust

but i wonder can we even adjust

when compromise provides a time to revise

those age old issues of truth and trust

when it seems our mixing would end 

in suspension and not solution

and we are just incongruous

and it yet it feels so boom or bust

a self revenue i must accrue to find a way

to ride the waves in the quickness of a gust

Without Plan

drank a monster can

listening to Chopin

eyes spin like a fan

tomorrows exam

so to cram

itll be grand

nocturnes and

handwriting without thought or plan

while the pian-

o plays with soft touch of a gentleman

notes hang in my head  a dangling orangutan

while i slip like sand

through fingers or liquid through coland-

er still without  plan

Haiku- a haon

awake before birds

into a pond of morning

alarm stole my dreams

Think of Me In Dim Light

think of me in dim light

when the dark of night

confuses me with him

think of me in times of mystery

as if i were a whim

think of me should you let go

of everything you hold

think of me as hanging on

to something that is old

think of me the way you did

as if right now is gone

think of me then and now 

think of me on and on

i think of you in dim light

when the dark of night

confuses love with you

i think of you in times of mystery

as if you were a clue

i think of you when i let go

of everything i hold

i think of you as hanging on

though that thought is bold

i think of you the way i did

like then and now were one

i think of you now and then

when quiet days are done

in dim light

when the dark of night 

confuses truth with fiction

Poem: And This Like Any Other

and this like any other

sat in the air of a cold 

crow’s morning

this set of eyes

wide as a long yawn

blinking on settled sights

a sounded smile to myself

talks a tapestry

but a flat feeling 

mosses the words