She hides her pretty eyes Beneath a mask of mascara And indifference Her face is a brood Of sullen glances Stolen from silent screen actresses Dead long before she Was even conceived She says she's not sad Just concerned For a world that is going to shit A world where achievement means nothing And celebrity is everything She says she has no one To look up to No positive role models except Emo rock stars Not much older than she She says no one has any idea How hard it is...

I know I'm getting in real early with this but here it is: HAPPY JULY 4TH to all my American friends here at Joe User. Hope you all have a wonderful, relaxed and peaceful day and enjoy the fireworks. Peace!

I remember You, pale in the light Dust motes flying As you flung yourself at me Like I’m the last living man It was only then I realised I was dead Inside and out Before I met you I remember Standing in your doorway Barely able to breath Your arms crushing me But I didn’t want you To ever let go All the while You’re repeating Like a mantra Thank you, Thank you, Thank you When it was I Who should have been giving thanks I remember Your tear-wet face Pres...

Here are a few shots from Toni and my brief away. We went to Brisbane, the capital of Queensland. For those of you not familiar with Australian geography, Queensland, known as the Sunshine State, is the second largest state in Australia and occupies the top north eastern part of Australia. Brisbane is built on the Brisbane River, which curves around like a great brown snake. I've never been to Brisbane and I have to say, I really liked the place a lot. As you can see f...

I haven't been around JU much lately, as I explained sometime back, because I've been particularly busy in the real world. I realised today all I've posted in the last couple of months have been poems. I thought I'd redress this. So, for those interested, here is a quick update. I'm just about done packing to go away to Queensland for a week. This means going north to warmer weather (YES!) and to where my wife has been for the past few days. She left last Tuesday (a week ago) to go to...

In the back lot Behind an old grease factory A hulking metal shell of a car Is trying its hardest to return To the earth from where it once came Rust flowers on its doors Have blossomed and climbed Up its pillars and onto the roof Blooming brilliant red and orange in the sun Sills have fallen through Leaving rusted holes to be filled By the flowers of weeds Prettier than any flowers money could buy Rainbows of refracted light Resting on the faded, torn seats Cast by ...

Mindnumbingly spent Bored by too much stimuli Give me some relief

I wrote the following about 6 months ago but I've been sitting on it, adjusting it slightly, dusting off every now and then before putting it away again. I'm still not sure about it. It is very niave, but how I feel, in a lot of respects, about the birth of Christianity. I think the best I can call it my extremely limited, niave study of the hypocrisy of organised relgiions. They captured the speakers of the Word Had them flagellated Without any consideration Not discussed nor deba...

The tools for escape are many But we require only a few A beautiful day, each other’s company A pleasant repast and a bottle or two There's no need for scratching holes in walls Or tunnel-digging required We won’t have to hide in dirty laundry Or climb fences electrified and barb-wired Our sentence is to laugh and sing And hope the good weather will hold Hope the flies won’t bother us too much Hope the ice will keep our beers frosty cold For what sort of escape would it...

The evidence was damning There was nothing I could say To deny the existence Of the terrible deceit I’d hidden I tucked it in the pages Of some forgotten book on a shelf In the library of my mind I wanted to leave it all behind I wanted to get on with what I’d started But the ‘f’ fell out and revealed The lie supporting everything I’d so carefully concealed Until, like all buildings Built on weak foundations Very soon cracks appeared In the walls around our relationship...

Those whose hearts Are formed in sorrow Can’t help but look bleakly At the coming tomorrow Those whose hearts Are formed in pain Look to be hurt Again and again Those whose hearts Are formed in mirth Will never believe In their own true worth Those whose hearts Are formed from hate Will never understand love Can lift this weight Those whose hearts Are formed in ire Never let cool waters Dampen their fire But those whose hearts Are formed from peace Move through...

I have my mother’s mouth And her creative ways I have her nurturing instinct And her love of music I have my father’s legs And I have his eyes I have his way with people And his love of good humour I have my mother’s sins Her vanity and pride I have her nervous laugh And her lack of self-control I have my father’s bullhead His lack of faith in his own abilities I have his crushing shyness And his damned dodgy knees I have my granddad’s temper Though I never met him A...

In a recent post ( Link ) I suggested starting a t-shirt swapping group for anyone interested. Well, I've been looking at t-shirts and have found some good ones. I guess the next step is to get details from those who'd like one. Please email me at my gmail address: dynamaso@gmail.com and let me know the best size (and a fallback, if necessary) as well as your address details. As soon as I get these, I will be taking it as a sign you want to go ahead and make a swap. I will then send yo...

I’ve been thinking about the next Joe User Writers Club Challenge. I am going to appropriate an idea of KellyW’s to make this suggestion: how about rewriting a classic fairy tale. You could rewrite your favourite, maybe inserting yourself into the tale or rewriting to make it end differently or modernising the story to suit the sensibilities of today. You could turn a tragedy into a comedy or vice versa. Maybe Ali Baba’s 40 Thieves could be changed to be politicians or maybe any number ...

You say you want to drive I ask where you want to go You say you’re looking for a break You grip the wheel tight You say it makes you feel safe But sometimes you just got to let go You are too easily distracted And I am too easily startled To be a good navigator So we circle the roundabout Losing our exit time after time Is it our fate to be lost in traffic? You ignore the rear-view Don’t want to see the damage Left in the wake of no indication To be on the safe s...