To Purchase The Moon

I sacrificed the sun
To purchase the moon
Working hard
From dusk to noon

But all you see
Is me locked away
Stuck in my room
Unable to play

I’m trading my time
For you to live
It’s the only thing
I’m able to give

I’m so sorry son
I know you need more
You need more of me
Of that I’m sure

I hate how this world
Forces us apart
I long for the days
I could apprentice you to my art

But that would just be
A different kind of pain
What if you didn’t want
To work in my same vein?

Thus my attempt
To lift you high as I can
I want you to become
A fulfilled and happy man

There is no right answer
Beyond a cry and a shrug
Other than to read you a nightly story
And depart with a hug

Just know I’m always thinking
Of you and your brother
I love you both
You two and your mother

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This poem is from the book Wage Slave, The Unpaid Overtime Edition

Work Life Balance

Attempting to balance
Work and life
Just seems like another job
I don’t have time
To complete

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This poem is from the book Wage Slave, The Unpaid Overtime Edition

Trapped & Alone

Of course you feel so trapped and alone
It’s the only life you’ve ever known
It’s impossible to see what you’ve never been shown
Impossible to think when your life’s on loan
Forced to become what you should’ve outgrown
No true role model other than those
In your home
The actions taken now your future will atone
Already you are regretting the seeds you have sown
Already you are wondering if your mind is your own
Acutely aware of how you act the drone
Just another hapless soul addicted to their phone
Just another underpaid overworked useless clone
You know it’s not enough just to sit and bemoan
Your slavery to capitalism or how the algorithm has you prone
Or how you waste everyday dreaming of the unknown
Losing yourself in the fantasies you’ll forever postpone
Following the leaders you should have overthrown
Following the narrative spoken in that safe monotone
How easy it is to comply to accept and condone
To just go on feeling trapped and alone

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This poem is from the book Wage Slave, The Unpaid Overtime Edition

A Rut

A scratch
Turns into a groove
Which becomes a rut
A guide for life
Learnt
So early
That the learning itself
Is forgotten
Just the path remains
A cycle
Of eternity
Stretching forward and backward
Towards infinity
Escape is possible
Only for those
Willing
To give up
Everything they ever knew
And every way
They learnt to know it

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This poem is from the book Wage Slave, The Unpaid Overtime Edition

Modern Day Peasants

You
and I
Are just
Modern day
Peasants

Convinced
By capitalism
To needlessly want

Controlled
By inflation
To pointlessly save

Coerced
By religion
To endlessly argue

The farm
Replaced by a cubicle
The hoe
Replaced by a chair
The grime
Replaced by paperwork

We
Are trapped
Idolizing
Those who escaped
The trap
The very system they now uphold

We devour news
As if we
Have any power
To act on it
Believing
That if we at least know
We will somehow survive
The next apocalypse
Our rulers say
They are protecting us from

We pretend
That the weekend is life
And that our work
Has meaning

We pretend
That we have fulfilled
The dreams
Of our childhood

We pretend
Because if we don’t
We will realize
We are
Modern day peasants

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This poem is from the book ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken

Life To Avoid

Coffee to wake
Instagram to connect
Porn to cum
Alcohol to relax
Weed to create
Coke to play
MDMA to love
News to inform
Sugar to distract
Mushrooms to pray
Valium to calm
Melatonin to sleep

Life to avoid

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This poem is from the book A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken

Legacy

In the end
The only things
I’ll leave behind
Will be the few memories
My children hold dear
An empty bank account
A pile of used junk
And
A few words
Immortalized upon the page
Waiting
For someone I never met
To misinterpret

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This poem is from the book A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken

The Mountain

If I knew
How hard
I’d have to work
In order
To not have to
Work so hard
I’d have probably
Settled for a day job

Only now
Do I realize
Just how tall
The mountain
Truly is
And how strong
I’ll have to be
To climb it

Nonetheless
I am grateful
For my ignorance
For it made me
Strong enough
To believe
That I can become strong enough
To make it
To the top

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This poem is from the book A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken

Of Myself

If I could just
Monetize my pain
I’d be able
To exist
In this world
As myself

Until then
All I can offer you
Are these
Few
Words
Of myself

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This poem is from the book A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken

I Wonder

I wonder
If my role here
Is to sacrifice myself
For others

No one
Gets out alive
So why not give
What I have?

