NICK CAVE

He's got hair, with the luxury of neatness.

Thick, black hair, one strand hanging loose.

Thinkers eyebrows as straight as crossroads.

He wants to say what he's thinking, but he's too busy thinking!

His eyes are remaining shut.

He doesn't want reality to sink into his mindset.

The creative path will be lost if things become real again.

He draws to inhale, the anticipation of the next idea.

Provoking it, trying to find which path to follow.

He smokes three cigarettes in a row.

He will get there.

He doesn't want to rush it.

He is alone, just him and his creative thought storm.

SHE

She wants to be single while she travels the world.
With no heads or tails, there isn't too many choices.
Either accept the idea or send yourself into the spiral which 'could have been' more.

Is it manners or scars that get left behind?

Blood Brothers

He has a voice,
A positive outline for an iconic genius.
Undeniable character,
Vulgar, swearing, tea-drinking, British vision,
that needs to be seen to be believed.
Says what he means and don't give no shits.
CHILD OF THE DAMNED.
Energetically charged as he performs his unrelenting masterpiece,
the constant interaction,
bringing together a world-wide family.
THE TROOPERS bellowing out his tunes en masse
the sense of unrivaled welcoming,
for a moment, you're not alone,
the dense congregation of intimate spirits collide.
As the night unfolds and comes to an end,
IRON MAIDEN transformed me into a link of the BEAST.

Love

How can I keep my emotions intact,
when nothing but the world's of trouble get in the way
Do I love you like my heart had intended?
or will I sink like a rock to the bottom of the lake?
The weakness of my being is also my strength
I'm vulnerable to the objection of love.

My mind always wanders away from where it should be.
I've tried to keep a girlfriend but it's me that gets in the way
I've retrained my heart to want what it can't handle
I don't know why,
I can't help myself.

I will always want what I can't have
A loving tragedy of struggle and I'm only hurting myself.
There will never be an end to this
I think of love, you will agree that it's only the passing of pain
if only you could see what I see.

INNER VOICE

The inner voice that demands you be you
Won't come out and shine on through.
Everything you try to keep turns it's back away from you.

Run of Negativity.

It's cold in here..


You don't have a lot to show, from this life you were given
You suck it all out, to give, 
You've made your own prison.

The mistake has been done
You started it and made it become.
You've driven yourself to blankness,
You're in a consistent hole of sadness
We can all see, YOU don't know how to try
So why don't you join a group for the soul-less  

The indifference makes me attracted
but OUR worlds found the way to be contracted.

It felt like this was the last way out of my personal hell.

With what I say i'm crying,
It never gets me anywhere.
It's forced me into a river of lies
Your mind must think it's dying.
My pointless choices need no introduction.
I'll just stand by and await repercussion 

I know a guy that'll tell you to go FUCK yourself
His world isn't in order, all he wants is someone else, someone to hold, someone to love,
His problem is his own head.
He will say "Yes", just to pass the time.
but He will really mean "No" "I won't give you what is mine"

Here you are, thinkin' you've got the shit,
And somehow you think you can get away with it.
Have all the fun your body will let you handle,
All it can do is find it's way back to haunt you.
The skull is now a broken, melody without a beat.

Yeah, Michael (a.k.a WRITER) you really chose a great way to spend your life
and what's left of it, 
As I knew you would, before even you did. You would screw it up.
I've watched you,  watched your life glide by.
Everything you have touched, another person, a t-shirt, the fucking keyboard.
YOU! make them leave you. You're a child. a 26 or 27 year old fucking child
(Not that that would be BAD.., but you know, i'm just refusing to grow up). 

Life isn't all fun and games. There's a serious part somewhere...

seventh of the twelfth

"That kettle is making a lot of noise"  I murmered to myself whilst trying to hold in the explosion of laughter.

After all I should be able to write something that has absolutely nothing mathematical: the kettle declined it's tune and multiplied a few things and belted into a melody.  Yet some how reminds me of Christmas Ugh, what a different sort of month: 

The shopping centres, 

the roads, 

the random acts of kindness, 

the donations, 

the giving, 

the taking, 

the acceptance,

the greed, 

the alcohol, 

the trouble, 

the forgiveness..... 

I could go on but I've lost my almond, Ahh the month of things...