Tag: poem
Rave The Whale – 13th January 1993
Past caring, passed caring
Eyes popping, flashing lights
Ecstasy takes you away
Passing on future nights
Save the world, someone
Before there’s nothing left to save
Stop the music, please
Educate the rave
8th Sep 2024 – As the alternative to the alternative, punks turned into ravers and the passionate resistance to the ills of society was forgotten for the bliss of entertainment. I hated it.
Butterfly From Caterpillar – 7th January 1993
Your ambition is to own a house
Mine is to walk on my hands
Your ambition is to own a car
While I’m still practising handstands
Your ambition is for home appliances
Mine is to say hello to everyone
Your ambition is a pension fund
Mine is to fly right ’round the sun
Your ambition is….
7th Sep 2024 – Highlighting differences between my friend’s and my thinking at this time. My eyes were still wide with joy for the world and I sooner or later found my way to having a house, car, appliances and a pension anyway. I never actually made it to be able to walk on my hands though. But that wasn’t the point, really.

Lovely Noise – 4th January 1993
From where did that noise emanate
I want to hear the scratch and scrape
Smashing, hissing, piercing screech
Screaming out to breach the peace
That lovely lovely noisy sound
A brand new love I’ve found
7th Sep 2024 – I had become immersed in noise recordings after checking out Boredoms and Ruins and delving deeper into the Japanese Noise scene. This led me to some interesting places and also my very own limited edition release noise LP and the introduction of the name tenzenmen.
Maple Syrup – 29th December 1992
Tried it on a recommendation
Waited in anticipation
Hands trembling in trepidation
Waiting for the taste sensation
A maple syrup investigation
7th Sep 2024 – It seems a little odd to me that I would have been 25 years old before trying maple syrup but those were different and simpler times.
Sickie – 19th December 1992
Out on the piss, late-night disco dancing
Mixing drinks with handstand performances
Making love and falling into dreams
We’ll just see what the morning brings
4th Sep 2024 – A true story, no doubt.
Yell – 10th December 1992
She gave a mighty bellow
But he wasn’t so yellow
He roared right on back
Escalated each other’s attack
Louder and louder they yelled
So much hot air expelled
Temperature and tension rising
Without them both realising
They could sit and quietly discuss
Without all their noisy fuss
Share their inner feelings
Without ear drums bleeding
Perfect – 6th December 1992
This paper is a perfect size
For this perfect poem
4th Sep 2024 – This marks a return to poetry writing after a period where I became sporadic in output. I got a new notepad – and it was perfect.
Poems on this day – 20th November 1991
Nothing Short
If I was incredibly beautiful
I would be a lure for all my friends
If I was incredibly beautiful
I’d be sure I’d wet my ends
If I was incredibly beautiful
I wouldn’t have to say anything to anyone
If I was nothing short of beautiful
I’d be short of nothing at all
Lost Control
Something came over me
I had to get away
I just can’t explain
How I lost control again
So I must apologise
For bringing all this sorrow
‘Cos somehow I know
I’ll lose control again tomorrow
I Fart
Goddamn I can’t stop farting
Every time I bend over
And my cheeks pull apart
I fart
I’m Not Him
I’m not him
Please don’t dream I am
If the image scares you
Remember who I am
I won’t hurt you
In any shape or form
Remember who I am
I am Shaun
Poems on this day – 18th November 1991
Marie
What is it that has possessed me to chase you?
It took all my courage to come ’round and face you
Something so important made me approach with care
And now that I need you, you didn’t want to be there
Your choice may be wise and you’ll feel no pain
I guess I found it hard to explain
That my feelings ran much deeper than you’d thought
And it was happiness with you that I sought
Different Stance
It’s the same old story
I guess I’ll never learn
Time for a different stance
Time for my turn
But will I recognize the looks
If I was given half a chance
Reckon I’ll spend my days just searching
for that different stance
Back to the Book
Back to you my faithful friend
Something I can turn to near the end
To reflect on all those things I’ve done
To remember them one by one
Some things were happy and others maybe not
But you should be content with what you’ve got
Back to the book to write this script
During another occasion when I tripped
Alec
What in God’s name is the matter with you?
Nothing’s gone right, even from the start
Try to drag yourself up from the dead pool
But you go to bed with murder in your heart
