qbpd (No Limits)

Quite Beastly, Possible Delirium

before you stands the grandest piano

on which you’ve heard others play

majestic melodies, their limber fingers

inspire your songbird to pray

the seat is lumpy, but there’s so much to say


rehearsed songs recede like the tide

suddenly at sea, you stab at the keys

any notes will do, the truth or a lie

in horror, you look down, when all you see

the bottom key: pitch black and plainly rotten

across the dim, out of reach, the highest note rests

between—a chasm—my song remains forgotten

these measured notes are hidden ‘til another suggests

for the white heat of the spotlight blinds and arrests


Quivering Belief in Positive Desire

I don’t relate to things properly these days

childlike delight or righteous anger, there is no other way

you don’t see what I see, the sky is breaking apart

i’m betrayed by instincts trained to see in the dark

i’ve been wishing that I wasn’t for awhile

whiling away the days, wishing for what isn’t

wanting without moving, thinking without doing

feeding the ego: a black belt in bitter rueing

And yet

radically accepting, loving and forgiving will poke light through drawn blinds

repairing frayed strands is possible, I’ve seen it done, on the rope that binds

these revelations from up high are so clear in my mind…

as the fog descends once more

I’m not done with you yet, you arrogant fool.

faith in another life, a different point of view

it’s farcical, you must know it, without any tools

no bolt cutters, no key, no gratitude

on and on

and on we go


Quick Belittling of Personal Disposition

boundaries are fickle things, in the face of the drug of desire

of joy and hurt, of fear and love, they all possess and transcend higher


what would I be, without this mask forged in fire?

tested, perfected, to lift a heavy heart

yet when the curtain falls, I’m left a liar

the façade fades, and I fall apart


There is nothing at the centre.

I search my eerie insides unsure what I’m looking for

Urgency. Belief. An anchor. An escape.


There is no stable centre.

in a state of flux, in the spotlight, I scramble to my feet

cobbling together a message to be deciphered

the chameleon exits as I return to the abyss

and am again, left alone, without myself


There is no solid centre.

amongst the emptiness dwells a dense gas. such heavy legs.

undermining hope and blind to answers

nobody is at the wheel


no trust in myself.

why create when time curdles pride into hate

never enough. Never Enough

the manual is missing, no clue how to build

if you hand me the instructions they’ll be gone by dawn

tossed in the shredder of a muddled mind.


they try to hide their scorn with thunderous ovation

but I see the charity behind the praise

Nobody wants you.

don’t trust them, they’re biding their time ‘til your back is turned

waiting for their chance to pummel you with silence.

You will be abandoned.


The Quest to Befriend a Psyche Divided

Scary Is Good Actually

balancing on the social tightrope jolts awake weary bones

but the cold comfort of silence welcomes. I am wrapped around myself; at home

fuck that. the grave is certain, life should be anything else

beneath the tightrope lies a net, for I am not alone


Finding Inspiration While Drowning

Alone. what I want is out of reach, I cannot fold time you see

I ask the question – what am I willing to do?

the resolute answer arrives as absolute negation: to not be.

reminded of words, words sent by a friend, words to light a spark within. I love you.


It Doesn’t Have To Be This Way

so love yourself, reject the despair and need to wallow

free your mind, create, and your body will follow

stuck in bed, a static hurricane of self-inflicted pain

give in to hope. soon you won’t feel as hollow


Sometimes Perspective Is All You Have

the power of perspective, the constant balm

feeling vulnerable and naked, it can provide calm

Everything is possible, and Nothing can be realised. the tornado starts spinning

this invitation to despair. it finds an entrance. But I am not listening.

Everything Sunny all the Time Always. Good times. Beach party.


It’s Never Too Late To Start

Yes it’s cold. Yes it’s 4am. Get Up and Go Pee.

don’t rob the future, for the only way is through

act. Act. ACT. Accept, commit, fail and do it all again

don’t deny yourself, silly billy. embrace the discomfort. be kind to you


The answers aren’t on this page, or any other.