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Mostly a collection of my own writing works, poetry/songs, quotes i enjoy, occasional artwork etc.

Daniel - Not It

I hand you back my name -
I do not want to start with a D anymore.
I do not care to be the lion tamer
or rather
some sort of victim
awaiting the judgement of gods -
I want free pick of all the letters
and make some incoherent tag for myself
of no significance
or definition
and live as some dyslexic parable
awaiting the judgement of dogs -
Call me Ishmael or call me Shmeali
but do not assume upon my name
some hat or coat that fits it -
I hand you back my name
I do not want it -
Not it

"There’s poetry in everything, everything is music; just listen and you will hear it."
- Noam Shpancer
"He could tell i ain’t missin’ no meals"
- Nicki Minaj

"There’s poetry in everything, everything is music; just listen and you will hear it."

- Noam Shpancer

"He could tell i ain’t missin’ no meals"

- Nicki Minaj

Landless

We
are not so
landless as we are 
waiting to make graves 
and who then will refute our
claim to these here fertile grounds -
Yellow stones the sand made by the dying
flesh from ancient soles will stand when we
may not as monuments to our unbounded plight -
We here etch names living into olive trees and present
palms up to reap the harvest though no fallen fruits make 
a freer man then they and prayers are for better versed men
and we are not so godless as we are waiting to make graves and
who then will refute our claim to earth made fertile by the ages of dead

Stars, Bars and Nietzsche

Grains of shattered oceans
reflect double 
in the ceiling
and we tie nooses of them
in about a life time -
Chiming even
in the stillest night
the beads are wishless gems
in unworn necklaces 
and we make crooked necks 
to steal them
not reaching ‘til we fall
though close some great men
rise on bent backed 
bungled/botched disciples
of the Nietzsche crux -
Haggle with the barman
and he’ll spit in your drink
and in the swirling foam
a message:
It’s not what you think

What are knuckles and cheeks
in a poets world
but pens without ink
and papers still furled

Masquerade

I am a dog without a tail
I am a tree without a trunk
I am a ship without a sail
I am a hand without a thumb
I am a leadless pencil
I am a hairless wig
I am energy without potential
I am a sty without a pig
I am a hollow body of decaying flesh
I am a wordless poem
I am the music when the band have left
I am a threatless omen
I am nothing more than that which I am
I am not trying to be anything more than I can
I am sauntering on though this maskless masquerade
and when I get to the end
I won’t be wishing that i’d stayed

RIP Jay Adams 3.2.61 - 15.8.14

RIP Jay Adams 3.2.61 - 15.8.14