Perhaps
In doing so
I’d find
My purpose

---

This poem is from the book A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken

Forgotten

Eventually
The day will come
When
You are thought of
For the last time

When
All evidence
Of your existence
Has vanished

When
Even your descendants
Have forgotten
Your name

When
Every atom
Of your body
Has been recycled

Then
All that will persist
Of you
Will be the subtle impact
Of your brief touch
Upon the collective consciousness
Of humanity

---

This poem is from the book A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken

How Is It?

How is it
That all I get
For all my time
Is so little money?

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This poem is from the book Wage Slave, The Unpaid Overtime Edition

Maybe

If I sit here
Long enough
Maybe
I’ll have the strength
To stand

---

This poem is from the book Wage Slave, The Unpaid Overtime Edition

Sorry My Boy

Sorry my boy
I’ve got something to do
And unfortunately
It doesn’t involve you

Sorry my boy
I don’t have the time to chat
I’m too busy
But you know that

Sorry my boy
I can’t play right now
There is too much on
I’ve done as much as my schedule will allow

Hey my boy
I’m finally free
Want to hang out
Just you and me?

Sorry my dad
I’ve got too much on
With my work and my mates
My time is all gone

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This poem is from the book Wage Slave, The Unpaid Overtime Edition

capitalistic desire

here’s to the capitalistic desire
to sacrifice our lives
in order to have the
most fancy coffin
just to flex on
our friends
that we didn’t have time for
and to afford a headstone
chiselled with a quote
espousing the value
of hard work
and dedication
to something beyond ourselves
that no one will read

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This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.

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This Day Is About To End

This day is about to end
It’s almost time to do it again
To pretend you’ve got reasons to attend
To trade time for the stuff you can spend
Five days then a weekend
Repeated without the chance to ascend
No chance to transcend
No bonus dividend
No time to mend the relationship with a friend
Just a life you barely comprehend
Attempting not to offend
Attempting not to condescend
Working on autopilot until you expend
Look at that, it’s year’s-end
Nothing of worth penned
Nothing of worth to recommend
Just an overspend on the new trend
A backbend in lieu of a godsend
How will you fend
When you have no meaning to contend
No higher force on which to depend?
I don’t mean to offend
But this day is about to end
And unless you want to do it all again
There’s some things that you should attend

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This poem is from the book Wage Slave, The Unpaid Overtime Edition

Abyss

Slowly
Gently
I realise
I am falling
Into the abyss
That I created

Why can’t you hear my silent screaming?

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This poem is from the book A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken

A System Of Inequality

We live
In a system
Of inequality

So utterly brainwashed
Into believing our failures
Stem from inability
To operate within the system
Not the system itself

But what choice do we have?

Who are we
To question
The very system
That raised us?
That fed us?
That educated us?

How can we possibly
Step outside
The paradigm
Of our reality?

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This poem is from the book A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken

A Moment That Will Never Come

It feels like
I’ve been preparing
My entire life
For a moment that will never come 

My body is tense
My mind is sharp
Yet I have nothing to do
With such focus

There is no enemy to fight
No emergency to survive
No monumental struggle to overcome
Nothing other than this day
And the next and the one after that

What glory is there to be found
In the daily grind?

How can I be proud of defeating
The mere anxiety of surviving the moment?

. . .

I crave catastrophe
And ache for the apocalypse

Not as a nihilist
But as a person without purpose

There’s little joy to be found in a job
Creating just to consume
Producing just to procreate
Done daily until death

I am a man without meaning
Readying myself for revelation

When survival isn’t assured life is serious
The useless artefacts will fall away
What actually matters will materialise
Focus will be forced towards functionality
Distracting decadences will be discarded
Leaving nothing but the struggle of life

Perhaps then I’ll find real purpose
Maybe existence will feel equanimous

. . .

How privileged
Am I
To lament
The ease of my life

I am blessed
To have never seen war
Or suffering

I am blessed
Yet that blessing
Feels like a curse of meaning

Without an enemy to fight
Without an obstacle to overcome
All this feels dulled
Life feels like a shadow
A mockery of everything I was promised

Thus I create my own demons
Faceless oppressors
That cannot be seen
Or overcome

Then I cry about my problems
Like they actually exist
Writing angsty poems
From a place of privilege

. . .

As a child
I learnt
Vigilance

To survive
I slept light
A knife under my pillow
Waiting for an attack

That attack never came
But I still sleep light
And have made my body into a weapon

I am still vigilant
Waiting for the attack
That will never come

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This poem is from the book A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken

Sacrifices

I wonder if
On the day I finally
‘Make it’
I will regret
The sacrifices
It took
To get there

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This poem is from the book A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken