to my second best friend

drowning my sorrows at a party, her hair
becomes a lamp post, shinning a light
on a night that was so close to being lost
the kid drunkenly walks towards.
"This guy is not a threat"
the club was big but not in V.I.P.
after-work actors do extra acting off-stage it seems
jumping off sofas, rolling on the ground
really, like you're that drunk.
"Actually he's right I'm very unthreatening"



and turned it into a cross between
the best and the worst moments of my life.
for weeks on end you where a friend
then for about a year i was pretty sure
I'd never see you again.
but there was a return.
and life was never the same
we tried for a relationship that wasn't
a relationship. It was rather ridiculous,
you can't tell someone you love them
fuck them then turn around and introduce them
as "just a friend". it was bound to end
and end badly and end badly it did.
with many tears but only from one side
it seemed the love you gave was a lie
for i never saw you care to try
looking back, maybe i tried hard
enough for the both of us.
i put the winter months behind me
and tried with you too
but being without a thunderbolt
was something Lightfoot just couldn't do
it seemed like, to you
I've never been needed
but, i've learnt a few things since i was nineteen
and one is that not all things are as they seem
i think... i think i help. And...
yeah. Keep yourself good. be good. Nah. Keep good.
how do i put this? how do i tell you-you
you're what i think of when i think something right.
you're the light at the end of the tunnel
the smile someone would come home for
the eyes that make a hard life worthwhile
It's never been about the money
It's been about doing what you love
and sharing success with the people you love
and how can i bless if you're not flying with me?
like, flying above?
Like, looking like a dove?
looking good.
Looking like we should
in short,
the more you there is the happier I'll be.
read them. reach out. you'll never be denied
dude.

I couldn't if i tried.

Lazy sunday two

My lazy sundays there are a few
Before the sun rises into these eyes
I spare a thought for when this bed contained two
When I got out of bed early for you
Since the day I've only had a pillow to hold on to
I remember the hungover states
Walking slowly to the cafe to put grease on our plates
trading glances through glasses
feeling full up and recovered we go back to the bed
not to sleep but love instead
slow motion kisses building to powerful movements
her held-breath-sigh turns into a belated cry

Truly on those lazy sundays I did the most
Now on these lazy sundays i find it hard to cope.
This bed is a cocoon. A womb. Behold a man reborn
call me lightfoot my name is no longer Sean.
Because I keep on moving no matter what
Because the world will be mine quick when i get the shot
Because no man can run faster from any situation
(even when not moving)
I left with the excuse "I'm a young man understand"
and i know it wasn't fair, how could you understand
when not even I could? Nowadays I hope you're happy
and your lazy sundays are filled with love, eggs and tea
at the same time... I pray to the lord for you miss me.
My lazy sundays where the best days.
but that happiness, to be real, was just a phase.

Hip Hop.

Sixteen bars can make a listener wanna go far

like their lives are a modern day folk lore the truest underdogs

there ever where,

personally all that self promotion of hip-hop

has always been a sort of godsend to me, 

World circle 2.

LOVED
LOST
LEARNT
 
LOVED.
Every second of it
I've loved the looks that were given
the texts that were sent
the in jokes that were said
Only for me were they meant
Loved the beautiful face
That contained
the beautiful lips
And loved the beautiful lips
That contained
the beautiful smile
Loved her hips, arms, legs
And stomach
That contained
Her beautiful bile
The eyes were something to shout out about
The type of ones that don't hit you
but the ones that when looked
You can only fall into
Hours spent as
those eyes you search
And swim through
Loved.
Loved making love
Loving someone who loves you
You'll find it's the best thing you can do
Especially when you do it for a whole weekend.
the hair:
fair, long 'n' bronze
Light never bounced
But absorbed like a sponge
And was gently released
Through the glow that came from her skin
And always warmed me
No matter what condition I was in
Always funny
Awoke my grin
knew me well
Never overtly sexual
But always sexy
Not afraid to be adventurous
But always a lady
She was my honey my lady my coolest baby
Every song about love no matter how corny
Suddenly became a symphony
Gave me a feeling that this world was meant for me
Like we'd be together for an eternity
Yeah, this was the feeling. I knew it.
I had fallen in love.
How foolish a young man can be.
'Cos when I recognized
She no longer felt the same for me
I realized I couldn't fall for an eternity
Man I hit the ground hard
And I will be feeling that pain
Eternally
 
LOVED
LOST
LEARNT.
 
LOST
And what did I lose?
I lost it all.
 
LOVE
LOST
LEARNT
 
LEARNT.
I learnt to never trust red heads
Or women in general, at that.
I learnt you're not a man until
You're hurt by a woman.*
Learnt to conserve emotions
And conservatively converse
Making sure the truth never comes first
Strong barriers must be built up
So confidence can't get knocked down
Learnt why I see few are happy grown up
And in life you will always be let down.
Learnt that there's no point in trying
because if you tell yourself you're gonna be happy
You'll only be lying
Learnt that you'll probably
Be alone when dying
Aspiring means perspiring and why do that
When doing it for no one?
You're doing it for nothing.
 
Learnt
Learnt that women will be needed
But needing them for only one feeling
Is a lot better way of dealing
Someone hurt her
So she hurt me
So I hurt more
A viscous cycle of pain
That after Joining
I'm only happy to play the game
I assumed it was only natural
After all
Even the world
Turns in a circle
 
And time went by
And I stayed the same.
 
Learnt
On one particular day
When going to a girls
For a lay
She opened the door for me quick
And gave me a wide smile I never asked for
Wearing nice clothes I couldn't care for
She greeted me as if it was
Her personality I had come for
And looked at me as if
I was the one who had fair, long 'n' bronze hair
And she looked in my eyes as if
She was lost in them
As if when I wasn't looking
She had swum through them
And for the first time in a while I was reminded of
Myself, four years ago
And remembered, not the loss
But the love I had been through.
I held that girl tight that night.
 
Learnt
That if I had the chance to go through it all again I would
Because the bad times could never outweigh the good.
And yes, Though young love can often bring loss with it
Know in our heart of hearts we welcome it
As when it comes to ----
Any pain is worth it.
That's what I've learnt.

friend, relate.

Threw away a fun friendship
For a serious relationship
Traded a meaningful courtship
For a one-night partnership
Lost a heart of gold
To a life of old
trapped the lost girl
for unrequited desires
but she was so pretty
and exposed all the liars
fixed such broken veins
for a release of pain
she sipped your life
in through a straw
left your emotions
on the other side of the door
you were meant to feel for more
instead walk through life
longing for the cold pain
the thin slice sliding across
red slowly pours and climbs
longing to be free, just like me,
i, a bit like you, threw away
a meaningful relationship
for a one night partnership
supported an indignant claim
(an excuse) for a life of fame
but now all i want
is....

i just, don't know anymore.
god help me. I'm so lost.

never was.

Write the story but don't be held for the consequences
jump the fences hide inbetween the sentences.
im whinning about nothing i have no tragedy no harmony
no bitter sweet story and should be thankfull because
if something big ever hits i'll regret writing this.
but i guess i just want something to happen
something for me to be alive for.
helpless, hopeless speaking in favour of progress
less i digress into representing distress.
how uncharacteristic of me moaning about a life
i was once afraid to leave to no longer spend hour
upon hour rescuing princess Zelda but to instead
reap the worlds wonder to impact to just go.
And with that, I'll see you all tomorrow.

Try once.

Like a bulimic

that isn't sick
like a barbarian

who's unequipped
like a boxer
with nothing to hit
like Rooster Cogburn
losing true grit
like a down 'n' out spidey
calling it quits
like taking one from another
making one another number
A home
without a mother
(cold kitchen
microwaveable supper)
It's waking up to discover
you've lost the wonder
That extra something
that made you that extra bit better.
That voice demanding
you to try..... (harder!
)(When that goes your gone)
why do all the talented ones
give up to Inadequacy's son?
(Medi-ocro-teee)
stick the fork in me, dude,
I'm done.

You're not seeing him on wednesday. (but maybe in a few thursdays?)

how could you see him when he's mutual friends with a time you're trying to
forget? to look at him would mean to face the deserted dream. it's too hard. he's too nice. you're too hurt. you're too far gone. swallowed under as he stands beating over like the midday sun. You're on the run. He's crushed. He's laughing. it's just a misunderstanding. the prodigal son has come and would rather hook your arm than do you harm though you'd depart and stray towards... what? He doesn't know. You're keeping secrets. She knows. and knows. You're lying. He's breaking. Guitars are playing and memories are fading if his meeting was meaning you knew there'd be dreaming there's no way you'd be coming because you've got to-as said before-get running. So it's all wrong. he stands upon. great things but with no one beside to walk along. lonesome road he's back on. you're surrounded in praise but when the lights are off you daze in wonder, wonder if he's okay. if he's still standing strong facing the day. you hope he's strong. he's not alone. but you know. he is. and he's dying. but now it's bed time and you tell yourself you're kidding and really should be sleeping. without a prodigal son who'd rather keep you warm than do you harm who'd stay away if he thought it'd improve your day. and it does. and it will. until....... the dream returns.

man,

Don’t bother phoning boy
You know she wont call back
And even if she did boy
She’s not going to tell you what you want to hear
No, she’s not coming back round here
Relax those shoulders boy
You’ve done all you could do,
Move a mountain,
It won’t make her love you

Just, stop writing that poetry boy
Is she really worth it?
Put that pen down boy
Does she really deserve it?
Can you honestly say that your back is got
When you’re doing all you can just to get
Creative support?

Just, stop those tears boy
Don’t go crying on the train
You’ve been hit by pikies boy
You’ve taken bigger pain
Don’t you fall like the rain
Don’t you stand still again.
Hold on, be strong
Run faster than you ever have
This ache has gone on too long
You’ve already done more than you should ever have

So please
Pick yourself up boy
Release
Liberate
If you wait
The life of a fool
Will be your fate.

Slowly but surely vanity creeps up on me.

I've had enough of dressing like a kid. Enough of looking like a feeling like a kid. I want to hurry up and be the man I know I can be the one that's inside of me. Or maybe he isn't. Maybe this guy needs to be found through hard work and dedication to the causes I believe in. If only there were some causes I believed in. To be completely honest I'm telling all of you right now I'm not going back. Not to my old stomping ground or ways. I have to be egotistical and vain and let myself know I'm better than the people I met and the things I did to them the things I did with them. No sleeping around in body or mind (thanks camera obscura). So that's gone. I'm now a blank slate. I have less friends than fingers but thankful for it. I will build with laugh drink fight and die for them. And only them. I learnt something harsh already: not everyone wants the same thing as me especially something I've been longing for badly. What I'm supposed to think is that my life isn't a story it's just a life but I don't think that's quite right despite understanding I'm not giving up on that notion. That life isn't a story. It is. And that's why I like writing. I'm supposed to be writing now but this is what I'm thinking and inside my head it keeps rocking and racking my brain it's not pain but it draws my eyebrows down and my sunny demeanor isn't what it should be. But I've never been one for moaning or having a love that's unrequited so I'll just face it and it'll be accepted and already it's easier to deal with. Just, came so close to the end of lonely almost finding serendipity only to be plucked into something that I suppose will eventually been told apparently will-of course- be better for me. Fuck me if I wasn't fucked already. So what I'm doing is stand up comedy a little poetry writing a play and spending more time with my family. Stand up is slacking but only because that stuff is hardly temporary after all I may be doing that for my eternity that may be the beginning of how I make proper money. Poetry is easy because my minds just come from swimming in love and now I can write that down and get back into the groove. The play's the thing and that too I've been struggling. The subject is just so close though but maybe seeing as my actual lesson is learnt the story can now have somewhere to go. Despite having such good company (daily) I still get urges to leave this place like Ricky. But even he said this city is in me. I don't love Camden town I hate and am Camden town and hate that I am it. I feel this place owes me something and maybe in my unsaid vanity I believe this city, this city yeah it kind of needs me. To show the pretenders that lie daily and the beautiful and funny stories that could only be (and again with the vanity) told by me. So I'll be doing me. Let him breathe please. Just a moment before I do something drastic and reek havoc on a bunch of punters who probably couldn't H-and-L handle it. I'm going to let thunderbolt take the wheel temporarily, make the Ultimate Warrior understand that I'm doing my thing you see on friday finally hang with Dempsey finally and maybe, maybe slowly with working and dedicating I can someday be the man I hope to be. But how many comedians do poetry?